#though... i might be going back to school so that may slow me down a bit

[ghostlynimbus]

I have a chapter of There's a Rumor that, provided the power doesn't go out again, I should be able to post later today.

[chuulyssa]

​🇭​​ 🇴 ​​🇲 ​​🇪​​ 🇼​​ 🇴 ​​🇷 ​​🇰​ .

ʟɪɢʜᴛ ʏᴀɢᴀᴍɪ !

↷ A/N ─ the long-awaited full ver of this drabble is here! will proofread this tomorrow oml it's 3am here again

★ COUNT ─ 1.3k

!! TAGS ─ light x reader, pre-kira!light, gn!reader, oral (m receiving), deep throating, slight (?) exhibitionism

★ PROLOGUE ─ giving your boyfriend head under the desk while he studies

SMUT, 18+, MDNI

The two of you were walking back home after school, neither of you speaking a word as you went on in silence. It was like a silent agreement that you would go to his house today instead of yours. After all, pissed as you were, academic stress did not help in uplifting your mood. Luckily, you knew just the way to relieve your worries while also getting your assignments done - and so did Light.

"Hello, dear," his mother greeted you warmly. "I assume he's tutoring you again? I sure hope he isn't too harsh on you."

"It's alright, Mrs Yagami," you smiled back at her, inwardly elated at the fact that some day the title you called her would belong to you.

"I don't understand, dear," she continued, "why do you need tutions from him in the first place? I mean, you do quite well as it is."

"I don't mind it," Light interrupted her before going up to his room.

You took off your shoes and shot her another kind smile before following your boyfriend. Behind you, you could hear Mrs Yagami mumble, "Kids these days."

The door shut behind you. Light immediately kept his bag in a corner and sat down on his chair. You looked at him with a bored expression.

"Already? You're not taking the 'tutoring' part seriously, now, are you?"

"Well, I have to," he said, taking out his Maths notebook and pen. "Your mother-in-law has entrusted me with this task."

You rolled your eyes.

"I don't study."

"I do," he shrugged. "And so, you must too."

"Nah," you flopped on his bed in a starfish position. "I'm going to catch some sleep."

"No, you aren't," Light said firmly and got up to hold you by your arms. He dragged you towards the table, pulling out a chair for you to sit near the desk so that you could keep up with his lessons.

"I'm not studying with you," you scoffed.

Light stared at you for some time before muttering, "Fine. You know what? Fine. Go to hell."

You chuckled and he shot you a petty glare. Opening his notebook, he started solving questions rapidly, not sparing you even a single glance and pretending as if you were as good as part of the wall.

You sat there doodling on a spare book you found. Your chin was on the table, and you were rethinking your decision to come to his house. With a sigh, you realized that you'd have been sleeping soundly in your cozy bed right now had you gone to your own house.

After a few minutes, you saw Light's pen slow down a little and an irritable look on his face.

"Y/N, look, if you can't make yourself useful, then you might as well go home. Seriously."

"What?"

"I said go home."

You blinked in confusion. Useful? Like how? You looked out of the window thinking of excuses to stay in his room. It may not have occurred to you then, but you really did want to stay in his company after all.

And then you got a brilliant idea. Of course! It'd help both you and him destress, and probably leave him flustered enough to do your homework as well. You could-

"Give you a blowjob," you repeated your suggestion to him while he looked at you with wide eyes.

"...Y/N-"

But you cut him off by pushing the chair you were sitting on away and dropping to your knees. He looked at you with a bewildered expression as you fumbled with his belt, desperate to free his obviously strained erection.

"Really, now?" you said in a mocking tone. "Already? I didn't even do anything yet!"

"Well, if you're gonna sit there looking like that, this is bound to happen."

"You could've been subtle about it though," you pushed the chair away to get a clear view and comfortable access to his cock.

"Wait, you're serious about this?"

"Um, yeah?"

"But what if someone heard us?" He protested. "My parents are down there. Heck, Sayu is down there! This is not a sound proof room, we're gonna get c- ah!"

You cut him off with a little lick to the top of his cock. With your right hand you gripped his base and lowered yourself to him.

"Say it again," you said with an amused smile on your face, lips pressed against his dick. "Let me hear your pretty voice."

He was silent for a moment. Then, he slowly reached out to dig his fingers inside your hair giving you the consent you were looking for.

"Thats a good boy," you whispered, making him shiver as your warm breath breezed his cock.

Your grip on his dick tightened ever so slightly as you got ready to suck him. His fingers were tangled in your hair while his other hand tried it's best to solve the math equations for his assignments.

You licked the tip again. Light's hips jerked upwards but you pushed him down with all your might.

"Stop teasing," he breathed, looking away as if to hide his fluster.

You rolled your eyes before finally taking him, inch by inch, inside your mouth. You felt your lips stretching to accommodate his thick dick. It was an uncomfortable experience, but the little grunts that escaped your boyfriend made it worth the pain.

As your lips hit his base, you felt your saliva drooling over his cock, and immediately lifted your head back up, just to take him entirely again.

Light groaned. You tried to smile, but your work was more important. You bobbed your head up and down his dick, occasionally tracing his balls with the tips of your fingers.

"Oh god, no, what if someone sees us," Light said between moans of pleasure. "But, baby, please don't stop now."

You lifted your head completely to look him in the eye. He whined at the lost contact, and tried to push you back.

"Did you lock the door?" You said with an annoyed huff.

"Fuck, no, let me-"

You gave his dick a few pumps to stop him.

"Too late now. I guess everyone's watching Light Yagami groan and come all over his study table."

Light widened his eyes, which was a struggle considering your soft hands manipulating his movements.

You laughed at his pathetic state before taking him in again. You bobbed your head up and down, tapping his inner thigh in a rhythm.

Under your touch, meanwhile, Light was a whimpering, moaning mess. One hand was still in your hair while the other hand completely abandoned his futile efforts of doing his assignment and now lay scratching his table.

"Oh, oh god, oh fuck, yout ake me in so well," he threw his head back with pleasure. "More, more. God, i think I'm coming already."

At this, you gave him a smug look and pushed your head down on his cock until it hit your throat. Your eyes watered, but you didn't let it ruin the moment. Light almost let out a loud cry, both his hands attempting to muffle his voice as if on cue.

You choked and gagged, while he groaned and kicked his legs in the air.

"Fuck, fuck, shit, shit, I'm coming."

Your nails dug into his thighs to form crescent moons as he emptied his cum into your throat, careful not to let any of it spill on the ground or on the chair - anywhere his mom or sister could examine and catch him red handed. After making sure to take all of it in, you finally lifted your head up, licking his entire dick in one, long stroke before licking your lips and winking at him.

Light groaned at the smirk on your face.

"You're such a bad influence. Bad influence on the perfect Light Yagami."

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

tagging: @zharickmedrano

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© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

[kairiscorner]

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ A RESPONSIBLE OLDER BROTHER...

🍰 genre: fluff ~ !

✒️ word count: 1068

💭 summary: you never thought you'd cross paths with someone who once caught your eye in high school, much less as his younger brother's elementary school teacher.

🍥 author's note: ngl i feel like something like this alr exists out there, i just don't know if someone alr made something like this, so pls lemme know 😭😭😭 and i had no idea what exactly to call this au, but basically, choso and yuuji are half brothers and choso's completely human; they have a wide age gap, but choso's very close to yuuji and is an amazing older brother to him here (he's very involved in his life and supports him so much !!) AND I'M SORRY I MADE KENJAKU YUUJI'S MOM BY DEFAULT 😭😭😭 ik he's also technically choso's dad, but i had to fit the half siblings thing in somewhere TT

"excuse me," spoke a raspy voice from behind you. turning around, you see a tall man with dark, chin length hair and smoky eyeshadow looking at you; he sort of towering over you, coming off as slightly intimidating. "ah, yes?" you asked in a soft voice, forcing a smile. "um... i'm here to pick up yuuji itado—" "big brother!" the little boy's high pitched voice called out for him from within the classroom.

like a little tornado, yuuji slipped out of the classroom and embraced his older brother by the legs, yapping to him a mile a minute about how fun making the origami animals and finger painting were in class today. the man chuckled and pat his younger brother by the head, taking him into his arms and carrying him. "that's great, yuuji, but slow down..." he advised his younger brother, giving him a piggy back ride.

you couldn't help but smile at the brotherly affection yuuji showed for his older brother. "so you're the one yuuji keeps bragging about in class..." you say in a sweet voice, admiring how patient he is with yuuji. the man's eyes go a little wide, and across his face, a reddish blush appears on his cheeks. "well, um... i didn't realize my little brother spoke so highly of me..." "he does, all the time!" you explained, making the man blush a little more as the toddler yuuji played with his older brother's hair.

"say, sir, um, might i know your name? just in case, y'know, security might ask who picked yuuji up next time?" "um, kamo, choso kamo," he introduced himself in a low voice, with you raising your eyebrows at the familiar name. "k-kamo?" you repeated, as if the way the name rolled from your tongue felt strange. he nodded, already brewing up the explanation in his mind that he never failed to explain time and time again others asked how they had different surnames.

"y'see, yuuji's my half brother," he uttered as the toddler soon felt sleepy and was about to sleep on his brother's shoulders. "we have different fathers, but that doesn't mean he's a stranger to me," choso affirmed, letting yuuji rest on his shoulders. you nodded, feeling a little sympathetic about their family situation, but also feeling as though choso had been somebody you once knew back then, some time in your high school years. "i see... well, i'm glad to know you're both very close," you said with a smile, chuckling under your breath at how absolutely adorable yuuji looked when sleeping on his otherwise stoic looking older brother.

"but i have to ask..." you begin as you look over choso's face once more, searching for some familiarity you may have within his features. choso raised an eyebrow as your voice drifted off as you scoured through your memory where you may have heard the name 'choso kamo' before. you snapped your fingers and widened your eyes when you finally realized just who this man might be. "you were my classmate all throughout my first year in high school!" you exclaimed, grinning.

choso looked at you dumbfounded, he didn't realize you were his old classmate until you pointed it out. "you... were?" he asked you, unsure if the person he was remembering from his hazy memories of high school was the very person he was talking to right now, his younger brother's elementary school teacher. you nodded, smiling wider. "yeah! sorry, i just... i didn't realize it was you! you got taller, your hair's longer, and... i like your makeup," you muttered, giggling a little under your breath. it felt like just yesterday that you were sitting next to one of the most cold and aloof people you had ever laid eyes on in the small world you were in that was high school.

you could remember the goth aesthetic choso had, the chunky boots he'd sneak wearing and get in trouble for, the earphones that were always stuffed in his ears and the occasional lip rings he'd wear when no teacher or discipline officer was in the vicinity; he was oddly cool to you back then. maybe it was just your lack of adventure and rebelliousness in your teenage years, but choso always stood out to you as the kind of person you aspired to be; not goth or a rebel or anything like that, more like a person who lived out their freedom and individuality, throwing caution to the wind and living your life how you wanted to, that was the kind of person choso seemed to you, and you had always yearned to become that kind of person, even now, do you wish you were that free with your life and decisions.

choso's cheeks flushed with red once more, he nodded and murmured his thanks at your compliment. he cleared his throat and tried to look you in the eye, unsure if he should refer to you by the name you preferred to be called in high school, or keep the formalities and call you by the name yuuji called you with the honorifics and all. "i... i'm glad i met you again," he muttered, his face getting redder and redder by the minute.

you nodded and grinned wider. "same here. well, see you and yuuji around, choso; i'll be looking forward to seeing you more often now," you said as you headed back to the classroom to check on the other children, with choso nodding, gazing at you from under his eyelashes. "um, wait..." choso called out to you. "yes?" you asked him, turning around to face him. choso could feel his throat go dry as he struggled to find the words to express what he wanted to ask you right then and there. "c-could i... get your number? f-for emergency purposes, of course..." "...sure thing," you obliged, relieving choso, but simultaneously making his heart pound with anticipation as you wrote your number down and handed it to him.

"how responsible of you, really, i'm really glad yuuji has you as his older brother..." you exclaimed, with the corners of choso's lips curving into a soft, delicate smile. "makes me admire you even more, y'know," you added, making choso's entire face erupt into a blush, making your own face heat up as you smiled and giggled under your breath.

guess some things never change no matter how much time passes...

[ashdreams2023]

Hiii hope you're having a great day<33

I was wondering if you could write a Draco Malfoy x reader fic with him being jealous and it has some angst but ends in fluff. Byee<3

Sure sweetie!

Draco Malfoy x fem reader

Selfish

You never knew what to label what you and Draco had, whenever people asked what you were to each other you couldn’t quite say you were a couple but you didn’t get physical or step over what you may consider normal physical touch for friends but he also flirted with you in public, held your hand when going out in a weekend.

But he always made that one expression when people assumed you were his girlfriend, a look of irritation and almost embarrassment.

You acted like it didn’t bother you, it wasn’t like you were really his girlfriend…but you also weren’t against the idea…

It was around the fourth year, the year the ball was held, everyone was looking for dates and Draco had already asked Daphne and she said yes, you couldn’t be mad or displeased though, he had already told you he would ask you if only he options rejected him or had dates already.

It was basically a slap in the face that you weren’t even considered a real options, you were just plain old you.

Well…screw him…you actually have been asked to the ball and you said yes!

George Weasley…yes a Weasley, you expected him to make fun of you and say you’re out of your mind…at least George didn’t make you cry…

"Him? You could do so much better I’m honestly disappointed"

"Well excuse me for not being as gorgeous as Daphne to be asked by someone better!"

He looked startled at the outburst and frowned "I didn’t say you were ugly…Merlin what’s gotten into you? Did that dumb lion drug you or something?"

Draco was an idiot and you were a fool to think he would care "you’re the fucking worst Draco Malfoy!" You ran out of that room refusing to let him see you cry.

You dogged Draco like the pledge for days up until the ball night, you got ready alone, not feeling you can go and celebrate like any team thee girl in the darn school.

The dress you wore was your older sister’s dress, it was supposed to be saved for a special occasion…you wanted to feel special like every other girl…

Blue was his favorite color, you dress was blue, sparkling and cut in a really nice flattering way, you should’ve felt amazing, and you did, you felt great when gorege called pretty and when you walked in and some of your classmates stared in awe at you.

Then you saw him, he glanced up at your direction, his eyes widening but he never spoke and instead took his date and left with his date to dance.

You felt heavy in the chest but chose to hide your discomfort and dance the night away or at least avoid him.

You realized two things that night, your date might have made you laugh but you couldn’t sit in silence and enjoy the dancing itself…something Draco was doing.

When the slow dancing began you couldn’t stand it anymore, he wouldn’t stop talking and you felt so irritated which resulted in you sitting down and him deciding it wasn’t worth the fight and went to goof off with his friends.

"I told you so" Draco’s voice rang in your ear as he walked towards you, his date nowhere to be seen.

You didn’t feel like replying to him and kept watching the other couples dance. Draco seemed offended by you ignoring and pulled a chair and sat directly in front of you.

"I told you this was a ridiculous idea, now look at you, pouting in sparkling dress that you won’t ever again, over a guy that didn’t have the decency to walk you back to your dorm-"

"At least I was an option" You snapped standing up and storming out the bloody ball room, how could he be so mean to you?!

You ran until you reached one of the trees near the forest, stupid Draco, stupid Weasley and stupid feelings.

"You’re the most unbelievable girl in the world! What has gotten into you!" He bloody followed.

You turned around with tears running down your face, you felt so ugly, so pathetic and so… vulnerable "me?! I’m unbelievable?! You…you damn idiot! My night is ruined and nobody here seems to care! You keep telling me I told you so and my date isn’t as charming as I hoped him to be…I’m a joke! I’m as pathetic as granger on the stupid stairs"

Draco clenched his fists "Yes you do look pathetic and yes Weasley was the furthest from Prince Charming and…and I should have asked you"

Your lip trembled as tears kept going down your soft cheeks "But you didn’t…I wasn’t even an option…I hate you so much"

"…you don’t mean that…look I…" Draco’s cheeks flushed red "You could’ve had anyone, it would’ve been a waste to invite you!" He stepped closer.

"A waste? I waited for you until the last minute then you went asked Daphne! Why couldn’t you just ask me first?!" You cried pushing him back.

"Because I was angry! Ok! I was jealous! I thought if I gave you the fails idea that I’ll ask you no one would dare come and take you! I’m selfish ok! I didn’t want you to go with anyone and I was gonna break up with Daphne the night before the ball then that idiot Weasley asked you!"

You felt breathless, within seconds your emotions shifted from to frustration to confusion and now…disbelief.

"I need to leave I-" you took a step back and almost tripped on your back but he caught you by your waist.

"Don’t hate, I can’t stay sane if you hate me…I know you can’t stand the sight of me now but please, I’m begging you" his ice blue eyes softened, his breath hit your flushed face and all you could think about is how close he was holding you.

"I…you hurt me but…I could never truly hate you" you blinked a few tears away and rested your head on his shoulder.

"I’m thankful…care for a dance? Daphne has two left feet and I could appreciate someone who can match my pace"

You chuckled breathlessly and nodded "sure…you still owe me though" Draco nods, rests his hands on your waist and moves from side to side, with the faint music coming from inside the castle you two dance under the moonlight, it might’ve not been a perfect night from the start but it sure ended in a memorable grace.

[chelseeebe]

and i’d follow (wherever you may go)

uhhh apocalypse au anyone? i literally have the second part to this basically ready to go and wanted to post this as a little feeler.. if i’m honest i’ll probably post the other part n e ways lmfao

weird fishes/ arpeggi - radiohead (read the lyrics babes)

₊ ⊹

steve had stumbled across your makeshift camp while out checking the traps, and he was honestly just going to leave it be and disappear back to the school but you’d caught him with his pants down.

‘what’re you doing?’ your voice startling him from somewhere behind, by the time he turns to see who’s speaking, your gun is drawn, pointed right between his eyes.

his breathing stills, one hand on his pocket, trying, and failing, to indiscreetly grab his own gun without you noticing.

‘don’t,’ you bite, moving your gun down toward his hand, ‘i’ll shoot you,’ face hardened, covered in muck from the overgrown forest. you’re not scared, at least not that he can see, you’ve done this before.

‘okay.. okay,’ he soothes, holding his hands in the air in surrender, ‘i was just..’ his breath shaky as he inches away from the trap, painstakingly slow, ‘i was checking the traps.. i didn’t know you were here,’ he has no doubt that you would shoot him so he doesn’t dare try and run.

‘traps?’ you question, ‘who are you with?’

he shakes his head, unsure of whether telling you would be a bad idea or if it might save his life, ‘there’s a group of us.. at the school a mile or so away,’ his lips suddenly incredibly dry, ‘if you lower your gun i can take you.. we have supplies,’ you don’t look like you’re in dying need of anything except a good shower, which he can definitely offer.

there’s some dried blood on your arm but he can’t see it clear enough to know whether it’s old or a fresh injury.

‘no,’ your jaw taut, finger still on the trigger as steve attempts to bargain for his life, ‘i want your gun.’

his mouth falls open, hopper had just trusted him enough to go out on his own with one, he wasn’t keen on the idea of letting you just take it and then gun him down. but really, what other choice did he have?

‘how do i know you’re not gonna shoot me with it?’

‘you don’t.’

he blinks at your brutal honesty, fingers shaking as they reach for the gun, slowly pulling it out from his pocket and tossing it to your feet, ‘let me take you to the school,’ trying again at his incredibly weak offer, ‘we can help you.’

your foot pulls the pistol towards you, bending quickly to grab the gun while still aiming your own right at his head. sliding his into the back of your pants, ‘i don’t think so,’ you take a step towards him and that’s when he gets a clear look at the gash on your arm, if nancy’s skills had taught him anything, he could definitely tell that it was infected.

‘your arm.. we have medicine too,’ he nods towards the cut. it’s a different world now, he knows that, but he wishes you weren’t quite so stubborn so he could at least help.

you scoff, pointing the gun at the clearing in the woods, ‘go,’ eyes narrowed as sweat seeps from his pores, ‘don’t bother coming back.. i’m not staying,’ stepping over broken twigs toward your tent.

steve doesn’t hesitate, making off quickly. he glances back a few times, shaking his head as you stand there, gun still pointed at him even when you’re a tiny dot in beneath the trees.

hopper is understandably pissed when he makes it back, giving him a small thump to his arm when he admits you’d taken the gun and he hadn’t been able to check the traps properly.

he tries to tell them not to go back, that you’ll have moved on by now anyway but it’s useless. hopper assures him that they’re just going to make sure you’ve gone.. nothing else. though he doesn’t quite believe it.

steve knows it’s bad news when your tent is still there in the clearing, if you had any brains about you, you’d have gone as soon as he disappeared from the forest.

‘oh shit,’ nancy swears, dropping to her knees as she enters the tent.

as steve nears, he can see your lifeless body lying on the makeshift floor, both guns laid out around your head. you’re insanely lucky to have not been chewed to bits.

‘she’s breathing but her arm.. it’s infected, bad,’ nancy looks back at both him and hopper, ‘we need to get her back to the school now.’

hopper frowns, reaching over to pick up steve’s gun before pocketing yours, ‘you think we can trust her?’ he glares at steve, holding the gun just out of his reach.

‘yeah.. yeah i think so,’ he nods quickly, he wasn’t entirely sure about it but it was between that or letting you die and he sure as hell wasn’t gonna let that happen.

‘it’s on your head if anything happens,’ hopper barks, shoving the gun into steve’s chest, ‘don’t make me regret giving you this back.’

you laid in what once was the nurses office for days, nancy tending to your arm every so often, ensuring that the infection was disappearing.

steve’s not there when you wake, but he’s told that it wasn’t easy. kicking up a fight the second you come round, hopper has to restrain you to the bed before it turns into a full blown disaster.

when steve makes his way to the makeshift infirmary, you’re staring daggers at the wall, a deep frown painted on your face. ‘i knew it was you.. i should’ve just killed you when i had the chance,’ you mutter through clenched teeth, brows furrowed.

at least you looked a lot cleaner now, nancy must’ve given you a sponge bath while you slept.

‘i’m sorry.. i told them to leave it alone but you were.. well i thought you were dead,’ steve exclaims, hovering by the door just in case you decided to kill him now.

you sigh, your eyes aren’t quite so hard now, instead they brim with tears, ‘maybe that’s what i wanted? now i’m here with a buncha’ people i don’t know, waiting to see if they’ll kill me.’

‘we’re not gonna kill you,’ steve’s face scrunches up. people were certainly pretty barbaric now but christ, they hadn’t sunk that low yet. at least he hadn’t. ‘you’ll be free to go when you’re better.. nancy just wants to make sure that your arm’s healed before you leave.’

you don’t respond, turning your gaze back to the wall as the tears spill over. steve’s maybe not the best at picking up social cues but even he can tell that you don’t want him there anymore, slipping out of the door with his head hung low before he manages to piss you off any more.

it’s another few days before there’s more news on your condition, nancy’s sure that the antibiotics were working and in just a couple days you’d be on your way. hopper’s not so keen on the idea of just letting you run off, you obviously had at least half a mind to keep yourself alive this long, so maybe it wasn’t exactly wise to let you go back to wherever, with god knows who.

‘she can stay, can’t she?’ steve questions at their little meeting, joyce and hopper wanted to get everyone’s opinions on board before making the decision.

‘if she wants to,’ joyce offers, smiling softly at steve, ‘but i don’t think she does, sweetie.. that’s why we’re stuck.’

after a lot of deliberation, the majority of them agreed that it’s only fair to let you go. they’d brought you here unwillingly and they couldn’t exactly tell you that they weren’t going to let you leave.

and now here he sat, heart breaking into two as he prods the fork into the lukewarm can of beans after you’ve told him you’re going to leave after everything you’ve been through.

‘you knew that i wasn’t going to stay here forever,’ you sigh, still picking at the bag of jerky steve had brought to your room.

because even after nancy had cleared you and hopper had determined that you weren’t really a threat, you stayed. slowly, and he truly means slowly, warming up to his friends, to him. in fact, you’d proved to be quite the opposite to what he’d first thought. you were soft and kind and yeah, a little bit of an asshole but you were now in the rotation of people he cares about.

you laughed at robin’s shitty puns, listened to salvaged mixtapes with jonathan and will and had even started going on supply runs with hopper, an honour even steve hadn’t earned yet.

those words are enough to make him stop eating, staring over at you from the ratty old chair. a few months ago, he would’ve never expected to feel so shocked actually, he might’ve even celebrated. steve had been the very last person you opened up to, which was really no surprise considering the circumstances under which you’d met.

but when it had happened, one night after dinner, steve could’ve jumped with joy. it was silly, looking back, you’d nudged him and told him to come to your room later. all to present him with a new coat, something you’d found while out with hopper.

‘i’m sick of that dirty old jacket you keep wearing,’ you said, a hint of a smile on your lips. the first time steve had ever seen it directed towards him.

that had been the first of many exchanges, usually little things like soap and hairspray that you’d bring him. initially, steve had thought that your newfound relationship was purely transactional, that you were doing this for everyone. like anyone would be, he was sceptical. it was only when dustin outwardly complained about all of his new things that he realised this was something you were only doing for him.

he didn’t have much to offer back, though he’d somehow always manage to jack some extra food from the kitchen. quickly learning what you liked, ensure that nancy made sure to keep the tinned peaches stocked. they were your favourite.

‘can you at least speak to me?’ you start, breaking him from his daydream.

the candle flickers, the deep orange light casting a hue over the old classroom, ‘don’t go,’ is all he can muster up. it’s pathetic and if he sounded as sad as he did in his head, he wouldn’t be surprised if you started laughing at him.

you sigh again, ‘i have to.’

maybe steve had known deep down that you weren’t going to stay. he’d just pushed the possibility of it ever happening out of his head, preferring to live in his delusions. the thing is, steve’s not sure if you’re just friends anymore.

at some point, he’d moved his things to the adjacent classroom, begging dustin to swap with him so he could be closer. most nights, he wasn’t even sleeping in there, opting to bring his sleeping bag in here and sleep just a few feet away from you instead.

perhaps he had just been starved of attention for too long but he was sure that at least some of the looks you shared weren’t something friends did. would you really risk your life just to grab his favourite soap if you were just friends? maybe. but steve didn’t think so.

‘where’re you gonna go?’ there’s nothing out there for anyone anymore. this, the school, was the best shot at survival any of you had. he doesn’t even want to imagine the shit that awaited outside of the hawkins boundary.

‘i dunno..’ you shrug, not quite meeting his eye, ‘north i guess,’ picking at your already broken nails, a habit steve had noticed just a few weeks into your stay. it was really only when you were nervous.

‘north? it’s getting colder.. you’ll freeze.’

you shake your head, pulling your legs in closer, ‘i have to go steve, my parents are- were.. in minneapolis, i have to know if they’re okay.’

he looks down at the floor, he doesn’t understand and probably never will. his parents were out of town when everything happened and if he were to be truly honest with himself, he was relieved. he didn’t.. hate them but he was infinitely better off without them. his heart hurt a little thinking about his mom at least, but his dad.. steve didn’t possess a remorseful bone in his body for that man.

‘it’s a long way.. maybe we can find you a car,’ he looks back at you, lump growing in his throat, ‘just a few more weeks.. can’t you do that?’ he’s almost pleading now, begging you to stay right here. with him.

‘no,’ shaking your head slowly, it’s hurting you too, ‘i can’t not know if they’re still alive any longer.. i miss my mom, steve,’ your voice cracking.

‘but..’ he trails off, not sure where he was even going with his sentence, ‘let me come with you,’ it slips out of his mouth before he can even think about it properly.

truthfully, he wouldn’t mind it. sure, the people here were his family but they weren’t really. they all had their own, actual family with them. joyce had hopper and her boys, nancy had mike and even robin had helped her parents to safety. he was the outsider.

as were you, of course.

‘you don’t mean that,’ you sigh, looking pitifully at him.

‘yes i do,’ he straightens up, features hardening. why wouldn’t he mean it?

you shake your head, sighing once again, you’ve done an awful lot of that tonight and steve doesn’t like it. ‘you have people here that need you.. i can’t let you leave them behind for me.. that’s not fair.’

steve stands now, frustrated and upset all over again, ‘no, what’s not fair is you deciding what i can and can’t do,’ his words shock you enough to frown at him, ‘i want to go with you. they don’t need me.. they have each other, but who do you have?’

your mouth opens and subsequently shuts again. averting your gaze as he steps closer. he knows, or at least he thinks he knows what you want to say.

he continues on, ‘you don’t have to do this alone, i can’t-,’ swallowing the words before he gains the courage to speak them aloud, ‘i can’t let you do this alone.’

the room falls silent, the air still as he walks over to your chair, crouching down in front of your shying face.

‘steve..’ you speak quietly, braving a look at him after what felt like an eternity, ‘if my parents are still there then.. i don’t know if i’d ever come back here.’

he searches your face, looking for something, anything to tell him to do what he wants to do. like an idiot, he goes against his better judgement and does it anyway, placing a soft hand on your cheek, keeping your chin tilted towards him.

‘i don’t care,’ he states rather flatly, ‘i want to go with you,’ eyes falling from yours to your lips, ‘if you’ll let me.’

you take your bottom lip between your teeth, biting at the chapped skin. it wasn’t an easy decision, steve can acknowledge that but if you weren’t willing to stay, he’d risk it all to follow you anyway. reflecting on the past few months had left him feeling confused, unsure of what your relationship truly meant but he thinks he knows now. he’s sure of it.

‘okay,’ you breathe and if he weren’t inches from your face, he most likely wouldn’t have even heard it. his lips become the focus of your gaze, inching forward so painstakingly slow that he almost wants to just mash your faces together.

when your lips eventually connect, it’s as if the planets had aligned, everything clicking into place in his mind. steve presses forward, almost losing his balance from his crouched position, using your knee to steady himself.

you pull back, still keeping incredibly close, lips grazing against his as you speak, ‘i don’t want to regret that..’ serving more as a warning than anything else.

but steve understands, in the realest terms, you two were still essentially strangers. he didn’t know what school you went to or how you liked your coffee, though he supposes those things don’t matter now. because he did know how you liked tinned peaches and how you like your tongue out when you’re concentrating. those things were what was important now.

‘you won’t,’ he breathes, vision blurring as he gazes into your eyes, ‘i promise.’

-

hopper peeks his head into the classroom the next morning, expecting to find the usual sight of you and steve barely awake and groggy but seperate, instead steve’s cradled into your back, arm wrapped tightly around your waist as you slept.

he’s about to wake the both of you for breakfast but decides against it, maybe in his bitter old heart you two reminded him of joyce and himself.

when you do eventually rise, it’s an hour after everyone else had eaten and started their duties. the echoes of dustin screeching about something pull steve from the best sleep he’d had in months, hell, maybe even years.

‘i’m gonna tell them today..’ you start, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, ‘you can still say no.’

‘i’m not doing that,’ steve asserts, brushing the hair from your face. he regularly saw you in this state but something about today felt different, like you were finally allowing yourself to show that softer side to him.

you nod, smiling gently at him from the flat camping pillow.

as suspected, the news doesn’t go great.

hopper tries a similar tactic to steve, offering to find a car for the pair of you. dustin is downright hysterical, arms flying everywhere as he lists off a number of reasons you shouldn’t leave. but joyce.. joyce just nods, giving you both that sincere smile that made steve feel all warm inside.

and he knows that she’d probably do the same for her sons, a few years back when will had gone missing, she had turned the world upside down just to find him.

there’s a sort of longing in steve’s chest that makes him wish for someone that he’d do that for and just maybe he’d found it.

[intrepidacious]

a million summers

summary: Something shifts between you and Bucky when he comes back home from college.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3k

warnings: modern AU; childhood friends to lovers; alcohol consumption; making out; the rare occurence of me writing something that's almost exclusively fluff. please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

prompt: @allcapsbingo O1: "You've changed."

a/n: i didn't plan on posting anything today but something came over me. happy valentine's day, everyone!! this one's for @jesterstrange – remember when you sent me two songs for my sleepover and i completely ignored one of them? this is why 💛

masterlist | read on ao3

The air in the car is buzzing with late night heat and the crackling of the radio rapidly switching between stations, but you can’t seem to mind. Your heart is pounding in tune because less than two hours ago, you were kissing Bucky Barnes.

The Bucky Barnes, whose hand is currently gripping the steering wheel just a little too tightly. Valedictorian, baseball legend, first boy you ever fell in love with, prodigal third of your trio, Bucky Barnes.

Shit, if Steve found out about this, you’re not sure if he would laugh or kill both of you.

You wonder if the same thing is currently going through Bucky’s mind, because when you steal a sideways glance at him, he’s biting the inside of his lip, like he always does when he’s wrapped in thought.

It’s funny, in a way. You’ve noticed these little things about him since you were eleven years old, innocently collecting tiny facts about James Buchanan Barnes in your mind like other children kept pebbles or leaves they found on a walk. Like how his hair would stick up and begin to curl in his neck when it was about to rain. Or how he always got the first splatter of freckles in May, after months and months of them hiding away from the cold.

They’re there now, dancing across his cheekbones and down the bridge of his nose, and when the sunrise hits them at the right angle, they point out all the places you want to kiss; underneath his eye and on the tip of his nose, and, most importantly, right at the corner of his mouth, where his smile starts.

Your heart still can’t believe he’d actually let you do just that.

(He would, he would. He has.)

Your phone vibrates again and you ignore it. Reality might be on the other end, and you’re not ready for that quite yet.

There’s a slight tick in Bucky’s jaw when you peek at him again, barely noticeable to anyone who doesn’t know him quite as well as you do, and it sets your cheeks on fire. You roll the window down to feel the wind in your hair. Maybe it’ll cool your face a little.

You haven’t talked to each other at all ever since you got in the car, Bucky concentrating on the road, you counting the cars you pass. There’s not a lot of them, not at this hour, so the activity doesn’t exactly help to calm your mind, but you don’t trust your voice enough to start a conversation quite yet.

(Still, he hasn’t let go of your hand since you got in the car, either.)

It’s strange, this silence between you, not uncomfortable but unusual, because even though you’ve filled countless hours just quietly doing your own thing next to one another, it’s never been with this tension that’s making the air between you thick enough to cut.

The radio finally settles on a station, and there’s a spark of recognition at the song that manifests in Bucky squeezing your hand a little more tightly, and you finally break the silence with a quiet laugh and a warning, "Don’t."

"I didn’t say anything," Bucky says with a smile in his voice.

"Your thoughts are very loud."

"My thoughts are none of your business." He lifts your hand to his lips and presses a small kiss to your knuckles. Your breath hitches. "Besides, you were very cute."

"Slow down," you say, "I want to throw myself out of the car."

Bucky has the audacity to laugh. "Come on. Everyone had a phase in middle school."

"Everyone who knew me in middle school needs to die," you groan.

"Is that a threat, Y/L/N?"

You take in his cocky grin, tapping a finger against your chin in fake contemplation. "Maybe."

"Oh yeah?" he says, and you swear his smile grows even more crooked as you echo his words back at him.

(You want to trace it with your fingers and then taste it again.)

"So this is what we’ve come to," he says, his face exaggeratedly appalled as he shakes his head. "You’ve changed."

"I’m afraid there can’t be any exceptions," you say, squeezing his hand. "Especially not if this 'short drive over' takes much longer," you say, turning to the window again. The clouds look heavy with the reminder of rain.

Bucky rubs soft circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, and the gentleness of the action makes you press your lips together to hide the giddyness threatening to spill over. "Almost there," he says, and continues driving.

A little faster than before, maybe.

***

You’d seen this look in Bucky’s eyes before, but it’d never been directed at you. Pupils blown wide, hair sticking to his forehead, gaze unwavering and so intense you felt like you were being stripped naked in the middle of the crowd.

(And during his own homecoming party, no less.)

You forced your gaze away, trying to focus on whatever story Wanda was telling intently, but it was impossible to do anything other than nodding and humming and taking another sip of your drink whenever there was a breath for you to do so.

When you dared another glimpse in his direction, Bucky was still watching you, even though he was doing a much better job at pretending to listen, one of Steve’s arms still slung around his shoulders, his lips widening into a smile at the same time the rest of the group started to laugh while you were just out of sync with everyone else.

Not that you were staring at his lips.

It’d been so long since you’d last seen him in person. He was supposed to go off to college with Steve, but instead ended up going to an entirely different part of the country, and despite the fact that the three of you once shared every spare minute, there was only so many lagging phone calls at odd hours a friendship like the one you used to have with Bucky could take.

It broke your heart, of course, but maybe it was for the better. After all, your feelings for him had been drifting towards something different to friendship for a while at that point, something softer and more precious, something hidden away in stolen glances and late night journal entries.

Him literally being out of reach had made it easier, in a way, even though you’d never quite managed to move on from the color of his eyes.

(How could you have?)

Now, seeing him right in front of you again, they seemed so much brighter than they did in your memories; like someone had broken off two pieces of a clear summer sky and put them in the center of his face. It was honestly unfair.

You managed to steal away to the upstairs bathroom for a few minutes, not bothering to turn the light on, splashing your face with cold water to try and get a grip on. You weren’t quite drunk, but tipsy enough to recognize the light haze in your eyes as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, angling yourself in the thin strip of moonlight falling in through the window, trying to see if there was anything different about you.

Anything that Bucky might have picked up on tonight, of all nights.

There was a knock at the door, so you quickly fixed your hair with a small sigh and mentally prepared to continue the night with a smile, determined to enjoy yourself, weird and totally not heart palpitation inducing looks from former best friends be damned.

As soon as you swung the door open, though, your confidence was immediately shattered when you almost barreled into someone standing right on the other side, leaning against the frame, hands in his pockets, smile blinding.

Like he’d been waiting for you.

"Y/L/N."

(Your name still sounded like honey on his tongue.)

"Barnes." You raised your eyebrows when he didn’t move to let you pass. "Can I help you with something?"

"Maybe," he said, and then he pulled you back into the room with him, locking the door behind the two of you.

You leaned against it, arms crossed in front of your chest, swallowing heavily. Bucky hovered very close by for a moment before he retreated, pushing both hands through his hair and then hiding them in the pockets of his leather jacket.

"Right," you said, your head spinning slightly. "This isn’t ominous at all."

Bucky chuckled quietly, his eyes searching for something. "You look great," he finally said.

With a snort, you tilted your head and looked at his feet, not really believing his compliment. Your fingers were itching to unlock the door and just slip back into the party on the other side, but at the same time, you found you couldn’t move.

(You’d never been able to move away from him.)

"Look at that," you said, nudging your shoe against his. "You haven’t changed."

"Not really."

There was a strange edge to the smile in his voice, like he was trying to swallow something down. Maybe it was more clear on his face, but you couldn’t look up at him.

It was strange, the small details you remembered from years ago. Even when you and Bucky had begun to drift apart (because bottling up your feelings all the time could only ever have gone well for a short while), you would still spend most lunch breaks with him and Steve. How many times had you joined them on the tiny, dried up shrivel of lawn next to the library, being silly together and trying to stretch those thirty minutes into infinity, your sneakers always, always untied.

Steve had sprained his ankle in college when he tripped over his own feet, and so he’d started to tie them like the proper adult he pretended to be, and because the two of them had a habit of always copying the other, you’d just assumed that Bucky would have eventually grown out of the whole thing as well.

(Unlike you.)

Seemed like some things had stayed the same, after all.

And as if that stupid little observation had returned both of you back to the days that were, talking was suddenly so easy. You drifted closer to each other and apart again, like you were moving to a song much slower than the one still audible through the bathroom walls.

Later, you wouldn’t even be able to recall what you’d said. Some teasing remark, probably, a snarky comment like the ones you used to hide your feelings behind when you were fifteen and he was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen.

Whatever it was you’d said, Bucky chuckled again. As if he thought you funny. "I can’t believe I …" He trailed off, shaking his head, dragging a hand through his hair again.

Your eyes tracked the movement. A single curl kept sticking up near the top of his head, like it always had when you both were younger. "You what?" you said, almost entranced by it.

"Nothing," he said, looking over his shoulder like he expected someone to come up to him. There was no one there, but he kept moving like he was struggling against some unseen force.

"You what?" you laughed, thoroughly intrigued now.

He shook his head, but it spilled out anyway, like some tidal wave he couldn’t keep contained. "I used to have a crush on you in high school, alright?"

A pause, a break, a screeching record halt.

"No, you didn’t."

(He didn’t.)

"Uhm, yeah I did." He sighed heavily. "Look, you were never supposed to find out."

Your heart was pounding so loudly you could feel it in your ears. "Why not?"

"Because you’re …. You were my best friend. That was more important." The past tense really shouldn’t have broken your heart the way it did, because you’d known. Of course you’d known.

"And what about now?" you said, your hands clutched tightly around yourself." We’re not best friends anymore, are we? So … what are we now?"

He stared at you very intently, and his voice broke a little when he said, "I’m not sure what you want me to be."

There was a pause, and you realized Bucky’s face had turned even redder. You could barely look away from his eyes, though. It was almost impossible to make out their color in the semi-darkness of the bathroom, but there was a softness to them that made your skin prickle with goosebumps.

"Are you drunk or something?" you asked, feeling very, very sober yourself.

"What?" he said, almost offended by your suggestion. "Of course not."

"Good."

You stared at him for a moment longer, and then you kissed him.

You’d imagined kissing Bucky Barnes so many times before, but the real thing was so much better than even your wildest dreams could have predicted. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world and still didn’t want to waste a single second. Your hands circled around his waist to press him ever closer to you, and he made a noise at the back of his throat that made your brain short-circuit.

His hands trailed across your shoulder blades, gently pulling you with him as he took a step backwards and his back hit the wall with a low thud, his mouth never once leaving yours. He tasted like coffee and salt and something that was so distinctly him it took your breath away.

When you finally came up gasping for air, Bucky whined in disapproval, peppering smaller kisses along your cheeks, your jawbone, your neck. You grabbed his shoulder for support as your knees threatened to buckle, the fingers of your other hand grabbing a fistful of his hair.

"Shit, Y/N," he mumbled against your pulse, and the low timbre of his voice was enough to make your eyes flutter shut again. "You’ve got no idea how long …"

He didn’t finish talking, his lips finding yours again with a hum that made your grip on him tighten involuntarily, his hands large and solid around your middle. There was no telling how much time you lost to that kiss. Hours, maybe, an eternity of both of you trying to get as close to each other as possible.

At one point, Bucky tapped your thigh, as if he was trying to get you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist, and you were about to, honestly, but just then you were interrupted by a sudden and incessant knock at the door.

"Whoever’s in there, can you hurry up? There’s a line out here!"

You broke apart with an embarrassed snort. "Just a minute!" you called, somehow managing not to sound quite as short-winded as you felt. You steadied yourself against Bucky’s chest, feeling his heartbeat drum a mad rhythm underneath the thin fabric of his shirt. "I do not wanna go out there," you mumbled.

"Neither do I," he said, and his voice sounded so low and so wrecked you had to kiss him again. Just a small peck on the lips, this time, but you still came up light-headed. "Wanna get out of here?"

(More than anything.)

"I can’t," you sighed apologetically. "Nat’s not even here yet and I told her I’d help with the cake."

"I don’t give a shit about the cake."

You giggled. "I promised, though"

Bucky groaned, pressing his forehead against yours. The person on the other side of the door started knocking again. "She has an hour," he mumbled and sealed it with a quick kiss before you could say anything else. "Tops."

You left that bathroom with your head held high and an incredulous smile on your face. Outside, a clash of thunder shook the window panes.

***

It crosses your mind, then, when the car slows and the gas gauge finally stops blinking, that your younger self would have killed to be in your shoes. Or rather, bare feet pulled up on the passenger seat, Bucky’s fingers entertwining with yours, feeling tired and wide awake at the same time as nervous excitement curls up in your chest.

How many summer night did you use to lie awake in bed, imagining a scenario just like this?

(A million, at least.)

The summer air carries the smell of the ocean, and if you looked out the windscreen, you could probably see the waves crashing against the shoreline as the sun starts to rise, a picture perfect view like something out of a fucking dream. You’re still not quite convinced you haven’t fallen asleep on Wanda’s shoulder earlier in the evening, your subconscious making all of this up out of some long buried yearning from years ago.

You don’t want to look outside, though. You don’t want to look anywhere but at the boy beside you, whose hair is still tousled from your touch and who looks at you like he’s on cloud nine and absolutely terrified at the very same time.

"Do you feel kinda nervous or is it just me?" Bucky says, and you laugh.

"Yes. What’s up with that?"

It’s like the manic, pent up energy that made your kiss in the bathroom feel like you got struck by lightning has vanished from your bodies, making room for something more quiet. More anxious. A question whispered at the back of your mind that makes your hold on his hand tighten.

What now?

(Reality stopped calling a while ago, but it’s only a matter of time.)

"I guess it’s a good sign." Anticipation makes the blue of his eyes shimmer. "Means neither of us wants to fuck this up."

You smile tentatively. "Is there something we could potentially fuck up?"

Bucky swallows, tilting his head. "I hope there is."

(You want to run away with him. You want to stay with him. You’d wait a million summers more to get here.)

"Me too."

When he leans in this time, it’s sweeter than before, slower, less a declaration and more a promise. Neither of you would have to wait anymore.

thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

[santaricotta]

They’re having another reading session!

It’s almost been a year since my first ever post, so I figured it’d be the perfect time for a redraw! The original is… um… well… I’ve definitely improved lol

(Some updates and stuff below the cut)

I’ve been having a bit of art block when it comes to Luca stuff lately (besides the FDM comic). It’s not because of a lack of interest (this fixation has been going on for over a year now and isn’t stopping anytime soon), I just don’t have any ideas on what to draw. I have been thinking of writing, though. I have an entire doc filled with random ideas (shout out to the notes app), maybe I could flesh them out? I have one in particular I’d love to write, about Luca and Giulia’s time in Genova. It’s basically what I’d want out of a Luca series; seeing how the Underdogs spend their time apart during the school year. I might start working on that, actually! We’ll see, lol.

Festa Del Mare updates may slow down? I’ve had the whole thing written since I came up with the idea (thanks notes app), but now that it’s been a bit, I want to go back and rework the story a little. Not too much, though. I mainly just need to redraw the thumbnail sketches for the rest of the pages, which is gonna take a bit of time. Trust me, though, I do not plan on stopping this project. It’s way too much fun for me!

I also just want to thank you all so much for your support, it means the world to me! Each reblog and comment I get brings the biggest smile on my face, and can make even a horrible day turn into a good one. You guys are the best ♥︎

That’s enough rambling from me, lol. Have this extra doodle as a thanks for reading it all. Ciao! ★彡

[cottonlemonade]

Hello again it's me. I may I please have a menu B with strawberry milk and purin and I'll sit next to Ren Oomimi please

The Wrath Of Oomimi Ren

word count: 818 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: Oomimi x chubby!Reader (feat. Atsumu)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: fluffy jealous upperclassman Oomimi, as manager

It was never a good sign to see the twins huddled together with Suna in an obviously plotting manner. Whispers and giggles, a short screech of approval here or there - it was all rather disconcerting.

Oomimi frowned and went back to his conversation with the other two third years. However, he didn’t let the chaotic trio out of his sight. Kita wasn‘t here yet, being stuck in a meeting of the class presidents, so it fell upon him, Michinari and Aran to keep the younger members of the team in check until the training began (certainly a three person job). The gym door opened and their trainer along with their manager came in, the cute kohai holding a water carrier in each hand. Almost automatically he made a move to hurry over and take them off your hands but one side glance towards the menaces from year two stopped him in his tracks. He had already been too obvious about his crush on their curvy manager, having gushed about you one too many times to his classmates in the locker room. Even though, “gushed“ might have been the wrong word. He talked about you. Too often.

Thinking out loud if the team should invite you along for an after training snack run to the nearby convenience store or wondering if you‘d maybe be interested in joining them for a (not really) friendly game of Mario Kart that weekend. Or invite you to a movie with them. Or suggesting to have you join their study group. Or sit with them at lunch. Or if they should bring you a bun when they went by a bakery on their way to school.

Everyone knew about his crush, even the trainer. Except, of course, you.

To you, Oomimi was a thoughtful, albeit quiet player who was an important component to Inarizaki‘s defense along with Suna. To you, he was simply being polite and tried to include you as often as possible. And, to be honest, he was the reason why you joined the team as the manager.

Whenever you called for the team’s attention for the coach, Oomimi was the first to come running but always stopped himself a few meters before reaching you, slowing his steps and suddenly becoming very interested in retying his shoes or straightening his jersey as to not make it seem like he was too eager to get to you. He knew he had an intimidating aura and the last thing he wanted was to scare you by towering over you.

And today was no exception.

Once Kita arrived the team gathered in a half circle around you and the trainer - Oomimi stole glances at you throughout the coach’s game plan. When it was time for the warm up drills, he paused in his movements when he saw that instead of dispersing like the rest of the team, the chaotic trio stayed behind to talk to you while Coach Kurosu went outside to take a phone call.

“How about it, y/n-chan?”, he heard Atsumu say loudly, “This friday night. We can go to the arcade or see a movie.“ The setter shuddered, feeling a sudden icy chill on the back of his neck but soldiered on, “Why aren’t ya sayin’ anythin’? Don’t wanna go on a date with me?”

He was sure when he turned around he would come face to face with Kita but instead he stared at the chest of the middle blocker, slowly raising terrified eyes to look at him.

“H-hey, Oomimi-san.”, he stuttered, “I was just askin’ our manager to go out with me.”

“I know, the whole gym could hear ya.”, Oomimi replied calmly.

“O-okay then. Uhm… would ya give us a bit of space so she can answer me?”

Oomimi looked at you - your face telling a detailed story of confusion and reluctance.

“No.”, he said, glaring down at Atsumu.

“And why is that?”, Atsumu asked, hoping his knees wouldn’t give out. He hated Osamu and Suna for this. Sure, the sacrifice for their cause was chosen via rock, paper, scissors but now that The Wrath of Oomimi Ren™ was upon him, he really badly wanted to reconsider, even if that would give his friends the right to his lunch desserts for the next month.

“Well…” Oomimi hadn’t thought that far. “Because…-“

“Because I’d actually much rather go out with Oomimi-san.”, you said, cheeks as red as tomatoes, “Sorry, Tsumu. You’re … okay and all but I’m not interested.”

Osamu and Suna doubled over with laughter - the latter still holding up his phone to capture the moment for all eternity.

Atsumu would have been extremely offended if he wasn’t so relieved that the giant third year was too distracted by your confession to hurt him and grabbing his brother and friend by the sleeves dragged them off to leave you and Oomimi to blush at each other in private.

a/n: thank you so much for your request! I hope you enjoyed it ^^ 🌟

[reverieblondie]

The Dark Prince: Chapter 3, The Morning After

Paring- Dark Prince Rolan x Blessed Princess F!Tav

Warnings- 18+ MDNI, will include violence and smut, and two pinning idiots.

Summary: Tavs first night in Waldemar is not like she expected... So the next day she's not in the best of moods when it comes to her new husband. maybe they should talk about it...or not.

A/N: Its here!! I hope you are as excited as me and Sweet anon are! (huge shout out for them for helping me with the editing and helping me with parts I just could not get right! they are a life saver!) I hope you enjoy!

<- Chapter 2

Vignette 1: Retribution (Do you want a short read about the others exploring Waldermar? Well here you go!)

He never came...

Tav slumps her head within her hands and groans.

She had been agonizing over making the right first impression ever since Sivailon had agreed to the Dark Prince's proposal. She had forgone sleep and leisure, even during what would be the final days she had left to spend in her home and among familiar faces, to instead learn more about the kingdom she was to help rule. She had sat and smiled and held her tongue all evening in the face of his blatant indifference and disregard towards her and now he hadn’t even bothered showing up to consummate the marriage he had wanted!

Is this to be a sexless marriage? Was the Dark King just shy? Did he maybe want to take things slow?

She is certain they could figure out something to make this work if only he would just talk to her!

An explanation, an agreement to discuss matters at a later time, she'd even take a note under the door if it meant getting so much as an inkling on what to expect.

Three sharp knocks interrupt roiling thoughts. A part of her wonders if it is the Dark King but...

 "My Lady? May we come in?” Shadowheart's voice chimes through the door.

There is the sound of movement quickly followed by three more knocks,

—though it would be more accurate to call it bangs—on the door.

"Make yourself decent, dark usurper!" Lae'zel demanded, "I have no qualms wrenching this door from its frame!”

As Tav hurriedly wrapped one of the blankets around herself, she could hear what sounded like Wyll's voice trying to calm down his fellow knight. Rising to her feet and not sparing another thought towards how she might appear, she opened the door to be greeted by each of her friends wearing their own faces of concern.

Shadowheart attempted to school her expression as she gave her fellow selûnite a once over, “It seems you had a restless night…"

"He didn’t show." Tav blurted out curtly, her fingers burying themselves further into the blanket she clutched around her.

Her court exchanged looks of collective confusion before Shadowheart tried to tactfully voice it, “You didn't see him after we left?"

"No, I didn't see him." Tav snapped, turning on her heels and striding back into her room as she felt her frustration about to spill over, "The Dark Prick never came!”

Shadowheart immediately rushed over to her friend, equal parts surprised and concerned. Lae’zel smirked at seeing a glimpse of Tav's fierceness again before the githyanki pulled Wyll into the room with them when her fellow knight hesitated between entering or waiting outside the room. Wyll began to bring up concerns about propriety and decorum, causing a humorless laugh to rip from Tav's throat before she could stop it. Shooting him an apologetic glance, she made her way behind the changing screen as Shadowheart began gathering clothing and various other supplies to help the new Queen get ready.

"You two can wait outside if you want. Though I doubt it would make much difference to him either way." Tav called to her knights, dropping her blanket and kicking it to the side with lingering irritation before yanking off her slip, "And if he doesn't like it, then he can march his tail down here and talk to me about it himself."

There was a moment of silence before she heard the door click shut.

"That he can." came Wyll's soft spoken reply, the faint smile audible in his words as was Lae'zel's noise of agreement.

Tav couldn't help but smile lightly herself, once again grateful to have such loyal friends with her now. Just knowing that they were here with her, here for her, helped ease the storm of her emotions to a more manageable level.

It was replaced with a momentary flash of frantic embarrassment when she rushed to change her ruined underwear. The evidence of that damned haunting, irritating, delicious dream is swapped out and thrown in the hamper before Shadowheart joins her behind the changing screen. They'd had a dress made of the two kingdoms' colors for Tav's first day in Waldemar... but maybe that one would have to wait for a different time. A dress of soft blue with lilac flowers ebroed on the skirt was selected instead.

  Shadowheart helps pull the dress over Tav's head before the lady-in-waiting started to lace it up. There is a comfortable silence in the room as Tav grabs a brush, running it through her hair as she begins to get her thoughts back in order. After finish with the dress, Shadowheart teasingly swats the Queen's hands aside to take over. Eventually, they both exited from behind the changing screen as the Queen placed the royal circlet upon her brow with a determined smile. "Shall we head to breakfast?” Tav proposed before pulling a somewhat exaggerated face, "Well... Assuming we can find our way there after last night..."

Lae'zel began listing off the most efficient routes she'd found to reach the locations where a meal would likely be served while Wyll tried to give Tav a chiding look for her comment despite clearly trying to fight back his amused smile. Shadowheart bumped the two knights away from the door before opening it to allow them through. As they exit the grand room, the door across from them on the opposite side of the hall is gently creaked open.

Tav paused thinking it could be Alfira or perhaps one of the other tieflings they'd seen last night, but what she sees makes her blood run cold. A woman with firey orange hair that contrasts her gray skin, which her dark dress showed a generous amount of, slinks out of the room, a spaded tail curling gracefully behind her as she stretched her vast wings and turned her horned head to regard the small audience. The woman—no, the fiend—smirked, looking Tav up and down then her dark eyes seem to move past Tav and that smile grows wider.

"My, I didn’t expect he would put you so close to his room.” The fiend says in an almost sing-song voice, wiping the corner of her mouth with a thumb as she approaches.

"His room... ?" Tav tries to ignore the cold, sinking feeling in her chest.

"Why, the King's room, of course." the fiend answered with barely veiled condescension, "Whose else would it be? Surely his wife should know that."

It was no secret that the usurper of Waldemar had devils in his court but this... In his room?

"Quite bold of you to have such a parade leave your private chambers in the morning." the devil continued, "It could cause a rather... scandalous impression should the wrong person catch wind of it."

"Enough!” Wyll snapped, inserting himself between them, "If you have something to tell the Queen, then speak plainly and with respect."

 "At ease, loyal pup,” She smirked, briefly revealing her pointed teeth. “I’m only teasing.”

Lae'zel made a point to place herself in such a way that the fiend could see the githyanki's blade that was being partially drawn from its sheath. However, the devil didn't seem to react to this; instead letting her eyes slide back to Tav.

"I am Mizora—one of the King's personal advisors." the stranger introduced herself, "Forgive any impoliteness you perceived on my behalf. It feels as though I already know you all so well."

Mizora slowly inched closer. Tav's eyes never left the fiend, but she could still feel as Shadowheart further tensed beside her.

"Of course, everyone knows you, Tav. Then her little handmaiden Shadowheart and your novel gith knight Lae’zel." Mizora listed, the saccharine sweetness oozing from her words belied by the uncomfortably sharp anticipation in her eyes, "And lastly Wyll Ravenguard, a knight of noble blood and even more noble spirit. Quite intriguing, I must say.”

The fiend leans in closer towards him and Tav is struck by the overwhelming need to get this devil's attention away from her friend.

"Is the King in his room?” she blurts out, drawing Mizora's focus from the knight.

"Not currently." the devil hummed, "I had been hoping to have a... private meeting with him about some things."

"Oh?" Tav asked, fighting to keep her voice level and to not get caught on what this fiend might be implying—that could be dealt with later when there wasn't a devil far too close to herself and her friends.

"The King is quite the avid study, even among wizards. He likes to know things and encourages his court to do the same. He is a very busy man. No time or patience for interruptions or those who can't contribute." Mizora continued, "But listen to me prattle on. What was it that you needed from him, hm? I'm sure I could pass along the message for you."

I don't trust you to pass me in the hallway, much less to pass along a message.

Tav swallowed, praying silently to Selûne that she did not reveal her disquieted agitation in front of this devil, "I was hoping to have breakfast with him. Share our first meal together.”

Mizora made a show of trying to stifle her laughter before a more familiar voice cut in from down the hall.

"Mizora!" They all turned to see Alfira walking towards them with haste, her posture and polite smile as tight and strained as the enthusiasm in her voice, "I see you've met the new Queen!"

The male tiefling the King had hugged last night followed close behind Alfira's heels. Unlike the bard he stood beside, his anxious, searching gaze silently jumped between them all.

“Alfira, how good of you to finally arrive." Mizora barely even spared the two tieflings a glance, suddenly seeming far less interested in the conversation, "We were just discussing what the Queen plans to do this day. I felt it only appropriate that I take the opportunity to properly introduce myself and offer my assistance, seeing as you were running late."

"How thoughtful of you..." the bard replied, expression still tight as her eyes darted between Tav and the fiend.

"Of course! And I couldn’t help but get so… enthralled with the conversation. Newlyweds are so precious with their little ideas, after all. She was telling me of her hope to share a meal with the King when you joined us.” The devil hummed, a small smirk returning to her lips as she looked Alfira up and down. "But, now that you're here, I suppose I'd best leave your job to you and attend to my own. Ta-ta!"

With a coy wave of her hand, a darkness rippled across Mizora's form, quickly enveloping her before she vanished with a small burst of sparks and embers. The two tieflings didn't so much as flinch—though Alfira continued to stare silently at where the fiend had been even after the ciders disappeared. The male teifling looks between the bard and Tav.

He eventually let out a slightly nervous chuckle and gave Tav a weak but warm smile, “Devils, right?"

“It's... definitely company we're unaccustomed to." Tav admitted.

"I guess I should finally make my introduction since everyone else seems to keep beating me to it. I’m Cal," he walked forward with his hand outstretched, "Rolan's brother."

Wait, brother?

Tav resist the urge for her jaw to drop as she looks at the tiefling—his square jaw, dark dusty colored hair, and fiery orange eyes.

Cal gives a much more genuine smile and light hearted chuckle, “Judging from your expression, I’m guessing Rolan hasn't mentioned us.”

Us?

Before Tav can ask Cal for clarification, Alfria cleared her throat and bowed before Tav and her court, “I'm so sorry for being late, your Majesty. Please, forgive me.”

"There's nothing to forgive. I'm sure you were simply busy with other matters." Tav answered, though the bard didn't seem entirely reassured.

"Thank you, your Majesty." Alfira straightened, her hands clasped behind her back, “I had meant to ask if there was anything you may need. I know the majority of your belongings have yet to arrive, so I would be happy to find suitable replacements for you until then.”

Tav tilted her head, considering for a moment. The room she had been gifted was well supplied with various amenities. Even if it still didn't quite feel like her own space just yet, most of what she really needed was already there except for her personal shrine to Selûne.

“I suppose... Are there any silver vessels I could keep in my room for a time? Cups, chalices, goblets, and such." Tav eventually asked, before adding on, "And perhaps a jug of milk, if there is a way to keep it from spoiling."

Alfira blinks in confusion before hastily dipping into another bow, “Of course, your Majesty! Right away!”

With that, the bard was off with surprising speed. Soon she had disappeared around the corner in a rush of color and jingles, leaving Cal, Tav, and her court alone in the hallway.

After a moment, Tav felt a light tap on her shoulder. Looking towards it, she found Shadowheart regarding her with a slightly pinched expression.

"My Lady, we still don’t know how to reach the dining hall from here... or even if that is where we are to go."

Tav looked from her, then back down the hallway where the closest thing they'd had to a guide was now long gone, before finally looking towards Lae'zel in hopes that the knight had found some indication of where they should go. The githyanki approached Cal, her very presence seeming to command his attention.

"You, one who stares," she demanded, "You will escort us where we must go."

“Ha, right of course! It's this way.” he says a bit shyly before waving for the group to follow him, still laughing slightly to himself, "I'm just glad you didn't want to kick my tail again. It's too early for that."

Tav feels her eyes widen slightly as she looks from her new brother-in-law to Lae’zel, neither of whom seemed too thrown off by the statement. She was clearly missing something here but Tav just shook her head; the Queen still needed to worry about getting a handle on her own relationships here—especially that between her and her new husband. So long as nobody seemed distressed or perturbed, concerning herself with the relationships of others would have to wait.

Turns out that the dining hall was not as nearly confusing to get to as Tav had dreaded. The route Cal brought them down was mildly lengthy but still relatively straightforward—at least compared to the tour they'd been given last night.

Like everything else, it would take time to grow accustomed to, but their walk allowed Tav to begin learning more about Cal. Apparently he was a chancellor in his brother's court. Though Cal admitted he didn’t exactly get to help Rolan handle matters of politics or the whole kingdom, the younger tiefling was in charge of the various day-to-day operations around the castle and making sure those could be carried out smoothly.

"I basically handle the smaller scale things Rolan doesn't want to be bothered with." Cal says, fondly rolling his eyes, "I wouldn’t have it any other way, though. Even if it can keep me pretty busy."

This was proven when, right as their group arrived at the dining hall, Cal ended up being pulled away by a few servants who needed him.

With an apology and a bow he promised he would have to join them for breakfast at a different time.

"I don’t remember the last time we all had a meal together, but it's something we should definitely try now that you're here.” the tiefling smiled, "I’m sure we'll have plenty of time to chat, considering you're family now.”

Those words left Tav with her own smile. Cal had been so warm and welcoming, and when he spoke of his brother it was with such fondness. It was apparent how much he truly loves his brother. While Tav doubts any affection will ever bloom between herself and her husband, she is now slightly more hopeful for building mutual respect in their marriage. If Cal can speak of his brother in such high regard, then the Dark King certainly couldn't be all bad.

As Tav pauses before the two dark colored doors, she feels her heart thumping in her chest. Despite last night, she still wants this to go well. Taking a steadying breath, she reminds herself that this could still be the start of prosperous partnership... sneering vampire spawn and devils aside...

Just be open-minded and polite.

Shadowheart waits until Tav gives her a nod before opening the doors. The Queen keeps a smile on her face as the room is revealed to her. That smile falters when she sees that the seats lining the long dining table are all empty. Her brows furrowed as she walked in further, eyes glancing about the space.

There is food, lit chandeliers and candelabras, a few guards, and various decorations.

Yet there is no sign of her husband.

"Ah, your Majesty!” an enthusiastic voice called from the far side of the room.

Coming in through the servants' entrance, Tav sees a man with longish brown hair and a single earring in his left ear. In his hand, he holds a plate of food that he quickly places down as he approaches.

"The moon-blessed, divine soul sorcerer! Tav of Sivailon! Queen of Waldemar! A true pleasure to at last make your acquaintance." he began, reaching out and shaking Tav's hand, "You have already become a popular topic in the castle, I will have you know. Honestly can’t go anywhere without overhearing some discussion or other about you. I, for one, am happy to have you here.”

Tav listens as carefully as she can to the man and his rambling. It seems like everyone but the Dark King is friendly here.

The man's eager smile is framed by a short beard, a smile that takes on a hint of embarrassment when the human's dark eyes glance at the faces of Tav and her court to see their lost expressions, “Oh! Right, I suppose I skipped a few steps in making introductions. Apologies, I'm usually better at this. I'm Gale, magister of Waldemar and, if I dare say, a trusted member of the King's court. Us wizards like to keep close, you know.” 

Gale gives Tav a bow that she welcomes with a smile and a curtsy of her own, “It's a pleasure to meet you. I do not intend to be dismissive, but..."

"Where is the Dark King?” Shadowheart finished for her bluntly, sparing Tav from having to ask after her husband, again.

Gale looks a bit surprised at the lady-in-waiting's curt interjection, but only for a moment, “Ah, yes! King Rolan has already gotten his breakfast and begun to go about his duties. He was rather eager to resume after returning last night—wanted to be filled in on every little thing that happened while he was away—so I can hardly say it's a surprise that mindset carried over to this morning."

Tav once again feels her heart sink in disappointment.

"Ah- However, I was asked to join you, lest you be left to believe you've married into a most ill-mannered kingdom. I, for one, happen to be very grateful for this chance to make you and your court's acquaintance." Gale quickly pressed on, his words slightly rushed as he attempted to keep the air positive, "I've even asked Tara to join us, if she can spare the time. But, should she decide to grace us with her presence, I can assure you this... ah... hiccup in your day will be swiftly forgotten."

 "It's not the kingdom that is ill-mannered." Tav heard Shadowheart grumble under her breath as she pulled out a chair for her Lady.

As Tav sat, a small handful of servants wasted no time in placing various foods and dishes before the Queen—not even giving her a chance to examine the options herself before setting her plate. Tav did her best to remain unbothered at yet another choice seemingly being made for her, even one as simple as this; the servants were likely just following instructions anyway.

"So what duties is the King seeing to this morning?" Tav began, plucking an orange slice from a small artfully arranged fruit platter, "I would very much like to know if it's something I could be invited to accompany him with. Or are there other matters that I could instead attend to?"

Though Tav believes she had chosen her words with the utmost of care, Gale appears to nearly choke on his food, much to the Queen's surprise and mild alarm.

"Urm- Right. Your duties... Well, you see... um..." Gale adjusted in his chair, probably trying to get his thoughts in order and regain his composure, but Tav could recognize the expression of someone mulling over how to deliver information they worried would be poorly received. The interaction leaves Lae'zel and Shadowheart to share a questioning glance before the lady-in-waiting pours a goblet of water for the wizard upon noticing the Queen's look of concern. Gale gratefully accepted the goblet with a quick nod of thanks, downing the water before clearing his throat.

However, Gale's chance to speak was promptly cut off with the sound of an exasperated sigh from Shadowheart. “If you say that the King decided she needs more time to adjust, then you will be the first to learn I do not share my Lady's patiences.”

Gale simply stared at Shadowheart with surprise for a moment before his expression fell into a somewhat pensive smile, his eyes not stern but with a certain warmth, "If I may be honest, I personally believe it is the King who needs the time to adjust. He is... Well, to say it plainly, the man can be a bit of a control freak—finds it difficult to delegate tasks rather than trying to take care of it all himself."

He should have thought of that before proposing marriage and co-rulership...

Tav's thoughts must have shown on her face, as the wizard gave her a sympathetic yet knowing half smile, “Grace him with your patience, your Majesty. Besides, with no duties, you are free to explore to your heart's content! I heard you had... an interesting tour of the castle last night, but we have a vast library, the gardens and the palace grounds are rather beautiful to behold this time of year, and then there are the training grounds where you can watch Zevlor and Karlach train our soldiers into top shape-"

“You will tell us more about these training grounds, wizard." Lae'zel declared, the mention of them having instantly caught the githyanki's attention and interest.

"You will find it on the far right of the castle grounds a little ways off from the gardens. Needless to say, you're all welcomed to use and practice there as you like." Gale answered, appearing mostly unfazed by Lae'zel's interjections and instead seeming pleased with having caught at least one person's interest, "If you're ever having trouble finding suitable sparring partners, then I could always see about conjuring up a few opponents. Alternatively, if I happen to be unavailable, you could ask Leon for the same—assuming you're able to find where the sorcerer is lurking about.”

A fellow sorcerer?!

Tav tried to contain her excitement at the news, as she had rarely gotten the chance to meet other sorcerers in the past. Though she had always wanted to become better practiced with her magic, she could only teach herself so much—even with all the resources at her disposal in Sivailon. Perhaps she could learn from Leon? Or at the very least she might meet someone else who shares some of her experiences.

Trying not to appear overeager, Tav softly cleared her throat, “I look forward to meeting Leon; I feel we would have much to discuss.”

"Well, I'd be more than happy to give you two a proper introduction. At this time of day, he's probably tucked himself away in our shared study, in his quarters, or somewhere among the shelves of the castle's library. I'll warn that we might have a hard time finding him in that last one, as it is quite vast." Gale smiled, "Though there is also a chance we'll cross paths with Rolan while there. The King is quite the avid reader. Always so eager to learn.”

 Unless it's about his wife.

The bitter thought rose unbidden and unwelcome in Tav's mind as she fought to keep her expression and voice from betraying her, "I think we walked past the library a few times last night while Alfira was giving us our tour, though we never actually entered it.”

Gale let out another small chuckle, though the Queen couldn't tell if it was forced, nervous, or genuine, "While I admit I'm somewhat guilty of losing track of time there myself, that place might as well be an extension to Rolan's study."

Tav lifted a cup to her mouth, stalling and hoping to hide her disquiet from the wizard who was clearly trying to be nothing but kind and didn't deserve to deal with her frustration. It was almost a relief when a refined voice cut through the air, pulling away everyone’s attention.

"His Majesty's study?" the new voice asked, somewhat incredulously, "More like a second bedroom, though you're hardly much better, Mr. Dekarios, with how often I've caught you asleep there.”

While Tav and her court looked around for the owner of this new voice, Gale's expression lit up as he looked down at something just behind his chair.

"Tara! You made it!"

Everyone turned back in time to see a green-eyed calico cat leaping upon the backrest of Gale's chair, a pair of feathered wings lightly fluttering to steady the landing before folding neatly against the creature's back.

 If she hadn't known her fellow selûnite so well, Tav would have been startled when Shadowheart excitedly grasped her hand at the sight.

"A tressym..." the cleric eagerly began to explain, "Brilliant creatures with magical abilities to match.”

"Brilliant? Oh, my!" the tressym—Tara—perked up, that refined voice evidently coming from her and now sounding pleasantly surprised, "How delightful to meet someone else with such fine taste. Mr. Dekarios, she has such an astute sense for character. You know what I say about a woman who can sense character!"

At that Gale's eyes widened slightly, flicking from the tressym to Shadowheart before he somewhat ducked his head, “Yes, Tara, you've mentioned it… Multiple times, might I add."

“Well, if you actually listened more often, then I would have no need to remind you so often.”

"Tara, must we do this now?" Gale lightly chuckled, dragging a hand down his face, which now seemed to be a tad flushed, "Surely it can wait until after our new friends here-"

"Oh, don't delay on our behalf." Shadowheart smirked, voice tinted with mirth and the smallest amount of mischief, "Besides, it sounds like you wouldn’t have to do this now if you just listened to her, Gale.”

Tav felt bad for wanting to laugh at the poor wizard's predicament. It seemed her lady-in-waiting was already finding a new furry friend in Tara, but the Queen still didn't miss the way Shadowheart's hand twitched as the cleric restrained herself from reaching out to pet the tressym from across the table.

"Tara," Gale tried again, awkwardly gesturing toward Tav, "We are in front of the Queen.”

Fur fluffing out, Tara stretched to see around the wizard's head and her eyes widened as they found Tav. Unsure what else to do, the Queen offered her a small wave.

"You let me prattle on like this in front of the Queen?!" Tara hissed, taking flight in a flurry of motion as she bapped a paw against the side of Gale's head, "Had you not thought to give us a proper introduction?! Have you no manners, Mr. Dekarios?!"

The wizard only laughed and, by Selûne's light, Tav was fighting hard to hide her own amusement at the scene playing out before her. While poor Tara clearly seemed mortified, seeing the banter was honestly a breath of fresh air compared to the rehearsed lines Tav had been learning to expect thus far and the Queen couldn't help but steal a glance at her friends to gauge if they were as amused as herself.

Lae’zel stared at the tressym in narrow-eyed confusion. It reminded Tav of when the githyanki had met Scratch. Shadowheart was probably the only one of them to have already known what a tressym is, but even she seemed to have been surprised that Tara could speak; Tav could only guess how surprised Lae'zel must be to see a cat with wings. The Queen's face fell when she turned her attention to Wyll. His expression seemed oddly grim and Tav realized how quiet her friend had been this whole meal.

"It’s quite alright." Tav spoke up, making a note to check in on her knight when they had a moment alone, "Give it enough time and I'm sure you will eventually overhear my court and I sharing a bit of verbal jousting ourselves."

Tara eventually settled once again and the rest of the meal passed relatively peacefully. By the end of it, Lae'zel had left to continue her exploration of the palace and Tara had ended up on Shadowheart's lap, much to the cleric's delight.

As a small handful of servants began clear the table, Tav excused herself, trying to not be too hasty when she explained her departure with wanting to clear a space in her quarters for keeping the silver and milk Alfira was gathering. Ever observant, Shadowheart shot her fellow selûnite a glance that silently asked several questions before nodding in understanding when the Queen inquired if her friend would mind staying back with Gale and Tara to see if they knew of any magic that could help prevent the milk from spoiling. Thankfully, both wizard and tressym seemed eager to be of assistance, not even stumbling at what must have sounded like an odd request when divorce from the context, and the two were already rattling off potential solutions as Tav and Wyll exited the dining hall.

While Tav had no reason to distrust the pair, she still wanted at least some degree of privacy for the conversation she and her knight were about to have. Tav maintained a slow pace as she tried to remember the way back to her parlor with Wyll at her side.

"So, what's on your mind?" She eventually murmured once the voices from the dining hall had faded.

"Ah... Well... Shadowheart seemed rather pleased about Tara." Wyll began, his eyes not being able to hold Tav's gaze for long, "We all know she already misses Scratch. Perhaps we could write to Jaheira about getting the furry fellow here."

“Wyll, we both know that is not what I'm asking." Tav raised her hand before her friend could try to protest, "I've known you since we were children, Wyll. We're practically siblings. After all these years, after growing up together, I can tell when something is weighing on you."

The pair fell silent for a moment, the only sounds between them being that of their footsteps on the stone floors faintly echoing through the hallways.

"It was worth a shot..." Her knight sighed, a weak smile lifting the corner of his lips before his expression grew grim again, “I- That fiend from before… I didn’t like how she spoke to you, to us. For the King to work with one..."

Tav nodded as Wyll fell silent again, “I was never thrilled about the idea of the vampire spawn and fiends in his court, but I admit that actually seeing them in person is... I suppose that just makes it all feel more real. We can't even pretend that they're just rumors now."

Wyll let out a hum of agreement. They lapsed into silence again as Tav steadied herself for what she was about to say next.

"If staying here is no longer something you are comfortable with-"

"No." her friend's answer was firm and unwavering, "I said I'd be here for you and I meant it. We all did."

She let out a sigh of relief and flashed Wyll a grateful smile, "It is a little jarring though, given how the King has otherwise surrounded himself with rather kind people, at least from what I’ve seen so far."

"We'll just need to keep our distance from her and any other darkness that lingers within these halls.” Wyll replied, their paces slowing to a stop as the pair glanced around the unfamiliar hallway, "Well, once we figure out how to navigate them first."

With an irritated groan, Rolan pushed aside the pages he had been futilely trying to read for a third time now and dragged a hand down his face, as if he could simply wipe the exhaustion off himself. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night, having spent most of it ensuring that word of his union with the princess of Sivailon would reach all corners of Waldemar by morning. Then the newly made King had turned his attention towards catching up on and resuming the countless other tasks that came with being a King, consulting the notes his court made during his absence and reading through the missives that never seemed to stop coming, before eventually falling asleep in his study.

He had woken up hours ago, his neck sore as he lifted his head from where it rested upon a missive from Thuria, a mining settlement on the outskirts of the kingdom. After checking to make sure that he hadn't damaged the parchment or the important information written upon it, the Dark King stood and began his day.

Tired as he was, Rolan was grateful that Gale let his fellow wizard lead the conversation when they crossed paths on the tiefling's way to the castle library. The normally verbose human only nodded as Rolan ordered that a tray of food be brought to his study, as had become the ruler's habit in the years since assuming power. The King was further relieved when Gale accepted the instruction to entertain their new Sivailon residents at breakfast—or whenever their moon-blessed royal would wake; perhaps Rolan would be lucky and she would only be awake at night.

Rolan shook his head in frustration as he recalled glimpsing how the people lining the streets of the capital had watched in awe at their new Queen's display of magic. The Dark King didn't have time to get hung up over his bride's subpar spellcraft, no matter how much the wizard in him bristled at the divine soul sorcerer's lack of skill and discipline, no matter how much it burned seeing the near reverence upon the people's faces—even as he saw how her cantrip flickered and wavered while his spells had steadily coiled through the air.

It didn't help that he is finding it rather difficult to keep his eyes open. Hells, Cal and Lia were probably correct about him not resting enough. He made another noise of bitter frustration as that text started to blur on the page… again.

As Rolan feels his eyes begin to grow heavy he shakes his head and jerks himself to his feet before dragging himself to the study's large window. Gripping the stone window frame, the Dark King allowed the sun to warm his face as he watched Waldemar's capital city bustling beyond the gates separating it from the palace grounds. It was still hard to believe that three years ago this kingdom was threatening to expel him and all others like him from their borders. Now he, one of the very "monsters" that was to be driven out, stands as its King.

Rolan's grip on the stone window frame tightens, as if the tiefling were trying to wring something out of the smoothly carved rock. He should never have hesitated all those years ago. It shouldn't have taken what happened to Lia for him to take action.

The Dark King shoved those thoughts aside, striding back to his elaborately engraved wooden desk, snatching up the missive from Thuria and one of the books he'd retrieved earlier from the library. His work is far from done and he would not make the mistake of hesitating again.

Three years later and there was still so much to do and more to prove. His marriage to a more palatable and noble-born figurehead was just the first step of that. Now, he needed to find where to direct his focus to next.

Absent-mindedly straightening his black jacket, Rolan opened a heavy door and stepped out into the hallway as he began to run through where he would most likely find Minthara about this time. In the back of his mind, the Dark King once again hoped he would be fortunate enough to not run into his new Queen while he looked for his spymaster. Perhaps he should ask Minthara to learn the schedules of their Sivailon residents so that he would know how to avoid them? Then again, the spymaster was likely already planning to do so anyway. Besides, the worst his new Queen would probably do is demand tea parties or for a tailor to make her dresses. Poor Kanon will be worked to the bone if that ends up being the case, but the wizard supposed he could pay his fellow tiefling extra for the work—especially if it meant keeping the royal sorcerer out of his hair.

Deciding he was thinking too much about his wife, Rolan turned his attention back to tracking down Minthara and back to the situation he wished to speak with his spymaster about. Summoning a mage hand to flip through the book he now balanced open with one of his real hands, Rolan's gaze alternated between trying to skim the pages for what he was looking for and taking brief glances around himself as he walked down the halls.

Perhaps Rolan shouldn't have been surprised when he collided with someone as he rounded a corner to the main hallway, the loud clattering and sloshing sounds which followed making him flinch back more than the initial impact had. Instinctively, he held the book away from himself even after he had already felt liquid splash against its cover and onto his hand, as if holding it away from him would somehow spare the book of further damage.

Rolan glared ahead of himself, irritation flaring and ready to snap at whoever he ran into, only to see a startled Alfira and a frowning Lakrissa. The wizard looked at what the two tiefling women were holding; Alfira was balancing a set of trays that had evidently been piled with silver objects while Lakrissa was hefting along a pair of jugs filled with... milk?

 "What the Hells are you two doing?!" he demanded, confusion lessening the otherwise harsh bite of his words, "What is all this crap?!"

"Take it up with your wife." Lakrissa snapped back at her King, clearly not appreciating his tone, "Alfira had to fetch 'all this crap' at her request!"

"What does she even need it for?” Rolan pressed, his temper threatening to rise again as he racked his mind for any sort of explanation, "Material components for some kind of spell?"

"No clue." Lakrissa scoffed, placing the two milk jugs on the floor so she could help Alfira in gathering up the fallen silver, “We've just been bringing silver vessels and milk to her room and leaving them there.”

"Bringing it to- Oh, this is ridiculous!" the wizard sputtered in mounting frustration before he stormed down the halls towards his Queen's chambers. "Do not bring her anymore until I figure out what the Hells she is up to!”

If his anger upsets or alarms the servants, none of them show it. Instead, his fellow tieflings merely move aside as they see Rolan marching down the halls and around corners until he finally reaches the Queen's chambers. Through the heavy wood of the closed door, he can hear at least two muffled voices from within the room.

 Not wasting any time on trying to deduce the owner of the voices or what they are saying, Rolan delivered two hard knocks that silenced whoever was on the other side. He doesn't have to wait long before the door opens to reveal his wife, though her expression hardens into a mask of neutrality when she sees who is standing in the hall. Whoever she'd been expecting, it clearly hadn't been the Dark King she was married to.

"Yes?” the sorcerer prompted him expectantly after a moment, not opening the door any further than she already had even as Rolan saw her human knight come up behind her.

"I demand entry.” Rolan stated curtly, his tail quietly lashing behind him as he waited for her to acquiesce in the face of the fiendish usurper and he tries to ignore the bitterness at the thought-

"No."

He barely has enough time to process her single syllable response before the door has already clicked shut.

Surprise gave way to burning frustration as the wizard loudly knocked his fist against the door, "I demand entry at once!”

The only response he receives is the sound of the door being locked.

Rolan dragged his hands down his face as he glared at the dark wood. As irritating as it is when people would flinch or fawn over the Dark King when in his presence, at least they would still be cooperating with him.

This woman is infuriating…

"Rolan?"

He turns his attention to see Gale and the Queen's lady-in-waiting, the two carrying various odds and ends including more silver. Even Tara was there with a few items held delicately in her jaws.

"You're in on this as well?" Rolan asked, doing his best to ignore the half-elf silently glaring at him, "What is going on?”

Before Gale can respond they all hear the door unlock and open again. The Queen's face is stern as she looks at her husband but brightens upon seeing the others. Murmuring a brief thank you to the human wizard and tressym, she pushes the door open a little further to let her lady-in-waiting inside. Before Gale can move to follow, Rolan blocked his fellow wizard's path with an arm while his glowing eyes remained fixed to his wife.

"Explain yourself." he bit out, his blood nearly boiling, "What are you up to?"

The Queen's knight positioned himself behind her, ready to bar anyone else from trying to slip through the doorway. The sorcerer briefly placed a comforting hand on the human's shoulder before turning to face the tiefling with narrowed eyes.

"Rather presumptuous of you to demand entry into my chambers like this." the Queen replied, her voice level but firm, "I must admit I'm also a tad surprised by your sudden insistence, considering you didn’t even bother to visit me last night.”

"What?" Rolan straightened his posture, bristling at her tone even as he stared her down with growing confusion, “Why the /Hells/ would I have come to see you last night?!"

Had he looked away, Rolan would have missed how the sorcerer's jaw had clenched and how her brow twitched as if struggling to maintain her composure. Closing her eyes for a moment, she slowly dragged in a harsh breath while her knight and lady-and-waiting shot each other a knowing look.

“Right. Of course." the Queen finally answered coldly, like she had to pry each word from her own mouth as she tossed him a parting glare before turning back into her room, "Now, excuse me, but I need to resume... adjusting.”

Rolan had barely begun taking a step to follow before her lady-in-waiting was there, pushing the King aside with a hand as if rebuffing an unruly apprentice, "Apologies, your Highness, the Queen will not be seeing anyone now. Goodbye.”

Then the half-elf slammed the door in his face, leaving Rolan tongue tied and seething. For a moment he contemplated banging on the door again and demanding an explanation.

What do they mean she would not be seeing anyone?! She had just been accepting silver and milk and whatever else it was Gale and Tara were bringing her, all with a smile on that pretty face of hers!

Feeling his tail erratically whip back and forth in response to his simmering temper, Rolan turned and stormed away. The Dark King refused to let their Sivailon residents see how much they had gotten under his skin. It wasn't long before the tiefling heard Gale following close behind. As soon as they were several halls away, Rolan's temper finally snapped and he began ranting at his fellow wizard.

Angry words spilled from Rolan like floodwaters from a shattered dam. The Dark King could hardly keep up with his own indignant tirade as it went from questioning why the Hells the Queen was having people running around gathering milk and silver for her bloody room to her refusal to answer him to the other confounding nonsense she had said to him as if he was the one who needed to explain himself to her!

"Visit her? Why would I have visited her last night?! Does she mistake me for one of her servants, there to be at her beck-and-call?!"

Gale, who had been following and waiting for his own opportunity to speak, made a hum of polite disagreement. Rolan looked back at his fellow wizard to see his friend clearly mulling over how to explain something.

Letting out a small huff, Rolan stopped to turn his full attention to the man beside him, “What?”

"Well, I must argue that you are being... rather uncharitable towards your new wife. Tara and I both thought she was quite polite while we shared breakfast, if a bit tense and reserved." Gale began, not even acknowledging when the Dark King rolled his eyes, "The Queen is clearly frustrated and, to be quite honest, I find it hard to fault her for that, especially the more I learn about your wedding night. Did you truly not even think to visit her?"

"What about it?" Rolan snapped, tired of everyone dancing around whatever this point was supposed to be.

"You know that newly weds... Well, it's not part of all unions but...” Gale tried to continue, suddenly seeming a bit awkward and self-conscious, “Most newly wed couples spend their first night together to… consummate the marriage..."

It was as if Rolan's whole body froze the moment it all finally clicked together. He began to replay his new Queen's words in his head, about him not seeing her last night, about him suddenly wanting to be in her room.

Had she been expecting me to-

"She- Help her with whatever she needs. See if you and Alfira can figure out what she's doing." the Dark King managed to get out between his now racing thoughts and waving the other wizard away, "I need to... Ugh, goodbye.”

And with that, Rolan was off. Even through the burning storm of his thoughts, he knew he couldn't go back to his own chambers—his chambers that her chambers were now directly across from. The tiefling doubted he would be able to endure facing her with his mind now kicked up into such frenzy. Beyond that, the Dark King hardly paid attention to where his feet were taking him, perhaps to his study were he could dump himself onto one of the decorative fainting couches lining the wall or perhaps to Cal's room to borrow his brother's bathing chamber so the wizard could dunk himself in cold water.

Zurgan. What is wrong with me?

[ficsforeren]

Our Little Secret - Chapter 6 (End)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Eren Jaeger X Female Reader

Genre: College AU, Spider-Man/Spider-Girl AU, Fluff, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Eventual Smut

Series Summary: Eren Jaeger, a 21-year-old virgin college student who loves his camera a little bit too much, has a crush on you. Every night, he switches on his camera and talks about you but he never could find the courage to speak to you in real life. Strangely enough, he finds it easy for him to befriend Spider-Girl, the crime fighting vigilante, not knowing that you both share the same identity.

Chapter Summary: Eren still can't believe that he just went on a date with the most popular girl in school and kissed the hottest superheroine in town all in one night. He tells himself that he has to make a decision—to choose between you and Spider-Girl, not knowing that you two are the same person. Well, maybe it's time for you to reveal your little secret.

Content Warnings: swearing, mentions of characters going through depression, traumatic past events, a little bit of smut near the end (not too explicit)

Word Count: 16k

Poster art by the most talented @rainbuniart on Twitter

Armin Arlert loves Eren Jaeger. He does. He really does, like in a platonic-but-can-also-be-qualified-as-super-gay-way-sometimes. 

He adores him. Might even name his fictional son after him in the future, who knows? He thinks Eren is the best friend he could ever ask for. Armin wouldn’t put his life on the line to save him, true, (‘cause as much as he loves the guy, that bitch can die on his own since it will probably be because of his damn fault anyway), but he would definitely sacrifice his most precious body pillow if Eren’s life depends on it and that’s saying something. Actually, hold up. Let’s not make any hasty decisions here. It’s a special, limited edition dakimakura with his fictional wife printed on it while wearing a slutty maid outfit. He ain’t gonna throw those glorious 2D titties just for Eren’s lousy ass.

Though his actions may speak otherwise, Armin does care about him. More than he has ever cared about anyone else, really. Even on those days back in high school when he was a bit… bicurious, Armin had imagined himself—more than once (or ten)—being with Eren and how hot it would be if he had Eren all tied up on his bed with his body shrouded by wet tentacles that were stimulating each of his sensitive spots. He knew it was weird to imagine his best friend begging him with tears in his eyes, saying lewd things like “Please, Master Arlert, please give me your thick, hard cock and fill me up with your seeds. I want you to breed me like a fucking whore,” but Armin was an eighteen-year-old virgin with a raging sexual desire, okay? Can you really blame him? (yes, please blame him, he's insane).

It didn’t help that Eren looked so pretty with his hair down either, especially when he was sitting half-naked on Armin’s bedroom floor during those hot summer days with a popsicle stuck inside his mouth, making questionable groaning and sucking noises as he jammed his thumbs against his X-Box controller. It also didn’t help that Armin had watched too much hentai in his spare time but at least, he was proud of it. Eren watched tentacles porn too—and enjoyed it—but he would always pretend he didn’t and say that he preferred lesbian porn just so he could “fit in” and “be normal” or whatever. Fucking coward.

We’re getting sidetracked but the point is, Armin loves Eren to the moon and back, but sometimes, sometimes, he just wants to break all 206 bones in his body, squeeze him into a pulp and flush him down the toilet. And by sometimes, he means now.

“Armin!” He can hear the sounds of small rocks hitting his window, followed by Eren’s husky voice calling his name in a mix between a shout and a whisper. “Armin! Dude, wake up!”

Armin only has one eye opened, glowering at the digital clock on his desk that shows it’s two in the fucking morning. His parents might be heavy sleepers—the government has to drop a nuclear bomb for them to wake up—but Armin needs complete silence to be able to wane into his dreamland (which would be the only place for him to be embraced by his fox-eared waifu). He tries to ignore the asshole standing outside his window, but that so-called green-eyed butthole is as stubborn as he is relentless. 

Gathering a handful of pebbles, Eren throws them one by one, continuously hissing Armin’s name like a demonic cat. With each stone hitting his window, Armin transforms even further into a seething monster. By the sixteenth pebble Eren throws, the blonde-haired boy pushes himself off the bed, grabs the baseball bat he hides inside his closet—which he bought not for sport, but for this very reason—and stomps his way to the front door.

“Armin!” Eren rejoices when he sees his best friend walking past his lawn, moving toward him. “Oh, thank God, you’re awake! I need to talk to you—WAIT, WAIT, WAIT, WHAT ARE YOU PLANNING TO DO WITH THAT BAT?!”

“I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU, JAEGER!”

It’s always like this with them—Eren annoying the shit out of him and Armin trying to kill him two or three times in a row—but it would all end well, not with laughter, but with a massive bump on Eren’s head that may or may not be big enough to trigger permanent brain damage. But then again, Eren is already an idiot. He’s probably maxed out at this point. 

“One of these days, Arlert,” Eren groans in pain, rubbing the back of his skull as he wills his tears to stop brimming in his eyes. “I’m gonna file a restraining order on you.”

“That’s my line, you nincompoop.”

“I don’t know what nincompoop means but that doesn't sound pretty.”

The two boys sit on the little stairs that lead to Armin’s porch (five feet apart ‘cause they’re not gay). Armin still has his baseball bat between his legs, his golden hair all tousled from his one-hour sleep. Eren, who’s usually attentive to another person’s well-being, is too excited to pay attention to the bags forming under his eyes. Playfully bumping his shoulder against Armin’s, he asks him, “Dude, guess who just had his first kiss tonight?”

“Why do we strive for perfection if it is not attainable?” Armin says, dramatically sighing into the night. “What is the meaning of a good life? Is there a meaning in life itself? Are we human or are we dancers?”

Eren, now confused, has his smile wavering. “The hell are you talking about?”

“Oh, I thought we were just throwing out random questions.”

“That last one wasn’t even a question. That was `Are We Human’ by The Killers.”

“Yes and they were asking us whether we are human or dancers when they should have been asking: why can’t we be both?”

“It’s me,” Eren replies flatly. “I just had my first kiss.”

“Oh, wow, congratulations. I did not see that coming at all.” There’s no mirth or enthusiasm on Armin's face. He's just clapping his hands as he keeps his voice monotone. “Your lips aren’t a virgin anymore. Make sure they don’t turn into a whore.”

Eren, well-accustomed to his sarcasm, remains unfazed, continuously acting like the love-struck puppy that he is. “Aren’t you gonna ask me how it felt like?” He wiggles his eyebrows, showcasing a cheeky grin. “I’ll give you a clue. The word starts with an A and ends with a G.”

“Anal Rimming?”

Eren sends him a flat stare. “It’s amazing.”

“Sure, if you say so. I mean, I’ve never done anal or rimming before so I wouldn’t know, but hey, if it’s amazing then good for you, buddy.”

“I meant the kiss, Armin!”

This attitude Armin is throwing at him is his way of saying dude, I love you but I’m so fucking pissed at you right now, and Eren understands how much he’s being selfish for taking Armin’s precious sleeping time. He knows and he apologizes for it. But if he doesn’t tell Armin about the kiss—about how he’s both overjoyed and conflicted by it—he’s sure as hell he’s going to lose his mind. 

Armin, despite how snarky he is, can only exhale exaggeratedly in defeat once Eren puts his best-kicked puppy look on display. “Fine, you twat. Spill.”

And with his permission, Eren’s words come rushing in like a bullet train. “Dude, it was insane.” Whenever he thinks about the kiss, the first thing Eren feels is joy. The kind of joy that is so fierce, it leaves him burned and paralyzed by it. “I’ve been imagining what my first kiss was gonna be like since forever but even the sweetest dream wouldn’t be able to compare to how amazing it was.”

Armin can see it—that glow on his face. It’s the first time he’s ever witnessed his best friend being this happy. It's disgusting. “You sound like that sappy Aerosmith song.”

“And to think that I was having my first kiss upside down!”

“Wait, what?” Armin finally shows a reaction, his eyebrows adjoined in the middle. “Upside-down?”

“Yeah, she was hanging upside down.”

“Hanging? How—why—” You know that Jackie Chan meme? The one with him looking all confused? Yeah, that’s Armin right now. “Where were you? In her room?”

“Umm… no. We were outside.”

“In public?”

“Yeah, but no one was around. Oh wait, there were like three guys around us but they were unconscious.”

The more he explains, the more perplexed Armin becomes. “Why were they—no, who were they?”

“Just some dudes wanting to steal my camera.” Eren turns sheepish, his index finger scratching his cheek at the memory of you fighting so gracefully under the rain, almost like dancing. The words he says don’t match his expression at all. “They had, like, a knife against my throat. It was really scary.”

“Oh yeah, I can tell, ‘cause you’re blushing so hard right now.” At this rate, being sarcastic is the only way for Armin to keep himself sane.

Eren, to Armin’s horror, giggles. “I remember the way she came by. It was so dramatic. She beat their asses to save my life like bam, kapoww, kapoww!”

Almost getting hit by Eren’s lame attempt at re-enacting your punches, Armin cringed, “Please stop.” 

“We kinda flirted a little bit after that and I just, you know…” Eren has really turned into a thirteen-year-old girl at this point. “I kissed her. She was hanging upside down. There was rain pouring above our heads and we were, like, smiling into the kiss. It was so romantic.”

Fuck Jackie Chan. That meme needs to be reinvented using Armin’s face now. He’s more confused than any Chinese man could ever be. “Hold up, you fucker.” He pushes his eyeglasses up his nose, a pair of sapphire eyes scrutinizing Eren's face as if he could find the answer if he looks hard enough. “How and why was she hanging upside down?”

“Well, she was about to swing away when I stopped her and so she was hanging onto her web and—”

“Her web?” This dude makes absolutely no fucking sense! Armin is now picturing you (not Spider-Girl. You.) in your preppy girl outfit hanging upside down on a tree like a fucking monkey, exchanging tongues and saliva with an actual monkey who was twice your size. The result? Absolutely ludicrous. “Dude, what kind of kinky shit are you guys into?!”

And it’s only then that Eren remembers something. “Oh, no, you’re getting the wrong idea. I wasn’t talking about her. I kissed a different girl.”

“You kissed a diff—” Armin stops himself before he explodes. Taking a deep breath, exhaling with his eyes closed, he mutters under his voice, “Lord, give me strength.” When he blinks open his eyes again, Armin seems much calmer, although his grip around his baseball bat is tightening twice as hard. His fingers are just itching to smack the shit out of his best friend. Again.

Eren, scared for his life, has both hands in the air. “Calm down, Min.”

“I’m calm, I’m calm.” But he takes another deep breath just in case. Armin smiles—that kind of deadly smile that doesn’t reach his eyes—when he asks, “Let’s start from the beginning. You went on a date with Miss Popular.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“But you didn’t kiss her and instead you kissed someone else.”

Now that Armin phrases it like that, that feeling of remorse that Eren felt an hour ago comes back rushing in. Eren still loathes himself for kissing another girl right after his date with you ended but the thing is, it felt right. It felt like it was something he had been wishing to happen for years. He had spent all this time imagining what it would be like to share a chaste kiss under the rain with you—the college version of you. But when the moment was there, he couldn’t do it. It didn’t feel right. He felt guilt at that time, knowing that Spider-Girl kept showing up in his head when he was supposed to be thinking about you. But he didn't feel any of that when he shared those kisses with that alter ego of yours. He just felt joy. It felt amazing. It felt right. 

But with Armin confronting him about it, he returns to the dilemma he was drowning himself in a few hours ago. The time when he realized that he was in love with Spider-Girl instead of you.

“Yeah,” Eren admits in shame, casting his gaze downward. “I kissed someone else.”

Armin fixes his glasses again, just so he’d have something to do instead of looking flabbergasted at the revelation. “And who did you kiss?”

“Umm… Spider-Girl.”

Armin looks at him and Eren looks back. Three seconds pass by in silence and then—

“AW!” Eren shouts in reflex, not caring if it’s two-thirty in the morning, right after Armin smacked him with the end of his baseball bat. “Dude, stop doing that! It hurts!”

“You’re fucking with me,” Armin says, hitting him repetitively on his side. “You’re absolutely fucking with me right now. Can’t believe I woke up to listen to you spouting bullshit!”

“I’m not bullshitting you!” Eren winces, trying to dodge his next attack.

“You’re saying you kissed one of the town's hottest superheroines? The same girl who took down the Lizard—no, the same girl who looks smoking hot in that white spandex—you kissed that girl?”

“Yes! Fuck—Stop hitting me!” Eren, at some point, manages to snatch away the bat from Armin’s grip. His body feels sore all over, even more than when he fought those men in the alley. “Yes, Armin, I kissed her.”

“Yeah,” Armin snorts. “And I just had some raunchy sex in the barn with Green Goblin. Expect his babies to pop out of my ass in nine months.”

The brunette rolls his eyes. “Look, Spider-Girl and I have been friends for weeks now. Here.” Eren retrieves his phone from his pocket, going through his gallery before he shows the selfie he took with you in your costume on the night you shared stories on the rooftop of St. Mark’s theater. You were both so close to each other, shoulders nearly squeezed together as you tried to fit your faces inside the frame. Eren had the biggest, gleeful grin, his skin seemingly tanner than usual next to your white mask and hoodie. Armin examines the picture with suspicious eyes, his gaze shifting back and forth from his friend’s face to his phone. 

“Hmm, very convincing,” Armin comments. “Not sure where you found the skill to photoshop this shit so fast when it took you a week to choose a fucking filter for your Twitter PFP but okay. Assume that I believe you—I don’t,” he emphasizes. “But for the sake of our conversation, let’s just assume I do."

"Fine." 

"So you kissed her.”

“Yeah.”

“Upside down in the rain?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And how was it?”

“It was…” Eren’s cheeks sizzle at the memory. “They were… soft. Her lips, I mean. They were so soft and they tasted… sweet.”

Armin’s expression turns from suspicious to I’m-tired-of-your-shit-Jaeger in 0.2 seconds. “I was thinking more like it was bad because I’m sure she had rain clogging up her nose, ‘cause that would’ve sounded more realistic, but sure, let’s be corny.”

“Wait,” Eren blanches. “Do you think she was uncomfortable?” It’s stupid that he only realizes this now, but then again, what else is new?

“Yeah, well,” Armin shrugs. “Hanging upside down certainly didn’t seem like it was the best position to make out in, 'cause you have blood rushing to your head and all. And since it was raining, she definitely had water getting up her nose.”

“Oh my God,” Eren utters in horror, his hands going to his head. “Why didn’t I think about that?”

“Probably cause you were too busy sticking your tongue down her throat.”

Eren has no consistency in managing his emotions because at one point he was panicking, and now, he’s back to giggling like a schoolgirl. “Yeah, we used tongue a few times. It was so exciting.”

“Give me back my bat. I’m gonna kill myself with it.”

But jokes aside, the question remains. How could Eren, who has zero games in dating as far as Armin knows, kiss another girl—and not just another girl, Spider-Girl—right after he went on a date with one of his campus’ most popular girls? Even the sentence sounds bizarre and he hasn’t spoken them out loud. Most importantly, though, why? Why did Eren do it? “I thought you were in love with her,” Armin says. “Miss Popular, I mean. You spent the entire summer jerking off to that one picture of her wearing that short skirt and now you’re saying you like some other girl whose face you don’t even know?”

“Did you have to phrase it like that?” Eren mumbles in shame though he can’t deny the fact that he did spend—well, not the entire summer, the entire two weeks, probably—masturbating to the thoughts of you. It wasn’t the proudest moment in his life, but in his defense, that skirt you wore looked super cute on you. “I know, I fucked up,” he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m the worst.”

“How did this even happen?”

Eren tells him everything, and the more details he reveals, the harder he drowns in his guilt. He feels like he just betrayed and disrespected you—both you and Spider-Girl and it hurts him terribly because he still can’t decide between the two of you. He’s so conflicted he feels like he’s about to vomit his insides. 

“It’s so weird, you know?” Eren says. “At the end of the date, I was sure she wanted me to kiss her. I mean, like, the moment was there. We both felt it, and I wanted to do it but I… I kept thinking about Spider-Girl and it just felt… wrong. I didn’t want our first kiss to go that way—me kissing a girl while thinking about another girl. It wouldn’t be fair to her.”

“Should’ve just kissed her, in my opinion,” Armin counters. “If you had done it, it would’ve been easier for you to make sure of your feelings now.”

 “But that would’ve made me the biggest asshole in the world.”

“You are the biggest asshole in the world. But yeah, probably. Did it feel right when you kissed Spider-Girl?”

Though the remorse on Eren’s face still stands vividly, some of it morphs into delight at the memory. “Yes, it was,” he admits. “It felt like… something I should’ve done weeks ago, you know? Like, why didn’t I realize sooner that I’m in love with her kind of feeling. And I keep thinking about everything—about my feelings toward Spider-Girl and my feelings toward her and it’s stressing me out. Do you think a man can be in love with two girls at the same time?”

“You’re talking to a guy who has, like, seven different waifus. Of course, you can,” Armin snorts. “The problem is, unlike my wives who don’t know I exist, you have to choose. Unless you want to continue being a gigantic fucking asshole for the rest of your life, you need to decide who you want to be with.”

“I know...” Eren starts chewing on the inside of his cheek. It feels like he has a storm raging inside him. “I think I’m in love with Spider-Girl because I feel like… I know her better. I mean, I’ve been spending more time with her, so she feels more like a person to me. More… You know, real.”

Armin nods. “But when you went on a date with Miss Popular, did you enjoy it?”

“I did.” His answer is immediate. “More than I expected I would. She was so nice and funny and she… She gave me a scarf ‘cause she thought I was cold. She was so caring. She was great.”

“What if her personality is just as attractive as Spider-Girl’s then?” Armin provides a new perspective—a genuinely good one, which is rare considering how big of a pervert he is. “I feel like you just need some time to get to know her better.”

“Yeah, but how can I do that if I keep thinking about Spider-Girl? What if every time I see her, all I do is compare her traits to hers? It’s not fair.”

“Okay, let me ask you this,” Armin sighs loudly into the air. “Can you really see yourself dating a superhero? You don’t even know her real identity or what she looks like. What if she’s ugly?”

“I don’t care how she looks.” Determination stands thick in Eren’s voice. “It’s her—” He clears his throat, his face turning scarlet. “I-it’s her heart that I love.”

“Oh my God, I’m gonna throw up on you.” 

“I mean like her mannerisms!” Eren hastily adds when Armin threatens to jam a finger inside his own mouth. “Her attitudes, the way she talks, the way she thinks, and the stuff we talk about—that’s what I care about the most. She’s my best friend.”

“Excuse me?” Armin repeats, offended, picking up his weapon.

“A-after you, of course.”

“That’s right, bitch.” He drops his baseball bat back to the ground. “Okay, fine, you don’t care if she’s ugly. Not my problem. But does she like you?”

“I think so? I mean, she kept asking me to kiss her again. You don’t do something like that with someone you don’t like, right?”

“Yeah, well, strangers fuck at nightclubs all the time. I won’t think too much over a kiss.”

The pretty shade of red that paints Eren’s face turns pale by the second. “You don’t think she likes me?”

“I do, but is it enough for her to want to date you?” Armin lands a hand on the other man’s shoulder, giving him his best sympathetic look. “I wouldn’t be so sure, man. Look, I’m not trying to sound like a douchebag for crushing your R-rated dream so early like this but you’re my friend and you need a reality check so here it goes. She’s a superhero. Okay? She’s busy. She doesn’t have time to play tonsil hockey with nerds like us. Plus, if she cares about you then maybe she won’t date you ‘cause you’ve seen what happened to Mary Jane, right? That chick got taken hostage at least once a week these days, ’cause of what?”

“Umm… Cause she’s dating Peter Parker?”

“That’s absolutely right, you nincompoop.”

“Like I said, I don’t know what nincompoop means.”

“At this point, MJ doesn’t even scream anymore when she has a gun pointed at her head. She’s just like—” Armin pretends he has his smartphone between his hands, his thumbs moving to type something. He keeps his face blank and his voice monotone, talking in an exaggerated New York accent. “‘Oh no, please, don’t hurt me, I’m scareeeed. Hashtag SpideyDrama, hashtag Spidey-MJLoveStory. Take a cute selfie with my kidnapper—” He pretends to take a picture, puckering his lips while forming a peace sign with his two fingers. “—aaaand post.’”

Under different circumstances, Eren would have laughed. Armin’s impression of her was spot on. “Yeah, but that’s because everyone knows that Peter is Spider-Man. No one knows who Spider-Girl is.”

“Yes, but if you keep making out with her in public, they’ll know about you, and then what? You want to start doing your own TikTok trend? Hashtag PrayforErenJaegerTheNewDamselinDistress?” Eren parts his lips to answer but he’s stopped by two hands squeezing him by the shoulders. “Look. Just give Miss Popular another try, okay? It’s easier to be with her than being with Miss Vigilante, I promise you. Plus, Spider-Girl knows how you feel about her, right? Don’t you think it would make you sound like a player if you talked like a lovesick fool about another girl, but then you confessed to her three days later?”

Again, it’s absolutely ridiculous that Eren just realized this now. “You’re right,” he utters in horror. “Holy shit, you’re right.”

“Of course, I am.” Armin scoffs, tossing back his imaginary long hair over his shoulder. “Forget about Spider-Girl for now. Give it a week or two to sort out your feelings. Or focus on something else, like jerk off to your favorite tentacle porn or something. If you still feel like you can’t move on from her then, we’ll go to Plan B.”

“W-what is that?”

Armin retrieves his bat. “Me, beating the shit out of you until you suffer from a massive concussion and forget about this whole thing.”

“Yeah, why don’t we just stick to Plan A for now, thanks. But no tentacle porn.”

"Pfft, whatever, your loss."

***

You have never—never—felt like you were floating in the clouds after sharing a kiss with a boy, and yet there you are, climbing through your window with the biggest dopey smile on your face. You take off your mask, throwing yourself on your bed with the longest, most blissful, content sigh you’ve ever heaved in your life. 

You have two fingers tracing over the seam of your lips, your skin somehow still tingles whenever the memory of that kiss resurfaces. The sweet, pleasant taste of his mouth still lingers near. The soft texture of his lips is the best thing you’ve ever felt against your own. 

“Eren…” His name drifts past your lips and you find yourself giggling, turning over to your stomach before you let out a high-pitched scream against your pillow. It felt like a first love’s kiss and perhaps it was since he is your first love, isn’t he? You haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. Every cell in your body seems to scream I love him, I love him, I love him every time his smile appears behind your closed lids. It feels like you’re thirteen again, just a lovesick girl whose fingers are itching to pour every emotion you felt into your journal. 

Dear diary, I’m in love. 

You didn’t think your first kiss with him would be like that, but it was ten times better. No, a million times better, even if you did have rain clogging up your nose at some point. Eren was so… passionate, you think to yourself as you feel your stomach flipping at the memory of his lips melding against yours. You may be a virgin, but unlike him, you have experienced many first kisses before and none of them was this memorable. None of them managed to awaken the butterflies in your stomach as his kisses did. And none of those boys tasted as good as he was.

“I am down so bad,” you sigh as you hug your pillow close to your chest, a dreamy smile sketched upon your lips. I can’t wait for tomorrow to come. I want to see him. I want to be with him again.

With that thought in mind, you begin to create your diabolical plan to reveal your true identity to him. As cute as he was looking all conflicted from falling in love with both you and Spider-Girl, you decide not to torture him even longer. It’s unbelievable, the amount of elation you felt the moment you realized that he’s fallen for Spider-Girl. It’s clear proof that he wasn’t just attracted to your looks, but your personality too. It puts you at ease, knowing that he keeps catching feelings no matter what persona you’re putting in front of him. He fell for you when you were just an innocent little girl who couldn’t do anything but fangirl over Wonder Woman all day. He fell for you when he saw you stepping onto the podium to accept your science medal, blinding everyone with your perfect smile. And he fell for Spider-Girl, your alter ego that embodied your true personality.

I wonder how you would react when you find out that I’m all those three?

“Maybe I should step up my game,” you mumble to yourself. “Maybe I should be a little…”

The corners of your mouth curve up. Your smirk is just straight-up evil at this point. Hell, even Norman Osborn didn’t look this wicked when he turned into Green Goblin. 

“Aggressive.”

***

When Eren told his brother, Zeke Jaeger, that he wanted to borrow his motorcycle to pick up a girl this morning, his brother was on the floor. Literally on the floor. 

Zeke was skeptical at first, snorting loudly as he muttered, “Pfft. As if you could get a girl to notice you. Bet my ass you’re just being delusional.” But then Eren, heaving the biggest sigh, raised his phone in the air, flashed his wallpaper—that one picture you took on your date with you smiling as you kissed his cheek—on his brother’s face and Zeke collapsed to his knees.

“Oh my God.” Zeke landed both palms on the parquet, eyes shaking in horror. “Oh my fucking God.”

Eren, who was accustomed to his brother’s dramatic antics, simply shrugged when his aunt Dina looked at them funny. “He’s having a moment,” he explained and Dina just returned to her cooking, not wanting to deal with any of that. 

It usually took Zeke a while to get back on his feet—literally—when he was having an episode like that. Eren simply waited with his back leaning against the wall, checking his watch with boredom written in his eyes. “Try and make it quick. I got a date.”

“I can’t believe you found yourself a girl before me,” Zeke sobbed. “I thought it was Armin dressing up as a girl again—"

“We’re over that phase now.”

“—but no, she’s actually a cute fucking chick. Probably has massive badonkers too.”

“Please don’t say that.” Great, now I can’t stop thinking about it too, Eren adds inwardly, face flushed. What if she… does have massive badonkers—I mean, tits—I mean, breasts. He shakes his head. Eren, you idiot. Who cares if she has huge boobs or not. Flat, or huge, those are still great tits—no, stop thinking about her tits!

“Fuck, what if it’s true?” Zeke looked up to his brother from below, like a tortured servant to his sadistic master. “What if she’s packing some dobonhonkeros? Like, massive dohoonkabhankoloos, ya know what I mean? Big old tonhongerekoogers—”

“Language, Zeke,” Dina chimes in from the kitchen. “I don’t understand what you’re saying but I know they’re filthy words so stop it.” 

Eren, in the meantime, is conflicted between not thinking about your breasts or smacking the shit out of his brother. “You’re being disrespectful, stop it.”

“GOD, I WANT A GIRLFRIEND—”

“JUST GIVE ME THE GODDAMN KEYS!”

Zeke, almost with tears painting his eyes, handed them over to him. “Once you’re finished with it, do me a favor and just run me over. I don’t have the dignity to keep on living anymore.”

“Will do,” Eren said—promised—as he threw a black leather jacket on top of his white shirt. “I’ll be back in two hours,” he informed his aunt. “We’re just gonna study in my room after that.”

“Studying each other’s bodies?” Zeke uttered with jealousy coating his tongue. “Gross.”

“Statistics, actually.” Eren planted a small peck on Dina's cheek. “See you, Aunt Dina.”

“Bye, love,” Dina chuckled, seemingly proud that her nephew—one that she regarded as her own child, unlike the other one—was old enough to bring a pretty girl home with him. “Make sure to bring her something. Us girls love gifts.”

“Okay.”

“And buy some condoms on your way home.”

Eren nearly tripped over his feet. “I-it’s not like that!”

Zeke was lying flat on the floor at this point, like a stabbed victim on a crime scene, only in his case, the knife was invisible and he was bleeding tears from his eyes. “When can I get myself some bonkhonagahoogs…”

“Please kick him out before I get home,” Eren said.

“Trust me, darling,” Dina sighed. “I've been trying to do that since day one.”

“Guys, I’m literally right here.”

“Shut up, Zeke.”

***

Eren is just as jittery as he was during his first date with you, only this time, it’s ten times worse as he keeps thinking about Spider-Girl no matter how much he tries not to. The guilt he felt over the kiss sticks permanently in his mind, and it feels like he just committed adultery with a church elder or something when he isn’t even in a relationship with you—any version of you. But even so, he tries to stick close to his plan. He has promised to spend some time studying for finals with you, and he intends to give his full attention to you and no one else. Since he’d brought you a bouquet yesterday, he decided to buy you homemade chocolate truffles from this cute candy store downtown, one that Dina claimed to be the best one in the world. 

He arrives two hours early at your ballet studio, feeling so nervous to see you again that he feels like the whole world is spinning too fast before him. He’s waiting outside in the parking lot, leaning against Zeke’s all-black Royal Enfield Classic 350 with his phone in one hand and his head on the clouds.

What am I going to say to her? Can I even act normally around her? What if she—

“Eren.”

“Fuck!” The boy jumps on his feet, almost losing his grip on his phone from how startled he is. He spins his head around to the side, spotting you standing close with your gym bag slinging on one shoulder. His shock-filled eyes quickly traverse down your body, taking in the sight of you dressed casually in your fitted black tank top and white track jacket. “W-why are you not wearing your tutus?”

Out of all the things he could’ve said, of course, that’s the first thing that comes out of his mouth. “Because I’m still outside and my practice isn’t going to start for another ten minutes?” You reply with a hint of teasing in your voice. “You look handsome today, by the way. I always think you look hotter wearing a leather jacket instead of a hoodie. Not that I don’t like it, though. Hoodies make you look cute.”

This is an ambush, Eren thinks. You, casually throwing your compliment at him as if it’s nothing, feel like a fucking ambush to him. “I—Umm—You look—You look cute too.”

“Thank you,” you titter. “I can’t believe you arrived here before me.”

“Oh... Y-yeah.” It suddenly feels like it’s twenty degrees hotter for him. “I guess I was a little early.”

“As always,” you toss him a smile—the one that has the perfect amount of beauty and shyness that makes his heart swell in his chest. “You’re not planning to wait out here for two hours, are you?” When Eren has no answer to give, you chuckle. “Gosh, you are too cute. Come here.”

“Huh?” 

“You can wait inside.” It’s so natural the way you tangle your hand around his even when you can feel your own heart palpitating. “It’s warmer there.”

Eren, with his cheeks turning scarlet, follows after you. “Is—is it really okay?”

“Well, no. Usually, we don’t allow strangers to watch our rehearsals.”

“Then, why—”

“Relax, Ren.” You hurl a wink at him. “Petra—my instructor—is a close friend of my mother. I’ll just tell her you’re my boyfriend and she’ll make an exception for me.”

Three things left him dumbfounded. The first one is clearly the fact that you just called him your boyfriend. Second, it’s that naughty, naughty wink you threw at him, one that matches your cute little devilish grin. But none of those were as surprising as the way you called him with that nickname. 

Ren.

You’ve never called him that before, have you? But Spider-Girl called him Ren all the time, which is why to his ears, it sounds so familiar. The way you said it. The way your voice sounded when you did. Even if his mind tries to deny it, his heart still pounds. It feels so strange for this to just be a coincidence but you don’t give him a chance to think about it long.

“I’m gonna go change into my tutus, okay?” You tease him once you enter the studio, chuckling at your own words. “You can sit at the back. Try not to stare at the other girls as you wait.”

He knows he’s dumb but today he just feels ten times dumber and it shows. “W-why not?”

“Well, obviously, because you’re pretending to be my boyfriend today.” You reach out a hand to fix the collar of his jacket, watching him flinch at the way your fingers brush against his collarbone. “And also…” You look up at him, turning your voice into a breathy whisper as you feign a pout. “I don’t like seeing you look at other girls. I want you to look at me.” You take a hold of his key-shaped pendant, twisting your fingers around his necklace. “Only me.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. If there was steam coming out of his ears, Eren wouldn’t be surprised. He does feel like his face is about to explode. “I-I’ve only been looking at you.”

“You sure?” Your tongue peeks out to wet your lower lip and Eren swallows at the sight. “You seemed so… distracted last night. You weren't thinking about some other girl, were you?”

He’s staring at your lips. He’s definitely staring at your lips. Oh my God, her lips. “I—I didn't—I wasn’t—” He’s panicking. He’s already having a hard time trying to stay alive from your attack. You really didn’t need to bring back Spider-Girl into his head, but you did and that’s why you fit more as a supervillain instead of a hero.

Eren can practically taste the minty scent of your breath from how close you are when you grin at him. “I’m kidding,” you giggle, patting his cheek and giving him back his space. “You look like you’re about to pass out. You okay over there, big boy?”

“Yeah…” Just feeling like I’m having a cardiac arrest but I’m fine. “Good luck with your dancing—your practice. Break an arm.”

God, he’s an idiot, I love him. Refraining yourself from laughing, you stand on your toes and grant him a soft kiss on his cheek. “It’s break a leg, dummy,” you whisper in his ear, your smirk brushing against his earlobe. His face is practically in flames when you turn on your heels, tossing him one last smile before you disappear inside the changing room. 

The rehearsal starts on time and there you are, walking back into the studio dressed in pink seamed ballet tights, a black halter-neck leotard, and a pair of beige pointe shoes. Your outfit, the way the fabric hugs your body tightly, leaves no room for his imagination to wander. It’s so unfair that you look both adorable and effortlessly sexy at the same time. Eren doesn’t know whether he wants to say, “You’re so cute, I want to squeeze your cheeks!” or “You’re so hot, I wanna clap those cheeks.” He wants to do both, honestly, but he’ll need to rephrase that last line if he wants to be, ehem, respectful.

He can see your back muscles contracting as you perform, your skin glistening under the light, coated by a thin layer of sweat that somehow only makes you look more erotic. He hates the way his mind thinks, so he tries to focus on your movements instead. Every posture you strike is as graceful as it is beautiful and Eren has to remind himself to blink before his eyes fall out of his sockets from staring too long.

You try to concentrate as much as you can on the instructions Petra gives you but every time you see your reflection in the mirror, you also notice the way his eyes are entranced with every gesture you make. He’s staring at you like you’re the only girl in the room—the only girl in the world, even. As much as it pleases you to be the center of his attention, it’s also harder for you to focus on your steps. You just can’t wait for your practice to end.

Eren is so captivated by everything you do, and if he had brought his camera with him, he would’ve taken every bit of your expression. He wishes he could record everything. The way your body moves… Even the slightest lift of your finger is fascinating to him. At this moment, all thoughts about Spider-Girl vanish away from his mind. It feels like he’s falling for you all over again, his heart throbbing like on that day when he saw you on campus for the first time. You’re so pretty. So, so pretty that you leave him breathless.

“Hey,” you greet him again once your rehearsal has ended. “Sorry you had to wait long.” You’re dabbing a towel against the side of your face, gathering your belongings in your arms as the other students are making their way to the changing room without you. “I’m all sweaty so I’m just gonna go take a shower real quick. Is that okay?”

Eren can see a bead of sweat running down the side of your face, disappearing right between your cleavage. It’s the most pornographic thing he’s ever seen and this comes from the man who spent the whole summer watching questionable porn clips with Armin. It also doesn’t help that Zeke’s face keeps appearing in his mind, whispering to him, “Bro, look at those badonkers,” and no, Eren doesn’t want to look at your badonk—breasts. It’s very inappropriate, and you deserve to be respected. 

Fucking monke. Eren is going to run him over for real after this.

“Eren? You okay there?”

He coughs once, trying to focus on your face instead of your, in Zeke’s words, dohoonkabhankoloos. “Yes, I—uhh… I’ll just go wait outside, okay?”

“Okay.”

You’re not sure what you’re expecting but when Eren walks away without saying anything about your performance, you feel a sliver of disappointment growing inside you. Keeping your thoughts to yourself, you tighten your grip around your bag and pivot on your heels.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Eren says, stopping you in your tracks. You turn around, facing him with a questioning brow. The boy smiles at you, doing it so beautifully, so delicately, so lovingly that you feel like you can fight the whole world just to protect that smile. “You look so beautiful when you dance,” he says, his eyes gleaming in the adoration he holds for you. “So graceful, you’re like, uhh… Like an angel.”

It’s corny. It’s corny and cliche, and embarrassing, and you love it. If anyone else had said it, it would’ve sounded like the cringiest pick-up line, but not him. Eren said it like a confession as if he truly felt that way and he had to tell you the truth no matter what. He doesn’t intend to sound corny, of course, but what can he do? You did look like an angel in his head. But now that he’s hearing the words out loud, he can’t help but feel mortified by them. “S-sorry,” he blushes. “I didn’t mean to sound so… lame.” 

“No, it’s fine.” You could feel a pleasant warmth pooling inside your stomach. “Thank you.” You smile back at him, a bit timidly but as beautiful as always. “Will you… come and watch my recital next time? It’s not until three months from now, but—”

“Of course!” His eyes light up in excitement, his voice loud enough to make three people turn their heads at the sound. “Of course, I would love to! Can I bring my camera with me?”

You almost laugh. He reminds you of that little Siberian husky he owns, the way she looked so excited as she ran down the street, chasing a hummingbird. “Yes. Yes, you can.”

***

There are a lot of things Eren is grateful for in his life. He’s thankful that he has his Aunt Dina taking care of him and his brother after his parents passed away. He’s thankful that he has Zeke, no matter how obnoxious he is, for always lending him his credit card whenever Eren is in desperate need of money (involuntarily, true, but let’s not get into details). He’s thankful that he has Armin in his life to knock some sense back into him, both literally and figuratively speaking. And of course, he’s thankful that he met you—every version of you, though he hasn't noticed yet. But today… Today he doesn’t direct his gratitude to his Lord. Today, he wants to thank whoever it was who decided that motorcycles should have these super cramped seats because holy shit, they’re doing God’s work.

“I’m sorry for holding onto you like this,” you say with your hands tangled around his waist, a little bit embarrassed with how close you are to him. The motorcycle itself is designed to be a two-seater, but apparently, comfort for the pillion has not been a priority—which is a good thing for Eren because you don’t have other options left but to have your front all squeezed against his spine to fit in.

“Umm…” Eren swallows and he swallows hard. You’re wearing his leather jacket above your clothes and yet he can still feel the way your breasts—oh my God, they’re so soft—are pressed against his back. Maintaining his eyes on the road, he tries to focus on his surroundings as best as he can. “I-it’s okay.”

“Are you sure you’re not cold? You can take back your jacket if you want. I can just use mine.”

“No, it’s fine. Yours is too thin.” He refrains himself from sniffling because damn it, it is cold. He should’ve thought of bringing a spare jacket for you, but no, of course, being the idiot that he was, he didn’t. “Don’t worry about it. My house isn’t far from here.”

“Okay.” Despite his reassurance, you still have your eyebrows knitted in concern as you can still feel him shivering from the cold. As a way to warm him up—which is only an excuse for you to touch him even more, and to continue with your diabolical plan—you embrace him from behind, tightening your arms around him just a little bit harder. 

Fuck, Eren thinks, face flushed. You’re plastered against him like a conjoined twin and he can feel your warmth seeping through his shirt. It’s a wonder that he’s still able to maintain his grip on his vehicle. “W-what are you doing?”

“Umm… Making you feel warm?” You reply sheepishly which drives him insane. You’re already so beautiful and sexy in his head, now you get to be so innocently adorable too?

Eren only responds with a little "Oh..." because that’s the only thing his pea-brain can manage to form with all this blood rushing to his head. God, you wish you could steal a glimpse of his face. What kind of expression does he have right now? He must look so cute.

He’s dying, that’s how he looks. Probably about to combust into flames too. Why are they so sooooft, Eren wants to whine, feeling your chest pushed up against his back even more. Is this the kind of sweet torture people talk about? The kind that makes you feel like you’re both in heaven and hell at the same time? It certainly feels like one. 

“Sorry, Ren…” Noticing the way his body is tensing, you loosen up your hold. “Am I making you feel uncomfortable?” 

“No!” Eren takes off his left hand from the steering wheel and snatches yours back before you can retrieve it. He keeps it in place, pressing your splayed fingers tight against his stomach until you can feel the shape of his abdomens underneath the thin layer of his white shirt.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” he says, his voice subdued by the wind. You fail to notice the way he stutters his words. “Hold on tight so you won’t fall."

When he’s only driving twenty miles per hour because of traffic ahead, even if you did fall, you would only get a scratch on your palm at most but neither of you cares. You both know it’s just an excuse anyway. "Okay."

"And also, uhh…” Eren is glad he has his helmet on to conceal his face. “It’s… warm. You, I mean. You're so warm.”

“I'm glad I am,” you giggle, winding your arm around him again, even going as far as resting your chin on his shoulder. Feeling a bit naughty, you lower your pitch, seduction ringing in his ears. “Kinda wish we were alone in your room right now,” you purr, your fingers hovering dangerously close above the hem of his jeans. “I know something else we can do to warm you up.”

That’s it. That’s the final string. Eren’s concentration breaks and he’s easily startled by the car driving past him on his right. Veering his vehicle immediately to the side, he nearly collides with the motorcycle on his left. 

“WATCH IT, JACKASS!”

“Sorry,” Eren mutters in chagrin, while you’re cackling like a witch behind him. From his bar-end mirror, you can see how he childishly pouts at your laughter. “Why are you laughing—that wasn’t funny!”

“It was a bit funny,” you sneer. “You panicked like a girl.”

“Well, you were saying some nasty things to me!”

“What nasty things?” 

“Y-you said you were going to do something else to warm me up.” 

“Yes, I was speaking about making some hot chocolate for you. What were you thinking about?”

He opens his mouth, closes it, and repeats these two actions three times more before he gives up and grouses, “Oh, shut up.” Eren spends the rest of his drive pretending to be upset about it, even when you can tell he’s having the hardest time masking his smile. He can’t do it for long since your giggle is infectious. 

“You seem happy,” he comments, mirroring the joy on your face. 

“That’s because I am,” you reply, snuggling close. “I feel like I’m the happiest when I’m with you.”

Oh, for fuck's sake. “Don’t make me crash our bike into another car, I swear to God—” 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!”

When the laughter has receded, Eren shares stories about Dina and Zeke, the two family members he loves dearly—well, he loves Dina, Zeke can go to hell (affectionately)—and how they are very excited to meet you today. But the second you arrive at his house, no one comes to answer the door.

“Weird,” Eren mutters as he walks past the entrance, dropping the keys on the counter. “I thought they’d be—” He stops short when he notices a piece of paper lying on the coffee table. With a frown, he picks it up and runs his eyes across Dina’s neat handwriting.

Zeke and I are going shopping to give you kids some time alone. We’ll eat outside too so we won’t be back until nine. Remember to use protection ;) - Love, Dina.

Eren, too busy trying to understand what the fuck is going on, doesn’t notice the way you’re standing on your toes, trying to steal a peek at the paper from behind his shoulder. Unlike him who needs a whole minute to process her words, it only takes two seconds for you to finish reading the whole thing. 

Eren shrieks at your presence, crumples the paper with both hands, tosses it inside the trash bin, and hopes the whole thing gets swallowed by hellfire. “You—You didn’t read that, did you?” It feels like he has his heart throbbing in his throat.

“Read what?” You play dumb, even tilting your head to the side for a cute, dramatic effect.

“Nothing,” he says, and when you arch your eyebrow at him, he spins you around, placing both hands on your shoulder as he guides you down the hallway. “Let’s just go to my room. Go, go, go, go, go.”

“Wait.” You stop him with one hand in the air, putting on your best solemn face. “Have you brought protection with you?”

“OH MY GOD, GO!”

***

Things aren’t going as smoothly as Eren had planned. Actually, nothing went as planned. For all he knew, all he had been doing was just turning red like a fucking tomato for the whole two hours he had spent with you, and you teasing the shit out of him. And it doesn’t seem like you’re going to stop anytime soon!

Is she planning to kill me? He sighs as he opens the door that leads to his bedroom, welcoming you in. She wasn’t like this yesterday. Now, don’t get him wrong. Eren loves how aggressive you’re being—he hasn’t unlocked his kink yet, but he’s secretly a sub who longs to be dominated by his women, both in bed and in real life—but with how smooth you’re going right now, constantly flirting with him as if it would kill you if you didn’t make him blush every ten minutes, this is getting so bad for his heart.

And it doesn’t help that he’s now alone with you in an empty house for the next—he takes a glimpse at his phone screen to check on the time—three hours and twelve minutes. His thoughts are going insane. From Dina’s message to the image of you in your skin-tight leotard, and of course, the way you embraced him on the ride home too. You’ve been giving him signs that you like him. You’re more honest and blatant compared to how you behaved during your date, and as much as he is certain that Spider-Girl is the woman he’s in love with, he can’t deny that he has feelings for you too. And the way you’re looking at him right now, sitting on the edge of his bed in your cute little red dress and your cute little matching headband with your smile never faltering away from your lips—everything about you right now is so… titillating.

“You’re such a dirty boy,” you smirk.

Eren nearly collapses. “W-what?” What the hell is happening? She can hear my thoughts now? WHAT IS GOING ON?! “What do you—I’m not—I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I said you’re a dirty boy.” Your salacious smirk turns into a mischievous grin. “As in your room is a mess.”

“Oh!” He laughs once in relief, his hand coming up to wipe cold sweat off his forehead. “Oh, you were talking about my room, thank God.” Wait. He panics again, eyes moving back and forth from one corner to another, scanning his room. He’s sure that he’s cleaned up everything he could this morning, and by cleaning up, he means picking everything off the floor, jamming them inside his closet, and pretending that they don’t exist. Everything seems to be in order. There are no clutters on his computer desk. No laundry on the floor. Sure, the books on his shelf are in disarray, but at least they’re not too dusty. “It looks clean to me, though.”

“On the outside, sure,” you titter. “But your wardrobe looks like it’s seconds away from exploding. I don’t need to take a peek inside to know that you have dirty clothes and questionable things stored there.”

“I don’t have… q-questionable things,” Eren says very unconvincingly. Poor boy can’t lie to save his life. Unable to stand the way you narrow your eyes suspiciously at him, he sighs in defeat, “Well, it depends on how you define questionable.”

“Playboy magazines?”

“Nope.” Why should I buy one when I can just see naked girls for free on PornHub?

“Erotic novels?”

“No.” Ha ha, too bad. You were close, though, cause instead of erotic novels, I read—

“Erotic mangas, then?”

Fuck. “N-no,” he coughs out.

You wait for him, watching him with the nastiest grin you could muster until he gives up on his lies. “All right, all right, you got me,” Eren says, rolling his eyes. “I have some hentai mangas hidden in my closet. Happy now?”

“Immensely,” you chirp back and whatever it is you’re doing, it’s working well because Eren feels like he can breathe properly again. 

Now that the tension isn’t as suffocating, you both settle down on the carpeted floor, your backside leaning against the side rail of his bed. You have your textbook perched on your lap, a pen between your fingers as you teach him about univariate and bivariate transformations. Eren wears a pair of eyeglasses when he studies, and you hate whoever invented those black frames for making him look more attractive than he already is as if his little man-bun wasn’t strong enough to emphasize that. 

An hour passes by in a flash and Eren asks for a ten-minute break. You follow him to the kitchen, watching him make two cups of hot chocolate while casually throwing back some of your earlier teasings. It feels so domestic—the playful banter you throw, the way you share smiles and giggles while you both sit on the kitchen aisle with your legs dangling in the air. And while you secretly fantasize about spending every morning with him like this, Eren is constantly reminded of the time he spent with Spider-Girl.

Why does this feel so familiar? He ponders. Is your personality similar to hers? Is it the way you talk? Or is it because he unconsciously starts projecting Spider-Girl on you? Because he can’t stop thinking about her even when he’s trying his best to focus on you today? He grows restless at the thoughts. Because if that’s the case, then what’s the point of doing this? It’s clear that he’s still searching for Spider-Girl everywhere he goes. Even when he’s seeing you, he still thinks about her. He was sure he managed to forget about her earlier today, but the more he grows comfortable with you, and the more you show your true personality to him, the more he sees Spider-Girl in you.

When you return to his bedroom with him trailing after you, you notice a little box sliding out of his bag. Eren follows your gaze, mumbling, “Oh, shit, I forgot,” under his breath before he snatches it away. “I bought something for you earlier today,” he says, taking a seat on the edge of his bed with you settling down right next to him. “I wanted to give this to you back when we were at the studio but…” He smiles a little bit sheepishly as he hands it over to you. “I got, uhh… distracted.”

The way he said his words, it was clear that you were his distraction. “Thank you,” you reply, your fingers playing with the little red bow that ties the package together. “You’re always so thoughtful. I wanted to give you something too, actually, but I couldn’t get it done on time. It’s going to take a little while before I can finish it.”

“Oh?” His whole face brightens at once, seemingly giddy at the thought, as it would be the first time he’ll receive a handmade gift from the opposite sex. “You’re making something for me?”

“Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a surprise.” Your coquettish smile quickly becomes one of his favorite things in the world. “For now,” you land a hand on his shoulder, leaning up to brush your lips lightly against his cheek. The kiss is light and chaste, and yet, Eren turns rigid, his heartbeat roaring in his ears. You break away with a bashful smile painting your lips. “I hope that’s okay?”

“Umm…” He mumbles out, unfocused. “Yeah…”

The moment is there. The same atmosphere, the same tension that you felt when you were about to part ways at the end of your date has returned, ten times thicker than before. You maintain your gaze on his face, while Eren learns the texture of your lips with his eyes. They seem so soft, so inviting and he wants it. He wants to know how it would feel like to have your mouths pressed against one another but at the same time…

He’s conflicted again, you think to yourself, and if you’re not careful, your devilish smirk will rise to the surface again. It’s such a fun game watching him like this. You can almost literally see the way he’s battling against himself. On one side, he wants to kiss the bejeezus out of you, while on the other hand, he wants to push you away and say, “Girl, you’re making my jeans tighter than ever but this heart only belongs to one woman, and as long as you’re not dressed in white spandex, you’re not her.”

The evil that you are, you plan to make it even more interesting. “Kiss me.”

Somewhere at the back of his head, a nuclear bomb explodes, killing half of his brain cells at once. “W-what?” Eren croaks out, sounding like he hasn’t spoken in years. 

You lean closer, your breath fanning his lips. God, your perfume, the scent of your breath—you smell so fucking wonderful. Sliding a hand up his chest, fingers gliding smoothly against the fabric of his shirt, you whisper again, “I want you to kiss me, Ren.”

“I—mmph—” His eyes close in reflex the moment your lips touch his, his eyebrows sewn together in the middle. You frame his cheek, bringing him closer to you than ever. For a moment, he succumbs, his fingers fisting the sheets underneath him. You press your body against him, and he wonders if you can feel his heartbeat reverberating on your skin. He lets out this cute little whine when he feels you parting his lips with yours, but the second he feels the tip of your tongue touching his, his body flinches and Eren breaks away.

“S-sorry.” He stands up abruptly from the bed, one hand shooting up to cover the bottom half of his face. His blush creeps up from his neck to the tip of his ears. He seems breathless, panicking out of his mind.

Your lips are just itching to exhibit a wicked grin but you pretend to be confused. “Is there something wrong?”

“I—I can’t—” He’s looking anywhere but your face, jittery hands moving animatedly as he speaks. “You and me—we can’t—I can’t do this with you—Not right now—Not when I’m—I can’t, I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Poor Rennie looks like he’s having a heart attack. “You can’t?” You’ve never taken any acting classes before, but you’re sure as hell this performance you’re doing right now deserves an Oscar's Best Actress nomination. Guess binging Euphoria all weekend has some perks after all. “But…” You perceive him with glassy doe eyes. “I thought you liked me…”

“I did!” He shouts out the words like it physically pains him to say them out loud. He’s losing his mind and it’s hilarious. “I did…” Eren goes down to his knees before you, his hands reaching out to take yours before he settles them on your lap. They’re sweating, and so cold. “I really liked you but…”

You start to feel bad but the sadistic villain inside you wants to see more so you just fake a sob. “But now… You don’t like me anymore…”

“Oh, God.” You, brushing your nonexistent tears with your fingers right now, are his kryptonite. “Please don't cry. No—no, it’s not like that! I like you!” he shouts, his eyes shaking as he peers into yours. “Jesus, I think I even loved you at some point and maybe I still do, I don’t know—I don’t understand my feelings right now, I just—”

“It's okay,” you say, trying to calm him down. You're a bit worried now because if this guy ends up passing out, that’s going to be your fault. “It’s all right, Ren… I know what you’re saying…”

He pauses to take a deep breath. When he speaks again, he no longer sounds as squeaky as before. “Listen to me,” he squeezes your hand, and even if his fingers are still trembling, they’re doing their best to comfort you. “I really, really do like you. Honestly? I was so obsessed with you before. I stalked you like a pervert. I took pictures of you when you weren’t looking. I've had your photo as my wallpaper for God knows how long. My video journals—”

Are all about me, you echo the words in your head as he speaks the same thing. Oh my God, he’s freaking out so bad, he’s telling every bit of his secret now. So cute. 

“I did all those things because I liked you and you should hate me for it—”

“I’ll never hate you, Ren. I want to be with you.”

You’re killing him. You can tell you’re killing him inside. “And you don’t know how much those words mean to me but the truth is, I’m—” He hesitates, still contemplating whether he should say the words out loud. He doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, but if he continues doing this, letting his desire overtake him once again, he’s only going to hurt you even more. He needs to make a decision. “I’m in love with someone else.”

You fake a gasp, even going as far as covering your mouth with both hands. “Y-you are?”

“Yes…” He answers in dismay. “I know maybe I should give myself some time to figure this out but I don’t want to be selfish. I don’t want to make you wait for me. I don’t want to make you feel confused. And I know it would be easier to love you instead of her—I don’t even know how she feels about me but… I can’t. I can’t deny that I’m in love with her. And it’s not fair if I keep doing this with you when I keep thinking about someone else. I don’t want to be that kind of person.”

He’s kind. Eren is always kind. He could’ve just dated you both if he wanted to, but he didn’t. “I see,” you solemnly respond. “Can you… tell me who you’re in love with?”

He nibbles on his lip, looking down when he says, “S-Spider-Girl.”

FUCK, YES! In your mind, you’re punching the air in triumph with Cardi B and DJ Khaleed throwing a party in the background, celebrating your victory. But if you take a look at the situation, how fucking ridiculous is this? Imagine if Spider-Girl wasn’t your alter ego. It would be like you confessing to that delusional nerd Armin, only to be rejected by him saying he’s in love with a random cosplayer whose real name he didn’t even know. Well, with Armin, it’s still a plausible thought. Ridiculous, sure, but plausible.

“I see…” You land a hand above your heart, pretending like it’s breaking when you’re really trying your best not to cackle like a madman. “Oh, gosh… I don’t know what to say… This is such shocking news to me.”

Colors drain from his face. “I’m sorry.” He looks like he’s the one who’s having his heart shredded apart. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. I’m sorry for leading you on. I should’ve told you last night. You are such an attractive woman. You’re beautiful. You’re brilliant and you’re so kind and—”

Oh my God, he’s consoling me now. It’s getting harder and harder not to guffaw at his face. "Ren—"

“—I’m sure there are a lot of guys out there who would love to date you,” Eren says, his eyes drooping in sadness. “And I know this is a selfish thought but I hope we can… still be friends?”

God, you better be grateful I’m Spider-Girl ‘cause this feels like a terrible break-up movie and I’m livid. “We can,” you nod. “But only if you do something for me.”

Eren blinks, his eyes turning hopeful. “Yes, anything. Anything you want, I’ll do it.”

“Okay, then, sit down on the floor.” With a confused frown, he follows without a word. “Lean back.” You give two light taps on the railing of his bed and he rests his backside against it. “Good, now close your eyes. Don’t open them until I say so.”

“Umm… Okay…” 

“Promise me that.”

“I promise.” His furrow turns deeper when he senses you crawling up his bed. You position yourself behind him, lying down on your stomach with your elbows propping the upper part of your body. 

You lean close, whispering breathily in his ear, imitating the words he once said to you on the night he kissed you. “Can I try something I’ve never done before?”

He shivers. The way your voice echoes through his mind sends his mind reeling. “Y-yes…” It sounds more like a question and you almost laugh. He’s beyond nervous. 

Your hand slithers down his cheek before you hook your fingers on the underside of his jaw. You lift his face. His gaze would’ve lingered on the ceiling if he had his eyes opened but Eren keeps them pressed shut. Your touch feels burning on his skin. “W-what are you doing?” he stutters out as you take off his glasses.

“Telling you my biggest secret,” you murmur, leaning closer until you have your face hovering above his. He can almost feel your every word on his skin. “Do you trust me?”

“I—” He noticeably gulps. “I do.”

With an elfin smile, you lower your head. Eren softly gasps when your lips are connected. You’re kissing him upside-down, similar to the kiss he shared with Spider-Girl. You try to replicate the way he kissed you that night, starting out slow, giving him a light, innocent kiss. There’s no pressure on your lips, nothing to distract him away from how soft they feel against his. This is that kiss—your first kiss together.

And Eren remembers it. His body, his lips, his heart remember it.

A few seconds are spent with Eren holding his breath and when you pull away, whispering, “Look at me,” he slowly opens his eyes but they stay half-lidded, completely dazed. 

You stroke his cheek, your smile is an everlasting beauty. 

“I’m in love with you too, Rennie.” 

Your confession certainly comes as a shock, but it’s not as much as the way you called his name. Eren has his heartbeat ringing clamorously in his ears, his eyes widening at the pet name you gave him back when you were nine-year-old. His flashback hits him at once and it strikes him like thunder. He has never told anyone else about the little girl he met in the hospital except for Spider-Girl, and even then, he didn’t tell you that she used to call him Rennie. So how the fuck can you tell? 

Eren turns around, almost knocking his head against the railing as he does. “Wait—” He rises to his feet, both hands stretched out forward. He is mortified beyond belief. So embarrassed, that he wishes he can light himself on fire so he doesn’t have to deal with whatever the fuck that’s going on. This can’t be—she can’t be—

He catches you grinning at him no matter how much you try to hold yourself back. “Calm down, Rennie.”

“No, don’t call—” Oh my God, I can’t breathe—This isn’t happening right now—She—

You’re laughing—great, now you’re laughing—interrupting his thoughts and sending him even further down this endless hole of shame. “So, I’m your first love, huh? Been crushing on me ever since we were nine? Damn, didn’t know you were such a simp for me, Tarantula Boy.”

“No. No, no, no, no, no.” He only has one color on his face: red. “You can’t do this to me—”

“And you jerked off to my pictures?” You playfully scold him, stepping down from the bed and making your way to his spot. “Can’t say I’m pleased with that. Also, I can’t believe you kissed me right after our date ended. Not to mention, I had to save your ass again—”

Fuck, I can’t do this. Eren spins on his heels, literally trying to run away in shame as his brain turns into mush. He has one hand around the doorknob, ready to run and jump off the nearest bridge when you stretch out your arm and shoot out your web. Snaring him by his wrist, you pull him back toward you with a hard yank. With a startled yelp, Eren tumbles back, his body nearly crashes against yours but you catch him just in time. You flick the web off your wrist and tangle your arms around his neck. 

Standing on your toes, you press your body against his, meshing your lips together and laughing against his mouth in response to the muffled sounds of his protest. “Kill me,” he sighs against your mouth, followed by a strangled moan when you part your lips just to close them around his bottom one. “Just kill me now, please.”

“You sure about that?” You tease him, one hand sliding down his chest. “Cause I’d rather do something else if you ask me.” You nip on his lip, not being as gentle as before. 

Groaning in defeat, Eren frames your face with both hands. He decides to take control of the kiss as a way to make you feel just as flustered as he is now. He’s still awkward, his teeth almost knocking against yours but when his tongue slides inside, he manages to steal a gasp out of your mouth. 

You lean your entire weight on him, clawing against his chest as he winds his arm around your waist. “Easy, Tarantula Boy,” you giggle, still sounding mischievous albeit a little breathless.

“You’re evil.” Eren moves his lips to your jaw before he settles his head in the crook of your neck. “I can’t believe you played me like this. Is this the reason why you were being so aggressive today?”

“I’m sorry.” Your small laughter morphs into soft moans as his tongue slithers against yours again. Your fingers slip between his strands, your eyes closed in pleasure as you face the ceiling, giving him more access to nibble on the supple skin of your neck. “I didn’t mean to go this far, actually. I just wanted to tease you a little bit but—” Your sentence ends abruptly in a gasp when he seizes you by your waist and throws you down to the bed. His strength surprises you but the way he handles you so easily, losing almost all the tenderness in his touch, lights your stomach on fire. He crawls on top of you, pinning your hand down against the sheets before he smashes your lips together again. The sudden change in his attitude baffles you but you're quick to display your smirk again. “My, my, look who’s being so aggressive now.”

“Shut up,” he replies, face aflame, robbing you of the ability to speak. Eren kisses you deeply, almost frantically, demanding, plundering your mouth with his own, and you understand why. He doesn’t use his passion to cover his embarrassment, not like what you thought he was doing. He’s kissing you like this, like he owns you and you own him, because he’s been in love with three different people all this time, and all of them are now in his arms, in the shape of you. And, God, you are beautiful.

“Calm down,” you remind him again, sliding your fingers up and down his spine, effectively slowing down his pace. His bun is a mess, his strands falling all over the place, all designed by your eager hands. You play with the baby hair on his nape when he pulls away, your smile is too delicate to be real. “I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to rush.”

His heart hammers inside his chest and it’s beating so fast, it’s frightening, but Eren loves it. He’s always felt this way when he was with you—with any version of you—but now that he knows you’re all of them, his heart beats three times faster. “I don’t think I can do it.” He keeps his face close enough for the tip of your nose to brush against his when he whispers, “I’ve been in love with the same girl for twelve years and now you’re right here and I’m… I’m going insane.”

He’s adorable. So adorable. “Well then, maybe I feel the same way…” You untangle his hair tie with one hand, pushing back his hair behind his ear before you caress his cheek. “‘Cause I’m sure I’ve been in love with the same boy for twelve years too.”

He melts in your arms, weak with the surge of joy that suffuses his body. “It’s hard to believe that you’re Spider-Girl,” he breathes out, resting his temple above yours, closing his lids. He seems so blissful, so relieved at the revelation. “But at the same time, it feels so right. This is the perfect moment of my life, I feel like I’m gonna die.”

“Don’t die just yet,” you titter. “You haven’t loved me enough yet.”

He breaks away with a peal of laughter flowing past his lips. “I’m already going insane because of you and you still want me to love you harder than this?”

“If you can.”

“So demanding.” He jokingly rolls his eyes. “That little boy in the hospital.” He twines his fingers around your wrist, bringing your hand closer to his face. He speaks his next words with his lips brushing against the lines of your palm. “Have you always known it was me?”

“No…” You’re entranced, eyes turning a bit hazy at the way his long eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. He peppers soft kisses on your skin down to the veins that paint your inner wrist. “I only realized it was you when you told me that story.”

“That night on the rooftop?” His pout returns. “You should’ve told me then.”

“Well, yes, but then I wouldn’t get to have this much fun.” You toss him your signature Cheshire Cat grin. Eren throws you a playful snort before he dives back to taste your lips again. “Plus, I was too… embarrassed to say a word back then. I’ve always thought you looked familiar but I had no idea that you were that boy.” You hug him close, breathing right against his ear. “You grew up so handsomely, Rennie….”

He’s buzzing with joy, every part of him is. “You’re really trying to kill me right now, aren’t you?” Eren tickles your side, making you laugh hard enough for his neighbors to hear. He takes in everything, the crinkles in your eyes, the way you have your mouth opened wide, and that adorable laughter you emit–he loves it all. “This is how I always imagined you to look underneath that mask when you laughed,” he confesses, settling himself between your legs. 

You play with his necklace, fingers hooking around his silver chain. “Are you disappointed that I’m not as feminine as I usually behave on campus?”

“Are you kidding? I love you more like this.” Your heart thrashes wildly, no matter how hard you tell it to stay put. Eren props his elbows on the bed, trapping you between his arms. He gently swats the bangs out of your eyes, taking his time to examine your every feature, using the chance to commit every part of you into memory. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on but it’s Spider-Girl whom I’m in love with, and I never cared about her looks. I care about the way she comforts me with her words.” He presses a gentle kiss on the center of your temple, stunning you with intimacy. “I care about the way she cares about me.” He drags his lips to your cheek, lips as light as feathers. “How she gets upset on my behalf when I blame myself for something that isn’t my fault.”

“Yeah, you do that a lot, it’s annoying,” you giggle and you can feel his smile growing on your skin. “What else do you care about?”

“I care about the way she uses sarcasm as her weapon.” His lips are now closing around your earlobe, letting you know the shape of his smirk as he speaks. "And how she gets snarkier when she's embarrassed, not knowing what to do when she receives a compliment."

You flinch, a little bit sensitive in that area. Especially when he sounds breathier like this, huskier as if he just woke up from his dream. “I thought I was irritating.” 

“Sometimes, sure.” But in his next lines, he abandons all the mirth in his voice, and he speaks sincerely from the bottom of his heart. “I'm kidding. I just find you endearing. I care about how you always pretend to be strong when you’re actually scared.” He grants a soft kiss on your nose, breaking away to look you in the eyes as he strokes your hair. “I care about how you seem like you don’t need anybody else in your life, when the truth is, you’re always searching for someone to be there for you. Just like everyone else, you’re scared of being alone.”

Your gaze softens, your stomach somersaulting at his words. “I can never lie to you, can I?” Your voice is not louder than a whisper, your lips only a breath away. “Ever since we were kids, you always knew what to say to me. You understood me more than anyone else.” It’s such a wonderful feeling to be with someone you can truly open yourself to. No secrets. No lies. No sweet nothings. No boundaries. “I wish we had never grown apart during those years. I would’ve loved to spend every moment with you. Growing up together. Being your best friend and making out with you on our school’s rooftop during lunch breaks.” You brush two of your fingertips against his lips, tracing the pretty shape of his mouth as he chuckles. “Maybe I could even give you that radioactive spider that bit me so you could be my sidekick and we could fight crimes together.”

“Your sidekick?”

“It’s kind of a package deal. Plus, I have better social skills. You're not ready to be a superhero, trust me."

"And why not?"

"'Cause even if you were able to kick some ass, you’d never win against your true enemy.”

“Which is?”

“The press. And Tony Stark ‘cause he’d just bully you like crazy without me.”

He just can’t seem to stop grinning when he’s with you. “Well, it’s not too late to start. I'm sure there's some radioactive spiders somewhere.” He gently bites on the tip, rolling your finger between his teeth. “Can you find me a tarantula, though? Spiders are a little bit overrated.”

“Of course, baby. Whatever you want.” 

Eren smiles, bestowing another kiss and letting himself drown in your taste for a minute before he pulls away with a pout. “You said you could never lie to me,” he mutters. “But you’ve been lying to me about your identity for three months.”

“Oh my God,” you groan, throwing your head back. “Stop being so butthurt about it. I said I’m sorry.”

He chortles, gathering your face in his hand again. “You’re so annoying.” He pecks your lips. “But I love you.”

“You’re such an idiot.” You pull him for another kiss, separating your lips to welcome him inside. “But I love you.”

Your kisses seem never-ending, and none of you complains about it. It’s so addicting, so exciting to have his taste lingering in your mouth, to feel the flick of his tongue against yours. Eren may be an inexperienced kisser, but he learns fast. By the time he regains confidence, it’s easy for him to steal your breath away, leaving you all dazed and needy for more.

You have your body squeezed against his, your heels hooked behind his waist, but you’re left feeling unsatisfied as you still have layers of clothing separating your skin from his. “Can I do something I’ve never done before?” you ask him with a cheeky grin.

Eren, who was suckling on your neck a second ago, elevates his face just to give you a flat stare. “Can you stop embarrassing me for one second?” 

“What, I can’t speak English now?”

“You’re using my words!”

“Since when are those words your words—It’s basic English!” Laughing, you roll him to his back, position yourself above his lap and watch him gulp in anticipation. With a naughty smirk, you slip your hand underneath his shirt, your fingers tracing the ridges of his abdomens before you bunch up the fabric in one hand and push it up to his chest. “Wow…” The word accidentally slips out of your mouth as you stare shamelessly at him. “Jesus, when the heck did you work out?”

“S-shut up.” He pushes down his shirt, hiding as much skin as he can from your hungry eyes while blushing like the virgin that he is.

Well, actually, you’re a virgin too, but at least, you act like a pro. ��Why are you covering—let me see your abs!”

“No!”

“Wha—” You’re trying to pry his hands away. He’s pretty strong, and you don’t want to use your superhuman strength to pin him down just so you can marvel at his stomach (you won’t stoop that low).

“Stop trying to undress me, woman!”

You know what, if he keeps fighting you back like this, you might as well tie him up with your web. “Rennie, come on, just give me a peek!” Did you sound desperate? Yes. Are you desperate? Yes, times a thousand. “I’m your girlfriend, you know!”

“You literally just became my girlfriend like seven minutes ago!” He’s struggling just as much, keeping the hem of his shirt as low as possible. “Also, being my girlfriend doesn’t mean you can do whatever you like with my body! Ask me for my consent first!”

You see, he’s right. He’s totally right, but— “Babe, I can literally feel your dick poking against my thigh right now.”

“Y-yeah, but still…” Aaaaand he's blushing. 

“Huh. Cute. Now let’s get back to the game, darling.” You grab the hem of his shirt and— 

“No, wait! I’m not mentally ready and we're—” Eren gasps loudly—almost too dramatically—in both horror and surprise when you shoot two lumps of your web, snaring his wrists and keeping them glued on the bed right on each side of his head. He turns to face you again, his jaw dropping low when he speaks, “Did you just use your web on me?”

You did. Holy shit, you did. What happened to not stooping that low? “I-I’m sorry.”

“Just to see my abs.”

You palm your face, your cheeks blazing hot. “I’ll let you out—”

“You know Peter Parker wouldn’t do this to MJ, right?”

You sigh. You kinda wish you were bitten by a radioactive bunny so you could dig really fast and bury your whole existence inside a hole. “Well, I mean, I wouldn’t know–”

“Steve Rogers would judge you so hard right now.”

“Steve’s actually a kinky bitch. I’m sure he likes it. Look, just calm down,” you tell him, settling yourself on his lap while trying your best to ignore the way his cock is twitching in his pants at the sensation of your weight pressing against him. “I won’t do anything to you without your permission, all right? I'll act like a gentleman. A gentlewoman, if you must.”

“Oh, am I your lady now?”

“You’re acting like one right now, aren’t you?”

“Oh, shut up.” He yanks on his wrist, trying to break free but your web is unyielding. “Can you get this off of me? This looks ridiculous!”

No, it doesn’t. This looks kinky as fuck. Never have you imagined that you’d be using your superhero ability to tie up a handsome man on his own bed, but you learn something new every day, I guess. Trying not to stare so much at the way his biceps are flexing with every attempt he makes, you ask the most important question. “Are you nervous because you’re a virgin?”

“I’m not—” His face catches on fire. “I’m not nervous, I’m just—okay, yeah, I’m nervous.”

“Because you’re a virgin?”

“No,” is his first answer but then bashfully he corrects with, “Well, yeah, kinda. But I’m more nervous about the fact that you’re… not.”

“Not what?”

“A virgin.” He tucks his chin, his voice muted. “I just… I don’t want to disappoint you.” Because Eren knows that you’ve dated several popular guys on campus in the past. Porco Galliard, Colt Grice, even that notorious bad boy, Floch Forster at some point. How can he compete with that? He wants to have sex with you—God, he wants nothing more than to get his dick wet with the girl he’s been in love with for twelve years—but what if you’re not satisfied with him? What if he sucks (no pun intended)? What if he’s supposed to suck but he can’t suck properly? Like sucking on your tits, for example. What if he can’t suck them right? What if—

“I’m a virgin, though,” you say.

“Okay, you can do whatever you want with me. I’m ready.” 

That’s it. That’s all it takes for you to get his consent. The next thing you know, Eren has his shirt bunched up around his chest, your fingers splayed and pressed flat against his stomach. “Damn,” you murmur under your breath, eyes transfixed on the way his muscles tighten underneath your palm. “If I had known you looked like this underneath that hoodie, I wouldn’t have wasted all these months keeping my identity a secret.”

His blush blossoms fast on his face, flinching when he feels your fingertips tracing the dip of his V-line. “I—I thought you were trying to keep your identity a secret to protect me.”

“Well, yeah, that too, but—” You brush your pads against his navel, feeling the little happy trail that disappears behind his jeans. He lets out this little sound, like a mix between a yelp, a whimper, and a moan, and it’s so fucking cute. “I think I’d be okay with you getting kidnapped once a week if I get to do this every day.”

“It feels so weird to have a hot girl talking about me like this, but okay.” Eren, despite how bizarre this conversation is getting, still has his focus on how to break himself free from your webbing. “Can you do something about this, please? It feels sticky on my skin.”

“No.”

“What do you mean 'no?' I can’t touch you if I’m like this!”

“Yes, that is the point, now shut up.” To Eren’s surprise, you casually yank your dress over your head, tossing it haphazardly on the floor and leaving you only in nice lacy lingerie that matches the shade of your lipstick.

“Fuck me,” he mutters under his breath, his gaze quickly shifting down to your chest. He gulps at the sight. “B-badonkers…”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, your tits—your breasts!” He stammers. “They’re—they’re perfect. Like, the shape of them and how they look so… so soft and…” He clears his throat, realizing just how much lame he’s being. “You know, like a really nice pair of natural, fully functional breasts.”

You scrunch up your nose at his words. “Are you going to be like this the whole time?” You reach one hand behind your back, unclasping your bra.

“I… hope not…” He’s staring with unblinking eyes, practically salivating at the sight of your breasts bouncing once as you position yourself better on his lap. Fuck, they really are perfect. “A-are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“You mean sex? No.” You lean forward, crawling up his body until you have your face hovering above his again. “Why?”

“You just seem awfully calm and—” You leave him speechless for a good few seconds when you press your breasts against his chest. Eren whines, closing his eyes as he throws his head against the bed. “Fuck.” 

Your lips twitch up into a smirk. “Soft, aren’t they?”

“Like fucking marshmallows.” He dreamily sighs—almost sobbing, really. “Can I have your tits in my mouth, please?”

Perhaps sometime in the future, when you look back into this scene again, you’ll have the biggest cringe moment in your life because what the fuck is he asking but right now, everything just seems so hot, you don’t even care. “Yeah, but maybe later once I’m done with you.” You reward him with a kiss to distract him, stifling his protest. “To tell you the truth, I’ve gone to second base before but I’ve… never gone past that.”

“Oh… Why not?”

“Just didn’t feel like it was the right thing to do at that time,” you answer with a shrug. “I almost did it with Porco but… It felt like I was missing something so I stopped him at the last minute.”

There’s jealousy burning inside him, but the revelation also provides him some relief. “I see…”

You can sense it, the tiny hint of fury raging in his chest and you nuzzle the tip of your nose against his to soothe him down. “Are you jealous?”

“No.” 

He is. He so is. “Would you like it if I said I was waiting for the right person?” You slide down one finger from the middle of his chest to the dip of his belly button. “Waiting for you?”

“N-no.”

He would. He so would. “You’re cute.”

“Stop calling me cute—ah!” A moan is snatched away from the back of his throat the second you grind your hips against him. Even the slightest friction drives him insane and now he has you rubbing your clothed heat against his bulge. “Fuck, baby, that feels good.”

You recall the way he called you by that pet name on that night you shared your first kiss with him, and as pleasant as it was in your ears, this one feels a million times better. It’s laced with urgency, desperation, and need. “Can I take off your jeans?” You ask him, even when your fingers are already playing with his zipper. 

“Are you going to ask me questions the whole time?”

“You said you wanted me to ask for your consent.”

“Yeah, fuck that. Do whatever you want with me. I’m yours.”

You almost laugh. “Well then, don’t mind if I do,” you say, a moment before your lips meet in a frenzied kiss. Eren arches his back, wanting to close every inch of gap between your skins until he feels like you’re completely plastered against him. He can feel your hand sliding down his stomach, toying with the button of his jeans before you push them down to his mid-thighs, along with his briefs. With a sheepish smile, you maintain eye contact as you curl your fingers gently around his shaft.

“How does it feel, Rennie?” You keep your face close, loving his expression. “Feels good?”

His chest rises and falls with rapid breaths, his face scarlet and erotic. “Feels ama—”

Right at that exact moment, Zeke Jaeger comes bursting inside his room with a phone in his hand, recording everything as he shouts, “AHA! CAUGHT YOU GUYS IN 4K! I knew you wouldn’t be studying–” He freezes at the sight of you stroking his sibling’s cock, your naked breasts practically dangling over his face, and for a second, none of you make a sound.

And then, it’s chaos.

The three of you are screaming at the same time, with you quickly grabbing the nearest pillow to cover your front, completely forgetting to throw a blanket on your poor boyfriend who’s practically buck-naked on his bed. Eren, with his wrists still glued to the sheets, can only spout out incoherent words, while his brother, who’s so horrified at the sight of Eren’s cock, spasming and leaking in desperate need of attention, can only stand still, his brain unable to function. It’s only until Eren screams, “ZEKE, GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM!” that he returns to his senses, whining out, “DINA, MY BROTHER IS FUCKING BEFORE ME!” as he runs back into the kitchen.

You hastily jump down from the bed, shutting the door and locking it up. “Use your web,” Eren says, “He has a spare key. He can still barge in anytime.”

“I think he saw us,” you utter in horror.

“Yeah.” 

“If I drop him off the building and make it look like an accident, do you think you’ll be okay with that?”

“Will I be okay with you killing my brother after seeing your boobs and catching me getting tied up to my bed and being dominated like a fucking masochist by my girlfriend?” Eren watches his cock wilting away. “Yes.”

“Well, not killing. I’m just gonna punch him hard enough to give him like a massive concussion or something.”

“No, no, no. Let’s just stick to murder. I like murder.”

***

AN: Hi, everyone! It took me a while but I finally got to finish this series. I wanted to write a small epilogue that will feature a funny scene where they get to lose their virginity to each other but since I'm pregnant with my second child now, I don't think I'll have the energy/time to do it, I'm sorry 😭😭😭 I hope you enjoyed the story despite how cringe this is (I'm never gonna do comedy again oh god what was I thinking). Anyway, thank you so much for reading! I'll see you next time!

Tagging:

@l6ffys @vivi-et @halparkebitch @fwess @littlemochi @thebeardedmoon @didiyogo @coyloves @erenbean @tehehebri @justasketch @infnteen @naiomiwinchester @spiderlingh @doyochii @ahornyenby @aengelren @sakurashell @princess-okkotsu @resonancesoul @blrqt @cacapeepee @persyhange @jaegersdiary @erentoes @trashygremlin04 @meed18 @j0livi0ni @snowflake-201 @eva-gates @claudevonstrukesblog @sofijaeger @rinsie @blanccofiie @ereninbunu @natanialora @khinjito @jaegeriess @watermelon-online @tropicsoda @damselofblueroses @alexackrman @bblgumz @jurrasicpork @erenjaegercult @holycandypizza

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

I Cherish You, Halcyon Days: prologue.

“You’re gonna die, kid. In the worst way possible.”

tags: afab!reader (she/her), angst, slow burn

pairing: gojou x reader + onesided!getou x reader

summary: You’re 15 years old when you’re told you’re going to die. You’re 17 years old when you realize who your killer will be. And you’re 17 years old when you make peace with the fact you wouldn’t want it any other way.

index | next chapter

In the summer of 1997 when I was 7, I almost drowned at the beach.

It was one of those summers where you watch a movie and things felt whimsical because you watched one movie about a group of kids going on a life-changing adventure you’d never go on yourself. You looked for magic in your daily life because even the smallest thing could be what led to you stumbling upon a new journey. My life-changing adventure movie? Free Willy, the movie about that foster kid and an orca. My aunt, a marine biologist, who showed me the movie always said the ocean was her greatest love. I got what she meant when I saw that movie. So that summer I spent at my aunt’s place in Enoshima was the summer I decided I’d go on some sort of adventure myself.

My expectation? Freeing Mina the beluga whale and swimming on her back to wherever the beluga whales came from. I would have even taken Kukki the dugong who I sometimes fed extra fish to when no one was looking.

What I actually got? Getting caught up in an undertow at Higashihama Beach.

Yeah, not my dream summer experience.

Undertow wasn’t a concept foreign to me at that time. Auntie warned me all about itー about how sometimes the currents below and above the surface went in separate directions.

“Don’t fight it when that happens,” she told me. “You’ll tire yourself out and drown. I know it’ll be scary but if you ever get caught in undertow, don’t fight. Go with the current and once it subsides, that’s when you swim back.”

That advice was far from my mind when I actually got caught in one though.

I screamed and thrashed and fought and fought, I probably pissed in the water twice too to boot.

And yet ー and I’m not entirely sure why ー a calm suddenly fell over me and I remembered Auntie’s words.

It would be scary, but don’t fight it.

Five minutes later, I swam back to shore and cried for ten minutes while my aunt held me.

Scary was one hell of an understatement.

I swore up and down I’d never go to the beach again. I never wanted to feel that scared again, never ever. My aunt didn’t disparage me for it, though. Didn’t tell me to toughen up. She simply took me to get shaved ice when I calmed down; said when you conquer your fear and come out on top, you should always treat yourself to something nice.

“It’s okay to be scared, [First],” she smiled softly. “Some people might say otherwise, but you know something, Auntie doesn’t think fear is a bad thing. Fear can be really good sometimes. Fear is what tells you not to do something that could lead to you getting hurt. It teaches you when not to do something stupid or dangerous. Sometimes, fear is what you should listen to instead of the ‘what if things actually go right’s. Fear only becomes bad when there’s too much of it. When you let being scared rule your life so you don’t live it.

“So it’s okay to be scared. Just promise auntie that you won’t let fear stop you from moving forward. Whether it’s rejection, worries a leap of faith will lead to you falling completely on your ass or that it might not be okay to say something when you know you should.

Live like you feel it and love like you mean it.

Don’t let the fear get to you.”

It took about a week before I was diving right back into the deep blue all over again.

Name: [Full Name] ♀ D/O/B: December 9, 1989 Age: 15

Sorcerer Lineage: Non-sorcerer lineage Enrollment method: Scouted

Recruiter: Yaga Masamichi

Notes: Student was encountered May 5, 2005

Testimony of the recruiter: At the site of Tsubame High School’s test of courage, a second grade curse appeared. [Last] activated her innate technique to protect herself and her fellow students and was able to keep the curse at a standstill until sorcerers arrived on the scene to exorcize the curse. While there were students injured, none of the injuries were fatal mostly due to [Last]’s quick application of her ability. According to the student, she began being able to utilize her innate technique around the age of 10.

Jujutsu

Student’s Innate Technique: Shields

“Rejection” Student’s abilities manifest as her cursed energy condensing into an object that rejects negative events outside of it effectively, creating shields of various sizes. This ability is one that is purely defensive and does not seem to have any offensive capabilities. As it stands, should the student make timely progress during the initial stages of her enrollment during this first year ー  should she not disenroll or meet an untimely end ー it isn’t recommended to give her solo assignments.

Notes: “Rejection” is what the student in question chooses to refer to this ability as.

Interview Question Answer: “Why I want to enroll? Because I’m scared of this curse stuff.”

index | next chapter

[riddles-n-games]

You know what we’ve been really missing out on? A dance headcanon. It may have crossed your mind at some point or you have never thought of it, but trust me you actually have, so here you go and you’re welcome.

We’ve certainly gotten sprinkles (read: karaoke scene, I mean, we were about to get FED and bam Grayson pity party) of such things throughout the series but not in any outright way as is the case with many of the things that could give us more background on the Hawthorne brothers. (Why you holding out on us JLB??? Huh?!) Anyways, here. Read.

Nash-He does line dancing, I mean, you should have seen that one coming. He's basically the country star of his family and he owns it to the fullest; he's literally one of Taylor Swift's back up dancers for goodness' sake. Nash's favorite version of line dance is square dancing and being the sweetheart he is, he will go to retirement homes on dance nights and be one of the choreographers or partners to help the old folks who want to dance. Of course, when there's a festival, that's when he really gets down. But, this might surprise you; he's also had a stint with hip hop and he's pretty darn good at it. He can do the dougie for sure. In fact, he got so good at hip hop that he also started adding his own style to it and gave it his country flare at freestyle competitions (Jamie and Xander's minds were blown, at first, before the big brother cool wore off that is but they were still impressed🤭).

Grayson-All of them learned how to do ballroom dancing (mainly waltz) but someone had to be the best of them, too. Enter Grayson Hawthorne. He is certainly the go-to brother for these types of dances but he excels at tango and waltz which also give him his greatest enjoyment. Certainly, at school events, he was always sought after during the slow songs and was always leading man for the school's ballroom team. It was the one chance the ladies were allowed to swoon without a certain redhead ruining everything. Though he competed nationally and worldwide, he preferred the simple entry level competitions for the sake of the peace. It was also more fun. He also challenged himself by learning flamenco and he was enamored by it, loving the fast steps and quick changes from one thing to another. However, his grandfather wanted him to push it further since he was already pursuing the dance so he wanted him to do competitions and as much as he put his heart and soul into it, Gray hated doing competitions when he wanted to do this for fun. After his grandfather died, he quit comps and stopped dancing flamenco for a while but his brothers (read: Xander) have been encouraging him to take it up again as a fun hobby. He's been warming up to the idea.

Jameson-Should it really come as a surprise that this boy can tap dance? Because, yes, he can and he is damn proud of it. It’s a favorite party trick of his to pull on the dance floor or in the middle of the club and he’s always tearing it up. He also loves Irish stepdance and after watching the famous Riverdance live, Jameson was obsessed. That was how he and Xander ended up being trained by the very Riverdance company itself and they trained for two years until Xan no longer expressed interest but Jamie got good enough that he even went on tour with them. Also, he's been expanding his repertoire with street dancing, mambo, and most recently disco due to a certain someone's obsession with the 70s.

Xander-Despite Gray being the undisputed king of ballroom in the family, his youngest brother still takes to the swing better than anyone. He has been the most enthusiastic about it and loves the energy which matches him well in every aspect of the dance. Unlike his brother, competing never really bothered him and this is actually one of the things that he gets him into a perfectionist complex. He was a junior world champ on two occasions and now is teaching Max how to do it. On the more casual side of casual side of things, he also knows how to shag which is one of his favorite things to do on little dates with Maxine when they aren't going anywhere. And, of course, being the most sporadic of his brothers, Xander always shocks people when he tells them he also has done ballet. He never got to become a principal dancer as a junior dancer but he did get to do a few pas de deux and was a soloist when he was with the Texas Ballet Theater. His favorite ballets are The Nutcracker and Don Quixote; he appreciates Swan Lake but hates the unhappy versions.

[mendessi]

dreamland | j.m

pairing: pre+post-outbreak!jolemiller x fem!reader summary: you're dog sitting for your aunt for a couple of weeks who happens to live across the street from a handsome man and his daughter warnings: reader is 24 & joel is 34, slow burn-ish, ill post more as i think, this first chapter is tame,dad!joel, let me know at any time if you think of any, word count: 4k a/n: this will be multiple parts following reader and joel's relationship from pre to post outbreak one | two | three | ... MINORS DNI

june 2002

Summer was always your favorite season. While many made a fuss of the Texas heat, it was something you didn't mind. Summer meant barbecues and days at the lake, spending time with your dad and sister.

"Your Aunt Delilah is going to Europe for the month of June and wants to know if you'd be able to dog sit for her." He asked you one day after hanging up the phone with his sister.

"Pickle would come here or I would go to Austin?" You perked up on the couch. There was no city in Texas that you loved more than Austin, especially when you got to stay in your aunt's cozy home. The city was vibrant and full of life. It's why you chose to go to school there in the first place. Yeah, yeah, the biochem degree you were after was well worth it too. Despite your aunt living there, you'd find any reason to go back to Austin whether school was in session or not.

"You'd go to Pickle." He said. "Her regular sitter is out of town too, so she'd figured you might wanna go."

"She'd figure right." You said standing up from your hole in the couch that had been home for the past several hours. It was a surprise you hadn't molded into it.

"You'd head down Friday, if that's alright with you." He told you and you gave him a thumbs up as you trekked up the stairs. "I'll let her know!"

Thank god you had barely unpacked after returning home from college even though it had been a couple of weeks since you got home. You were still trying to process that this was the last time you'd be coming home from college since you had just graduated. Procrastinating was one thing you were great at that's for sure. The idea of going back to Austin for a month was exciting because again, you loved the city. Visiting your aunt during the summers and for holidays as a kid is what made you fall in love with the city in the first place. Your fate was sealed after your dad and aunt took you to a UT vs A&M game when you were eight years old. Going to games at least once a year with the both of them and your sister had become a tradition of sorts and even more so once you were accepted to attend. Now that you lived there, going to games was a common occasion and your dad would join you on the weekends he was off.

When Friday rolled around you said goodbye to your dad and sister even though they agreed they'd come down to Austin in a couple of weeks to go the lake. The drive was only three hours and it was one you were used to making during the holidays and some weekends to visit home.

Pickle was a golden retriever that despite his old age still had a lot of energy. You had been the one to name Pickle when you were thirteen years old because you had been there when your aunt picked him from the shelter. Pickle was only a puppy that had been dumped on the side of the road and now he was a chubby ten year old boy that somehow still had the same energy as when he was small. He greeted you by clumsily running down the steps as fast as his old bones would let him and wiggled his butt as you bent down to pet him. This dog was your most favorite part about visiting your aunt's.

"You are a literal life saver." Delilah was not far behind Pickle as she engulfed you into a hug.

"Anything for my favorite aunt." You replied, smiling as she squeezed you a bit tighter.

"I'm your only aunt." Delilah may as well have been your mother. She was the only maternal figure you had in your life despite her not having any kids of your own. She was the epitome of "hot, fun aunt you only see at Christmas" but she was almost as present as your own father was. She kind of made you want to be the hot, fun aunt you only see at Christmas to your sister's future kids.

You spent the evening helping your aunt with some last minute packing and then spent dinner over her living room coffee table with a plethora of food from your favorite Asian spot in town.

"I wish I could come with. Texas is so boring." You sighed leaning against the couch, glancing over at the TV that neither of you were paying attention to.

"You love it here." She nudged your shoulder.

"I love it here when my aunt is here and my friends from college didn't all leave after graduation." God you had never felt so full in your life. You definitely had eaten too much but it wasn't something you'd regret in the slightest.

"You'll be just fine." Her hand cupped your face and you leaned into her touch.

The next morning you dropped her off at the airport and then went back home to take a short nap. When you woke up you decided that it was a beautiful, hot day outside and a day at the lake with Pickle sounded nice. It was likely many of your days in Austin would be spent with Pickle by some sort of body of water.

You laughed for a moment at his name, wondering what in the world prompted you as a twelve year old to name this sweet dog Pickle and why in the world Delilah allowed it.

"Should we go down to the lake, buddy?" Rubbing behind his ears, you helped the fat dog step into his harness. After packing your bag with a towel, sunblock and some snacks and water for both you and him, you pulled the front door open.

Pickle was a well trained dog and pretty much never left the yard when the front door was open. But something sparked his interest and he took off running down the front porch steps and across the yard. Dropping everything you held in your hands, you took off running after him, calling his name.

You probably looked like a fucking idiot yelling "Pickle! Pickle, here!" over and over again.

He lead you across the street to the house that used to belong to an elderly couple that Pickle loved because of the obnoxious amount of treats they used to feed him. The elderly couple wasn't there and instead a moving truck was backed into the driveway, a young girl kicking a soccer ball around front.

"Sarah, get up there and start unpacking your room." A man came out of the front door and stumbled backwards as Pickle jumped up onto him.

"Pickle, down!" Your jaw dropped as you finally reached the dog, grabbing a hold of his leash. "I am so sorry!"

"What a pretty dog!" The young girl approached Pickle who was eager for her attention and jumped up to meet her with kisses all over her face.

"I'm so sorry." You said again, pulling Pickle away from the girl but she stepped towards him again.

"Pickle is such a good name for a dog." She laughed.

You finally met the eyes of the girl's father and your breath nearly hitched in your throat at the stunning man standing in front of you. He didn't seem angry at all, just a smile on his face as he watched his daughter interact with the golden fluff ball in front of her.

"Sorry." You said again, this time a little breathless, nerves flooding your body.

Boys hardly made you nervous, in fact all of your friends praised how you were able to flirt with them. But standing in front of you was a man, a very attractive man that scanned your body up and down once over.

You immediately felt embarrassed remembering how you had just ran across the street screaming something about a Pickle and how you were only wearing your jean shorts and a bikini top.

"No, it's no worries at all. He's a friendly pup." He said, looking at his daughter again who was now sitting on the ground with Pickle who was on his back in front of her getting the best belly rubs of his life probably.

"The family that used to live here spoiled him. I didn't realize they sold the house." But boy were you glad they did.

"I'm Joel and this is Sarah. My brother Tommy is inside. Sarah and I are moving in." He held his hand out and you shook it happily, his firm grasp taking you not by surprise. You expected it from a man that looked as strong as he did. "This you across the street?"

"No, actually, it's my aunt's. I'm just dog sitting for the month." You told him. "It's nice to meet you both."

"Well if you, as a dog sitter, ever need someone to dog sit, I will gladly do it." Sarah laughed as she stood up from the grass and began running around the yard with Pickle.

"I'll take you up on the offer. We're actually going down to the lake today." You gave her a smile. "But, if you guys need a hand unloading, I can help?"

"Oh, we have it handled, thanks though." He glanced behind him and then at his daughter before he lowered his voice enough for her not to hear, "I hope to see you around."

Trying not to let your cheeks flush, a small smile crept onto your face. "Likewise."

The next few days you spent at the living room window, watching for Joel to come out of his house. He worked a normal schedule for the most part, but it looked more like he had taken a couple more days off during the week with Sarah on summer break.

You were out in the front yard the following weekend after meeting Joel and Sarah and playing a makeshift game of fetch with Pickle. He hardly liked to chase the ball anymore because of his age so the game was to throw the ball straight into the air and let him try to catch it as it bounced off the ground.

"Hey!" Sarah called your name as she ran across the street with her soccer ball in her hands. "Can I play with you guys?"

"Yeah, absolutely." Sarah tossed the soccer ball onto the ground and began kicking it around the yard between you and Pickle. He probably liked the fact that the soccer ball was bigger and easier for him to play with.

"He's so cute. I keep asking my dad for a dog but he says I'm not responsible enough yet." Sarah said as Pickle kept knocking the ball further and further away from himself and you and Sarah.

"You look pretty responsible to me. How old are you?" You asked her.

"Twelve." She answered you.

"Oh, you're totally responsible enough." You reassured her. "We can just share Pickle in the meantime."

"Did you name him Pickle?" She asked you.

"I did name Pickle." You replied. "It's a goofy name, huh?"

"Just a little. But I think it suits him." She laughed.

"Hey, she bothering you?" Joel was crossing the street and you barely caught yourself pushing your hair off your shoulder. He had Sarah's soccer ball in his hands and Pickle was prancing at his side. He must've knocked the ball into the street as Joel was coming out of the house. Normally you'd be more strict about him going into the street but it was the weekend in summer which meant the cul de sac in which you lived was quiet, hardly anyone coming on and off the street.

"No, we're actually talking about how you guys should also get a dog. You know, Pickle could use a friend." You took the soccer ball from his hands, your fingertips brushing his, your eyes never leaving each other's.

"Nice try." A smile tugged at his lips as he turned to Sarah. "We're not getting a dog."

"Lame."

"C'mon, I need your help with dinner. Uncle Tommy is on his way." Joel said.

"Aw, dad, I wanna hang out with Pickle some more." She huffed as any twelve year old would and it kind of reminded you of yourself.

"Well, maybe, uh... Pickle could join us for dinner? If you don't have any plans." Joel asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"No, no, we're free. If it's not too much trouble." You said. "I can help too."

Sarah didn't end up helping after all, because she was too preoccupied with her new best friend in the backyard so you found yourself standing next to Joel helping him prepare a bowl of mashed potatoes.

"Look, let me show you a trick my dad taught me." You said as you pulled the melted butter from the microwave. He watched you intently as you explained that folding the butter in slowly prevented gluey mashed potatoes rather than pouring it all in at once. "Also, next time I'll show you how to make from scratch. No more boxed mashed potatoes."

"I'd like that." He said. He didn't want to tell you that he in fact knew how to make mashed potatoes from scratch or that he made the best mashed potatoes from scratch. That he was better at making mashed potatoes from scratch than from a box but the box is what he had in the pantry because he forgot to go shopping.

He just needed another excuse to have you over. To have your sweet voice filling his ears about things he already knew. To listen to the way you gently interacted with his daughter like you knew her for her entire life. To listen to you call that damn dog Pickle over and over again no matter how silly it sounded.

"When did we get a damn dog?" Tommy walked into the kitchen carrying a case of beer and a watermelon in his hands. "Hey, there."

"That would be Pickle." Joel said and you almost snickered at how it sounded coming from his lips.

"I'm Tommy." Joel's brother introduced himself to you and you to him after the short explanation of why you were there for dinner. Joel silently cursed his brother for showing up even though this was the plan prior to your invitation. He simply enjoyed the time that you two had alone in the kitchen preparing dinner.

Tommy was handsome of course, just like his brother but Joel took the lead by a long shot. Guys your age were just alright but Joel was giving you feelings none of them ever could. Maybe it was the fact that he had probably about ten years on you, or the way that he never broke eye contact ever. You almost wanted to believe he was just trying to intimidate you, but he just wanted you to know that as long as you were present in front of him, his attention was yours.

Joel felt foolish to say the least. Crushing on the neighbor's niece when she'd be gone in a month was insanity. The man had barely even looked at another woman since Sarah's mother left. But here you were in front of him and he couldn't stop staring at every inch of you. You were absolutely stunning and he couldn't grasp the fact that you were standing in his kitchen on a Saturday evening helping him with dinner.

He could tell that Tommy was slowly taking a liking to you, watching the way his brothers eyes squinted when he smiled at anything you said, one of his old tricks that Joel had in fact taught him. Something so simple, but just made a woman feel like you were so much more invested in whatever they were saying. It was hard to read whether you were picking up on it, but all he could do was hope you weren't falling for his antics.

"Are you from Austin?" Sarah asked. Pickle was laying under her feet just hoping she would drop something but to his advantage, she was already sneaking him bites throughout the entire dinner without anyone noticing.

"I actually live in Dallas, but I've lived here for the most part since I was eighteen." You answered her.

"Oh, so you're in college." Tommy said glancing at his older brother. There was an inkling that if you were still in college Joel would fuck off and let his brother have a chance.

"I actually just graduated from UT. I have a bachelor's in biochemistry." You replied catching the glance, but you didn't make any note of it.

"Shit, so she's a genius." Tommy gaped. "Congratulations."

"That's impressive." Joel said to you and you gave him a small smile of appreciation, the words making your stomach flutter.

"Dad, I want to go to UT and get a degree in biochemistry too." Sarah said and you almost blushed at her words. Compliments from kids always felt slightly more important because they knew almost nothing of the world and had no filter, so if they complimented you it must be true.

"You can do whatever you put your heart to, kiddo." Joel said to her.

The four of you sat around the table and you explained to them how Pickle had come into your lives, how your dad used to bring you here to visit your aunt and what going to UT was like. They all were interested in hearing what attending one of the most popular schools in Texas especially because every once in a while they too liked attending a UT game or two. Joel of course soaked up every word, thankful he hadn't met you until now because if he had during your college days he would've not let himself have a single thought in that way about you.

But he didn't. So here he was, studying each feature on your face as you talked. From your jaw down to the curve of your neck where your collarbone met your shoulder, what it might feel like to sink his teeth into the skin there-

He was pulled from his thoughts as you and Sarah rose from the table gathering everyone's dishes. "You don't have to."

"I want to, Joel. No worries." You squeezed his shoulder in a reassuring manner that made his stomach flutter. Sarah was eager to follow in your footsteps, the two of you putting the leftovers away and handwashing the rest of the dishes. Joel and Tommy sat watching the two of you engaging in their in own conversation.

"You win, big brother." He muttered taking a sip from his beer.

"What's that s'posed to mean?" Joel asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Look at you, you're smitten. You've known her all of what? Two minutes? She barely gave me the time of day." Tommy sighed. "It's nice seeing you have a little crush since Sarah's mom left."

"I don't have a crush." Joel quickly shut his statement down. He could try to lie to himself but he knew it was true. "This ain't high school."

"I'm just saying. See where it goes." Tommy patted his big brother's shoulder.

Joel took another deep breath that came out as more of a sigh. "And if she's not...?"

"Move on. There's other fish in the sea." Tommy stood from his seat at the table. "Who wants ice cream?"

The gasp that left Sarah's lips was comical and you couldn't help but laugh at her reaction, "Dad, can we please?"

"Alright, alright." Joel laughed and your eyes met his for a moment. You looked away quickly, turning your attention back to Sarah. Eye contact was one of your specialties, something your dad taught you was important when you were a little girl, except when it came to Joel Miller apparently.

"I'm actually going to head home. Dinner was great though, thank you." You replied. As much as you wanted to join them for ice cream you didn't want to overstay your welcome.

"What? So soon?" Joel asked as if you hadn't spent the entire evening with him and his family. He wanted to punch himself for accidentally sounding so eager.

"Yeah, I'm still full from dinner so I'll pass on the ice cream and Pickle-"

"Maybe Pickle wants ice cream." Sarah interjected.

"Pickle looks like he wants some ice cream." Tommy added. "Just come along for the ride at least."

"Please please please." Sarah folded her hands as she stood in front of you staring up at you with pleading puppy dog eyes that you just couldn't say no to.

"Fine." You smiled and she squealed from happiness grabbing Pickle's leash from your hands.

"She really likes you." Joel laughed as the four of you walked out to Tommy's truck. You squeezed in the backseat with Sarah and Pickle and then Tommy drove you all to the ice cream shop up the road that was a fan favorite of everyone in the neighborhood.

Everyone got their favorite flavors and you even bought a little pup cup for the chubby boy that looked like he had already had twenty. Sarah had spoiled him at the dinner table and now here he was getting his own little ice cream.

You and Joel sat on the same side of the table across from Tommy and Sarah as you fed Pickle his ice cream slowly so he wouldn't inhale the entire thing. Just like you said earlier, you passed on getting your own cone because you did feel a little full from dinner still.

You almost sighed looking at Joel's ice cream and how good it looked, mindfully wishing you had gotten your own. Maybe your aunt had some stashed away in the freezer at home.

"Want a bite?" Joel asked catching your eyes lingering on his strawberry ice cream. Before you could object he scooped a spoonful and held it towards you. You rolled your eyes but opened your mouth anyways letting him feed you the ice cream. It hit you that the two of you were sitting quite close. Your knees were touching and you were shoulder to shoulder.

Neither Sarah nor Tommy noticed the tender moment, them being engaged in their own conversation about which ice cream flavor was better.

When you arrived back at the house, you waved Tommy and Sarah goodnight and Joel held Pickle's leash in his hand as he walked you back across the street to your front door.

Your fingertips brushed once again as he passed Pickle's leash back over to you. He leaned against the doorframe as he watched you open it and send Pickle inside.

"Thank you for having me. It's been a lonely week." You admit to him.

"Anytime." Joel replied. Not a man of many words it seems.

"Well, I'll see you around." You tell him, trying to avoid an awkward silence.

For the first time in a while, Joel was at loss for words. He wanted to compliment you, ask you out on a proper date maybe, but he choked. The idea of you turning him down, someone who you might think is a little too old for you made him anxious. He had barely just moved in a week ago and was already thinking of asking you out.

"Listen, uh, thanks for hanging out with Sarah today. She really enjoys your company, I can tell. Never seen the girl more excited to do dishes." He said before you could step inside.

"She's a good kid, Joel. You should be proud." You offer him a smile.

"Thanks." The smile that spread across his face was genuine. Nothing warmed his heart more than someone complimenting his parenting. It was rough on his own, but he did a damn good job if he says so himself.

"See you." You stood on your tiptoes in the spur of the moment and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. You're not sure why you did it or where the courage to do it even came from but you shut the door behind you before you could hear or see his reaction.

Joel cheesed like a kid in a candy story walking back to his new home across the street.

"You're certainly fucked that's for sure." Tommy laughed as he watched Joel walk up the porch steps, having just watched the entire encounter between you two. "Smitten little boy."

"Shut up." Joel shoved Tommy's shoulder, but he didn't even mind the teasing because he was right.

PREV|NEXT

[spotsandsocks]

🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Hello my dear thanks for inspiring me, this is a lot of sentences and things may change but here we go…

🧜‍♂️ merman pirate au (the other one under cut) tagging those who also chose at least one of these @tizniz @jesuisici33 @eddiebabygirldiaz @dangerpronebuddie @sunflowerwemadeit also @dr-shortsighted-owl cos I think the mer title prompt was yours ‘time and tide’

Rules are not for him. Not anymore.

There’s nothing of him visible apart from the bridge of his nose, his eyes, the wet curls on his head.

The effect of him is more visible, but isn’t that always the way with him; the ripples on the surface of the ocean circle outwards from his body, caused by the slow but powerful movement of the muscles in his tail as it moves in circles. It’s a good tail, strong, powerful. Usually it keeps him moving, moving further and further away from there which is the best decision he ever made. Today it’s keeping him in one spot because he likes the view.

The ripples are a tiny risk, they wouldn’t even be visible if the sea wasn’t so calm and still today, but it is.

It doesn’t matter, there’s no one to see any part of him anyway. Unless of course there’s someone in the house that nestled on the side of the cliff top. Someone in that small, warm looking building, looking out in exactly the right direction at exact the right moment to see something small and inconsequential bobbing around in the middle of the sea, almost impossible to spot but there all the same.

Buck sometimes wonders if he wants to be spotted. Is that why he keeps coming back to this particular cove? He tells himself it’s because he likes the fresh air on his face, the wind in his hair. He tells himself he just likes the view. The cliffs are tall and majestic, they call to him, bobbing just under the waterline Buck wonders what it would be like to climb them. Maybe one day he might try. He’d like to look in the window of that house one day, see who lives there. One day, not today though. Not today. The eyes and the curls vanish, leaving only ripples behind and then not even them anymore.

*

The ripples are back. Eddie watches from the window. He’s seen them before, only on calm days like this it’s true but he thinks that maybe whatever causes them is there on stormy days too. He hopes so. Once he thinks he saw something more than ripples, a splash, a flash of blue, the light catching on something that shimmered. It must have been made by something large. Larger than a fish, maybe a seal, maybe a shark. Ta

😈 demon!Prince Eddie

He’s been petitioning for an early intervention programme up top. Try and improve things before it was too late, helping before the rot sunk in too deep. Try and do some good. The pilot project he wanted got approved a few centuries ago. He’d been allowed to visit an author in the early 19th century, England he thinks it was, he’d given him an idea for a book. Ghosts and the similar, a cautionary tale about hoarding wealth and miserly habits. He’d had high hopes for it. He’s heard It’s still quite popular, gets talked about in schools and then swiftly forgotten once people start earning money. Shame, but still there’s always hope, even after all this time. Who knows maybe he’ll get the approval to take it into the next stage at some point but he’s still waiting for approval to get through the right departments. Bureaucracy is something down here and up there have in common.

Feels like he’s been waiting forever. Maybe he has, but recently he’s been feeling it more. There’s a restlessness inside him and it’s growing. The last few days have been particularly peculiar, it’s like he’s forgotten something or lost it. He keeps looking over his shoulder expecting to see someone watching him. There’s never anyone there. Except that’s not quite true, once he thought he saw a figure, shimmering at the edge of his vision. He’d talked to Lena about it, thought maybe she’d sent one of the subdemons to keep an eye on him. She scowled back at him and said she was worried about him but not worried enough to waste a spy. He’d believed her, and he’d noted that she now looked even more worried than she had at the start of conversations. Admitting to seeing things that aren’t there is never a particularly comforting thing to hear, especially in Hell, where the line between bad and worse things is thin.

He’d claimed that he was probably just tired. There’d been an influx of ‘guests’ to his department recently, a super yacht had sunk in a (possibly) freak storm. After that a private jet had crashed, the pilot survived but the multi mega millionaire using the jet to pop back home for a party (a round trip of 70k ) had not. Before that some submarine had imploded. Weird times.

He keeps meaning to go check with the weather team. Apparently they have two new member of staff, in the natural disasters department. One of them appears to be called Chimney but Eddie’s not at all sure that can be right.

[driftward]

Title: FFXIV Write 2024 - 13. Butte Characters: Solita Grey, Thancred Waters Rating: Teen Summary: Naturalists, man. What a pain in the- Notes: Weird Wild West AU - A Desertwalkers story

The Cat's Eye Cabaret was the center of cultured entertainment in Stonewood, attracting would-be stakeholders, investors, up and comers, and all manner of classy individual hoping to make their mark at the beginning of a new era.

Solita had no such lofty goals herself, but there was good coin to be made in catering to the tastes of those who did. And being known as a cultured consultant and companion herself put her in a good position to overhear rumours, gather information, and be at the forefront of certain types of troubles before they became problems. Her sharp wit, keen intelligence, and clever tongue were well known and well sought after.

Tonight was no different. She was idling on the edge of the cabaret, keeping an eye on her current client who seemed intent to ply the barkeep's wares into nonexistence. She was weighing the benefits of interceding against the value of letting them learn a lesson when a man slid out of the shadows and gently hooked his arm around her elbow.

"I am glad I thought to check. I thought your dance card would be full, but it would seem you've a moment. May I?"

"Thancred," she said, with a smile, grateful for the interruption in her musings. "Please and kindly. I am rather afraid my current client is proving a bit of a boor."

Thancred began to lead them towards a table, where they took their seats. "Oh, is she? All the better to nudge her during those negotiations tomorrow, I would think."

Solita rested her head in her hands, looking at Thancred over the elegant candle centerpiece. "I would prefer her sober for such, that I may be more certain my advice might -land- rather than be addled by her impairment. And I had rather hoped for some entertainment this evening, but I believe I shall be left to my own self, and her to her inebriation."

"Our dear lady Grey, has she perhaps judged poorly?"

"I do make mistakes, Thancred," she said, grimacing. "There is no fault in admitting so, and she may very well be one. Just as well. She is a touch handsier than I care for, and slow to be dissuaded from such."

"And those business developments she wishes to forward?"

"Harmless, upon consultation. She would prefer trade with the local Hhetsaro, rather than attempt to establish her own concerns."

"Ah, well, that does make our job easier, doesn't it? Hardly need to get involved."

Solita nodded, retrieving a flute of wine from a passing server.

"And how are matters between you and the school mistress? To hear Ryne tell the tale, you two are getting along rather well."

Thancred rubbed the back of his head. "Ask me later. I was hoping to speak to you more on the subject of troublesome clients. Specifically, where is our naturalist just now? Off on her second survey yet?"

Solita harrumphed, sipping her wine. "Indeed. She is down by the southern buttes, gathering... Weave readings, apparently."

"That's a fairly magically active place," said Thancred. He leaned forward, looking at Solita carefully. "Your sight would have been helpful there, whatever her task. She is still one of your clients, yes?"

"She is," said Solita, primly. "However, she did not ask for anything other than information, so I offered naught more than that."

Thancred looked at her flatly for a moment, then shrugged.

"Might be just as well. I ask because I looked into her, just as you requested."

"And what, pray tell, did you discover?"

"Zoissette Vauban," said Thancred, allowing for an unnecessarily dramatic pause, "does not exist."

Solita's ears went up just a bit, and she set down her wine.

"Well, do not leave me in suspense. Go on."

Thancred settled back into his seat, turning his gaze to the dancers filing onto the cabaret stage, though he was not watching them, not really. "Near as anyone can tell, she arrived from over the ocean - with the cargo. Registered under the Gorgagne Trade Company, which tells us nothing of use, as they provide shipping for a number of concerns. Most notably Kraken Arms, but they also do work for a variety of industrial concerns from out that way."

Solita frowned. "Former sailor escaping their past, mayhaps?"

Thancred shook his head. "The way she carries herself? Unlikely. I believe her to be of the gentry. Which, to be honest, to be a successful naturalist she almost needs to be, or to be sponsored. But my contacts overseas could find no note of anyone with her name in any journals. In fact, outside of her contributions to our own local library, I'm not at all convinced she's published at all."

"That says little," said Solita, idly. "I often do not bother myself to submit mine own findings."

"A terrible oversight I sorely wish you'd stop allowing yourself to indulge in. But nevermind that."

"So, unpublished. You said you thought she was of a high social class, however?"

"Likely. But none of the families over there boast the name Vauban amongst their number... other than a very old, very small family far in Gridania."

"Might this be another Aurelia sort of situation? I recall she also claimed to be a naturalist, only for us to find out her brother Alistair was the actual naturalist, and she was more of a ... venture opportunist."

"I doubt it there is any connection whatsoever. Vauban is an older family which has no eligible children as of now. Just an old patriarch who apparently is more than happy to act as a kindly historian, recounting his ancestor's role from the time of the Autumn War. So, historically significant name... but not currently."

"So a name borrowed, then. Perhaps for ill? Might it be worth looking into seeing if anyone is attempting to gain profit from such deception."

"No profit to be gained. Again, the name is only of historical interest, and the old man, from what my latest message tells me, lives in comfort, but not in great wealth."

"So that leaves us where we started," said Solita, thoughtfully. "A woman with no history and a name that seems at best to only borrowed." She crossed her arms, and sat back.

Thancred turned his attention to her, and watched her carefully.

"You yourself mentioned her first survey was of little interest. Simply doing exactly as she claimed - learning local knowledge, tall tales and facts alike, and verifying the veracity or lack thereof of such." He shrugged. "You might continue to keep an eye on her if you like, but other than her charming habit of stabbing the occasional blundering idiot who fails to heed her warnings when she tries to warn them off, she seems almost endearingly, eccentrically harmless."

"So did that Hemet fool, until he disrupted the Rroneek migration and got gored for his trouble," groused Solita.

"Ah, but I believe we all saw that little misadventure coming. And he was no client of yours, so you have no claim to blame, if that's what you're concerned about."

"You well know I am not. My clients heed my advice or not, and that reflects upon their judgement, not mine."

"Still affects your reputation."

"My reputation for honesty exceeds all."

"And for bluntness."

She glared at him, her ears going back just a little. "Is this conversation to be a criticism of how I handle my affairs, then?"

Thancred held his hands up slowly with a grin. "No, no. Just making conversation. I'd like to go to bed with my tatters unsinged, if it's all the same to you."

Solita shifted her weight and took a sip of her wine, her eyes narrow and ears back, but only for a few moments longer before she settled, apparently deciding to let the matter go.

"Well, I thank you for looking into the matter," she said.

"My pleasure."

The two watched the activity of the Cat's Eye, a companionable silence between them as the cabaret continued about its business.

"Well, I suppose I am obligated to child sit for a while longer, then," Solita said at last, beginning to stand.

"Are you referring to your current client, who I believe I see currently trying to balance the floor, or our eccentric enigmatic errant errand woman?"

Solita rolled her eyes at his wordplay. "Good night, Thancred."

"Have fun," he said cheerfully as she wandered off. He watched as Solita approached the well-to-do debutante, and began to try to steer her away from the bartender. Even at this distance, he could see the annoyance in her expression and in her bearing, ears back and tail thrashing something terrible.

In the meanwhile, he considered the naturalist once more. It had been some time since one of her clients had taken up so much of her attention.

He took her abandoned wine and thoughtfully took a sip. Perhaps he should head out to the southern buttes, and take the measure of this naturalist himself.

[xx-lemon-drop-xx]

𝓕𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓜𝓮 𝓝𝓸𝓽 ↬𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊

"Sleep. For in a thousand years I will love you all the same."

1,163 words.

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

"That's impossible."

(Y/n) concluded, peering down at the name- her Fathers name, in the textbook. "It has to be some sort of coincidence. I've never been here before-"

"You might not have been but.. You know how you came here?" Ace started, Grim looking up at everyone, before stealing her yogurt. (Y/n) didn't try to stop him this time. Her appetite was gone.

"Yeah. I woke up in one of the coffin things with Grim."

She said, Ace nodded, "Well, what if there's a way to leave Twisted Wonderland for another world or realm. Whatever we want to call it. You managed to come here, which means-"

"There has to be a way to get back out." (Y/n) finished for him, in which Ace nodded. (Y/n) looked back down at the textbook, reading the line again.

Beloved Soldier Goes Missing

In 1871 Derek (L/n) was one of the many soldiers to fight and survive in the Great war of 1971. Thirty years later, he and his daughter go missing in an unexplainable phenomenon.

"He fought in that Fae war..?" (Y/n) started to flip through the textbook, coming to a familiar page- Lilia picture. "Lilia was a general. If I want answers I need to go to him."

Grabbing a pen (Y/n) scribbled down the page number on her hand before snapping the textbook shut and standing up from her seat, making her trio of friends look up at her.

"I'm borrowing this," She stated, "I'll bring it back." Without letting Deuce talk she turned and ran off, towards Diasomnia. Grim looked at her left-behind plate and shrugged, grabbing it.

"More for me."

-

The doors to Diasomnia swung open with a loud bang, making the students jump and look over. Sebek scowled, about to snap at (Y/n) before she held up a hand and walked by, making him shut up. She immediately went to Lilia, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him away.

"I need to talk to you."

The elder Fae let her drag him along to a more secluded spot of Diasmonia before sitting down at a table and flopping the book in front of him. He blinked, in silent surprise before sitting down as well as she flipped through pages before stopping and pointing at a name.

"Do you know him?" (Y/n) demanded in a way, a bit of anxiety running in her voice as Lilia looked over the page before slowly shaking his head.

"No, I don't. Why-"

"Because he's my father."

(Y/n) blurted, taking Lilia aback. He looked back at the textbook again and then back at her. "You're sure?"

"Yes. That's him. Maybe it's all some type of coincidence but why would he have my father's exact same name? But he wouldn't have been alive for that long unless he was-"

"Fae."

Lilia finished off the sentence for her, before standing up. "There were many soldiers in that war- I'm sorry, but he wasn't one that I commanded over. I'm afraid I've only briefly heard of him when he went missing."

He stated, (Y/n) looked up at him, seeming to have hit a dead end. Lilia offered her a hand, and she took it, standing up herself. "I'm so confused."

"I bet you are. Come on, let me go get us some juice and we can see what we can find in the library. I'll help you out the best I can with this little mystery."

(Y/n) nodded, thankfully, before following after the Fae, taking slow breaths to calm herself. The trip to the school's library didn't prove anything useful, and with a sip of the juice Lilia snuck in for them, she sighed, running her hands through  her hair. There was nothing here about Derek.

"There's nothing here."

She stated, looking over at Lilia who peered over at her from the book he was peeking through about one of the Fae wars. She wondered what it was like- needing to go through all these books of a war you went through. Did it bring back bad memories? Did it hurt?

"I'm afraid not. Though, I may have a solution for you in the meantime." He said, gaining her attention from the book she was looking through. Lilia continued on,

"Perhaps I can set some things up- and winter break is in two weeks. Maybe you can come with us and we can visit the library there. In Briar Valley there's got to be something about your father, little one."

He stated, (Y/n) gave a bit of a forced smile, though she was still thankful for him. "Thank you- but.. I do have a question."

"Hmm?"

"If you.. Y'know, fought in the wars shouldn't that make you... old?"

The question brought a smile of amusement to Lilia's face, and he shrugged, explaining about the life of a Fae.

"We don't exactly grow old, as you may put it. When a Fae reaches maturity, they stay that way until they ultimately die. Though I will admit due to coming to this school I may have worked a bit of magic to keep my appearance the way it is right now. Khehe."

He laughed, at the surprised look on your face. "So you used to look different from how you do now?"

"Very much so. If you come with us to Briar Valley, not only will you be able to get to know a bit of answers, though you may also be able to see me in my true form. Though, you have to keep it a secret from everyone aside from Diasomnia if you do see it." He teased, with a slight snicker.

"Okay! One more question.."

"And that is?"

(Y/n) breathed out a breath she wasn't aware she was even holding, and looked up at Lilia, a bit nervous. She could very well not be of 'Human' species.

"If my father is a Fae, then does that mean..?"

Lilia nodded, reaching out to take a hold of one of your hands. "You very well may have Fae blood running through your veins. That would also make the scent you have more understandable too. You do smell like you are half blood. Though if you are, that means you will live a bit longer than normal humans, I hope you are aware of that."

(Y/n) nodded, closing her eyes for a moment to gather her bearings, before smiling slightly at him. She thanked him, and they both stood up.

"It's not often we have company over at Diasomnia. Why don't you come over for dinner? I'm cooking tonight."

"That sounds like a great plan. Thank you in advance for having me over."

Lilia smiled, nodded, and walked off, (Y/n) following after him to tell Grim she wouldn't be at Ramshackle for dinner tonight.

The glasses of half empty grape juice and books were piled on the table behind them, forgotten about.