#so much for tryna be back lmao

[mello-makes-stuff]

Fuck burnout bro. Idk when Imma make new stuff apparently :/

Hey everyone! Due to some severe health issues I've been gone for a while, but now I'm back! :DDDD

Requests and other new things will be finished soon, thanks so much for your patience! :DDD

[nitpick7]

the amount of mental gymnastics i have to do in order to make parfies be toxic about each other but still soulmates in the au is. a lot. i'm gonna make it work (and i don't have to deal with it for a while) but i've already established that soulmates are whoever is best for each other at the time, so to have parfies be terrible and toxic in season 2 while still being soulmates will beeeee hard to justify! but i will do it. yandere wifies will be real. (also hi sorry for not posting abt soulmates au very much i have been distracted but i have not abandoned it)

[fruitsyrups]

i think your hat post is really cool and interesting but susan’s hat is a cat and i will die on this hill

this is true!!! when i was talking about the modern human hats not resembling animals i meant all of these ones

(excluding the minerva-bots and finn of course)

[takhayyul]

wait hiii :) takhayyul is a beautiful word! i’m super curious, what other languages can u speak?

hiii <3 i can speak english french urdu and punjabi fluently. very limited knowledge in korean and german

[keeps-ache]

the urge to talk my head off vs. the calm of quiet vs. the Thoughts

[phoenix-before-the-flame]

How come you dont write anymore?

Now how to answer that doesn't sound extremely depressing lmao

Hmmm well when I was more active in the writing scene in the earlier days of this blog I was not in the best of places, both literally and mentally. Early teens with a sucky home life and school life, yadda yadda you get the picture. Couldn't draw yet so writin was the only decentish escape I had at the time.

Buuuut the kicker is that since this online space I had carved out for myself was my only place of solace which i had made with said writin I essentially doubled down on myself with a lotta pressure to try and keep said online haven safe and normal.

Which led me to start following fandom trends i didnt necessarily agree with but still went along regardless (like using HCs and characterizations i wasn't 100% on), placing myself on a waaaaaay too high of a pedestal when something I wrote didnt turn out how I wanted, slowly losing enjoyment for writing because I was so fearful of losin my lil online space i was writing more for stuff I knew other people would enjoy than what i really wanted to do.

So tl:dr I don't write anymore cause most of my writing was done durin a rlly rough time in my teens and i was so desperate for online validation as a lonely kid that a lot of the stuff i wrote i didn't rlly enjoy and im tryna unwork from off of that 😎👍

[geddy-leesbian]

this is me casually kicking even more completely unnecessary angst on to luis

[motochiri]

corny BUT i was rly the happiest in 2020-2022 when i got into spirituality & psychadelics and i feel like my quality of life is significantly worse when i dont take the time to appreciate like..... the magic of the world.........................

[mythvoiced]

@jeoseungsaja | the GBEP

Another world, another time, perhaps even the exact same but under whatever foreign unknown circumstances, varied ever so slightly by some unknown variable, and Rang would have lunged. Away or at Yeo.

Perhaps he'd reached out with his free arm and given Yeo enough reason to never step closer again, a slash across his face, or whatever else his hand might do before Rang has the wits to recognize or realize or redirect. Whenever he strikes out in an attempt to be the one who makes bleed and not the one who bleeds, all rationale flies out the window, because he knows he's right in those moments.

There's no self-preservation if you stop to wonder who you hurt to keep yourself alive.

But this is not that other world, not that other time, and Rang freezes up instead.

A second turns into a minute. A sea made of blood and screams roars somewhere in the back of his head where he can't access it, stuck in the tunnel between the forefront of his mind and the battlefield of his memories. A moment of tension, a moment of decision-making, a moment where his chest fills with air and keeps it trapped, a moment seemed locked in a countdown to god knows what turnaround, until Yeo finally spares him of figuring out what he'd do if he hadn't let go.

The air leaves him with a breath he can neither describe as exhale nor as inhale. He softens it only to makes it silent, bites down onto it and tries to swallow it back into his chest. Something cold drags along his arm, metal pressed into his sleeve and Rang frowns for a moment, not able to tear his gaze away from what Yeo is doing long enough to see what with.

It'd be easier to be stuck between the jaws of something.

More comfortable.

Trapped under a mountain of frantic claws and snapping teeth, begging for a saviour out of sheer habit, and not thanks to any sort of genuine belief he might get saved.

He'd always been like that, as a child. Begging and calling for help because that's what the mouth of the dying does. Had a hand actually reached through and kept him from figuring out how fast he heals missing chunks of flesh, he might have bitten it off.

Nothing quite as scary as something unfamiliar.

Nothing quite as scary as watching, still as a statue, what Yeo is up to. Wondering, if he'll bleed out on this soil because Yeo had decided to rear his head and delivery his own brand of cruelty Rang seems to have been designed to be target of.

He doesn't consider himself a victim, oh no.

He doesn't deserve it, either.

It's just the way of the world, isn't it?

The first sound he makes is a hiss, hand - blissfully freed - shooting out, nails offered first to drag along the back of Yeo's hand, a subconscious reflex to get the pain away.

Then the pain fades on its own, though. There's no further tightening, there's no willful deepening of his wound, there's no tightening it unnecessarily to teach him a lesson. When Yeo pulls away, Rang feels as lost as a puppy handed a toy rather than a slap.

He stares at Yeo as though he isn't quite sure anymore which he'd been supposed to expect from.

Yeo is a mystery to him on his best days.

He's so damned stubborn, would rather bleed for his cause than simply pick a different cause. It's always unnerved him, Rang supposes it will always unnerve him and not because... because he gives a damn about his state.

But because it's idealistic and stupid.

Because a world that is good and kind enough for someone like Yeo to snap himself in half over and over and over again simply does not exist, and if it were to exist, it would not be theirs. He'll go god knows how many more centuries bleeding to death before he'll get it through that thick skull of his, Rang supposes. There's no stubbornness quite as violent and well-rooted as that of the righteous.

And yet, Yeo doesn't feel righteous, either. Too snappish when he wants to be, but it's a farse, isn't it? Be uncouth because gentleness would only make Rang bite again.

He hates the way it feels, instantly, the moment his arm connects with Yeo, the moment his weight is being supported by someone else, the moment he feels fabric against fabric. He hisses through his teeth again until the sound turns into a snarl and if it weren't for how much his leg hurt--

Actually, perhaps, he should simply have shoved Yeo back into the ground and limped his way out of here. Left him to deal with the consequences of Rang's actions. That's what he's good at, after all. Set the world on fire because he can't stop making sparks by striking his growls against his screams.

"You're one to talk," he manages after... far too long, a mumbled half-assed snap. His hand curls where it swings over Yeo's front. He wants to drag him down and make him eat the soil beneath his feet.

He wants him to not let go.

"You're ridiculous, every second time I meet you you're covered in more scratches than what else," he risks a glance, tries to wipe the terror off his features. "How hypocritical."

[retiredcultistredux]

Why did you choose NOW to butt in? Why not follow the death cultists that can ABSOLUTELY destroy the world 99% of the time?

Quincy: "Besides, how was I supposed to know he was working with these 'death cultists'? It's not like he told us anything useful. All we've known for a long time is that he wants power--there's loads of powerful deities and artifacts in the Main Realm, and even beyond. It's like finding a needle in an astronomically large haystack, and constantly finding Nothing upon Nothing is just...I'm kind of at my wit's end here. Cut me and the others some slack, ok? ...Oh, and I saw what you said about some 'long hallway'. I was hoping you could be more precise. You seem to know what's been happening, so surely you'd have more information, right?"

They paused, sighing.

Quincy: "...Sorry. I'm not trying to be rude. This is just...a lot more than you realize, and now that I know Void Termina's involved...I really don't work well under this much pressure, huh..."

[pbaz7]

SOFT SPOT: CHAPTER 6

paige x azzi

warning: sexual content

word count: 12k

a/n: this was originally like 8k words but the wings made me stress write for the rest of my saturday so we made it to 12k lmao. this chapter is just the rest of their lil cabin trip so enjoy 🤭. let me know what you think of the chapter if you can and feel free to let me know anything you’d like to see or if there’s any typos <3

—————————————————————————

Azzi blinked once, twice, five too many times against the morning light that seemed to be blinding her from the cabin windows. The spot next to her was empty and the only evidence that Paige had even been there was the faint scent she left behind on her pillows. It felt way too early to be awake on an off day so Azzi laid there for a few extra moments absently trailing her fingers over the space Paige had occupied however long ago. With real rest finally behind her, Azzi could understand what she felt last night more clearly. She had a gnawing ache in her chest, an uneasy flutter in her stomach every time Paige so much as looked at her.

She’d been in flings before, very casual relationships that never asked for much more than a familiar person to sleep with. But whatever the hell she felt for Paige lived under her skin, in the small crevices of her brain. Paige had a way of setting her pulse off rhythm by just existing, of showing up in her thoughts when Azzi was doing something as simple as drinking a smoothie. These thoughts had a way of making her throat feel like sandpaper and gave her a hollow ache behind her eyes because she knew they weren’t anything…technically. Not yet at least.

She was sure Paige felt something for her. She just didn’t know if it was a simple attraction, if she was lining up to be in another casual relationship because trying to read Paige was like trying to catch a reflection in moving water.

Eventually after growing tired of her own thoughts, she rolled out of the bed with a soft groan, grabbing her sweater on the way out of Paige��s room. She walked quietly back to the guest room she was supposed to sleep in, brushing her teeth and pulling her slightly tangled curls into a low bun.

When she made her way downstairs, the living room and kitchen were empty with no sign of Paige.

Azzi grabbed a banana from the counter before slipping out the back door, the crisp morning air nipping at her exposed legs as she made her way around the side of the cabin. When she reached the gym she heard what was becoming a familiar sound of Paige hitting a bag.

She pushed the door open and sure enough Paige was standing in front of a hanging bag as she moved through precise movements. All of them were thrown with the kind of control that reflected just how much time she put into her craft.

Azzi leaned silently against the doorframe as she ate her banana, letting her eyes wander over the scene. Paige’s hair was pulled up haphazardly, a few damp strands clinging to her neck, her shirt clinging to her torso. She moved like the world faded away when she was training, like her and the bag were the only things in existence.

When she was done with her banana Azzi tossed it in the nearby trash can and pushed off the doorframe. “Weren’t we just here less than twelve hours ago?”

Paige glanced over with her breath coming steadily but a little heavy, sweat trailing down her temple. She gave a small shrug in response, letting her knuckles connect with the bag again.

Azzi tilted her head. “You good?”

“Mmm,” was all Paige offered, her gaze drifting back to the bag as if it held answers she still needed to knock loose.

Azzi stepped closer moving around to the far side of the bag. She placed her hands on it, steadying it as Paige was about to throw another combo.

“I wouldn’t suggest that,” Paige said, pausing mid-motion.

Azzi raised her eyebrow, keeping her hands where they were. “What, am I gonna mess up your rhythm or something?”

Paige shook her head, a small chuckle escaping her. “Not tryna hurt you.”

“How would I get hurt just holdin—”

Paige stepped forward slightly, pressing her hand against the bag so it pushed into Azzi’s hands. Her gaze dipped, nodding toward Azzi’s shooting hand.

Azzi glanced down, noticing how her wrist was bending awkwardly under the pressure.

“If I throw a hard elbow into the bag, like I was about to,” Paige said, her eyes still on Azzi’s wrist, “it’ll fuck that up real quick. You’ll feel it in your elbow too.”

Azzi slowly pulled her hands back, lifting them in surrender, and Paige gave a small smile before turning back to the heavy bag. The sound of her hits continued immediately after.

Azzi watched her for a moment before asking, “Why are you in here so early?”

“I fought like shit.”

Azzi leaned against the wall, folding her arms across her chest . “How so?”

Paige’s fist sank into the bag.“They knew I watched tape,” she said between strikes. “So they made the fight unpredictable. Switched up every round. Took me too long to find a rhythm.” Her right leg snapped up into a sharp kick. “My footwork was slow. Escape time was off. I wasn’t reading her tells quick enough and got a fuckin concussion cause of it.”

Each of her sentences was punctuated by a harder connection to the bag—frustration dripping into every maneuver. Azzi pushed off the wall, a little unease growing in her chest as she approached.

“I wasn’t sharp,” Paige said, her voice low this time, almost like she was just speaking to herself. “I should’ve seen it coming.”

Azzi stepped behind the bag again, gently placing her hands on both sides, hoping Paige would register her in time. She caught the subtle flicker in Paige’s eyes just before her next punch landed as she halted mid-swing, breathing hard, eyes moving up to meet Azzi’s. “Azzi, I just told you not to do that.”

Azzi made sure her voice was soft when she spoke. “You know there’s no such thing as perfect, right?”

Paige stared at her for a moment with sweat glistening along her eyebrows. Her jaw was tight, her knuckles most likely red underneath her gloves.

Azzi tilted her head to the side slightly. “You’re allowed to mess up. You’re allowed to be human.”

Paige exhaled through her nose, shaking out her hands. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“I’m not saying you should,” Azzi said, keeping her voice soft. “I’m just saying don’t beat yourself up for not winning every second. That’s not what makes great people great.”

Paige looked away for a moment, wiping her neck on the towel nearby with her jaw tight. She didn’t respond to Azzi’s words, her breath still coming out in short, controlled bursts.

Azzi smiled as she watched Paige process her words. To soften the moment she added, “You look kinda good when you’re brooding and all that, though. But that’s beside the point.”

That earned a huff from Paige. “That so?”

Azzi shrugged. “I make it a point not to lie to people who can knock my head off.”

Paige cracked a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She tilted her head a few times, still trying to bring herself down from the frustration humming in her muscles. When it didn’t work she sighed quietly. “Can you move for me?” she asked, not unkindly but edged with a slight tension. “I gotta let it out or Imma tweak eventually, and I’m not tryna do that.”

Azzi didn’t move right away, but she gave her a soft look. “You’re not as bad as you think Paige.”

Paige chuckled. “You haven’t seen me pissed off.”

Azzi’s gaze lingered on her, watching the way Paige’s hands flexed at her sides, itching to hit something again. Slowly, she stepped aside. “Okay,” she said softly. “Do what you gotta do.”

Azzi turned to walk away, but before she could take more than a few steps, Paige reached out, her fingers wrapping gently around Azzi’s wrist.

“Thank you,” Paige said, making her voice more sincere than before. “For checking. I’ll come back inside in a lil bit.”

Azzi gave her a small nod, her fingers giving Paige’s forearm a soft squeeze, lingering longer than she needed to. “Don’t stay out too long,” she said before turning and walking back inside.

…

Paige came in about 45 minutes later, her shirt clinging to her skin and her grey shorts noticeably damp with her sweat. She didn’t say anything to announce her presence, just wiped her face with the towel around her neck and made her way into the kitchen. Azzi, who was stretched out on the couch, lifted her head watching her move.

Paige started grabbing ingredients: frozen fruit, almond milk, protein powder. “You want one?”

Azzi nodded, pushing herself up a bit more on the couch. “Yeah, sure.” She stayed where she was, watching the way Paige moved around the kitchen. Eventually, she slid off the couch and wandered into the kitchen, leaning against the counter just a few steps away. Paige didn’t look at her, just kept blending until the machine whirred to a stop.

“Feel better?”

Paige shrugged, pouring the smoothie into two cups. “Well enough,” she mumbled. Her voice was a little horse, like she hadn’t used it at all since Azzi left the gym—potentially letting out a few frustrated yells.

She handed one of the cups to Azzi and finally looked at her. With the way Azzi was leaning on the counter, Paige’s frame loomed a little bit over hers naturally. Azzi took a sip, her eyes on Paige as she tried the drink. She pulled back with a slight smile and a shrug. “It’s alright.”

Paige shook her head, letting out a scoff. “Aight bro.”

Azzi reached out to stop her from moving away, her fingertips brushing against Paige’s stomach only to immediately recoil with a scrunched nose. “You’re sweaty.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, laughing a little. “Observation of the year,” she said before taking a sip of her smoothie. “I just came out the gym, what you expect?”

Azzi wiped her hand on her thigh exaggeratedly. “A towel, maybe? A rinse? Courtesy?”

Paige stepped a little closer, crowding Azzi just enough to make her lean back against the counter again. “You knew what this was, you came in the kitchen on your own.”

Azzi gave her a playful glare. “I came in here for a smoothie.”

“You’re still standin’ here.”

Azzi paused, eyes moving between Paige’s eyes and lips before saying, “That’s your fault.”

Paige’s eyebrow lifted slightly. “How?”

Azzi nodded toward the small space between them, then motioned subtly between their bodies. “This.”

Paige shifted, about to step back, but Azzi’s fingers grabbed her shirt, stopping her.

“Thought I was sweaty,” Paige said, smiling a little.

Azzi’s hand slid under Paige’s shirt slightly, her fingertips resting against damp skin. “You are,” she said. “But now I don’t care.”

Paige's eyes moved down to where Azzi’s hand was resting under her shirt. “Little bipolar, no?”

“Or a woman who’s allowed to change her mind.”

Paige’s lips twitched into a half-smirk. “Fair.”

She looked down at Azzi, her bottom lip tucked in between her teeth a little.

Azzi shifted under her gaze. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“I’m not lookin’ at you like anything,” Paige said. “Just usin’ my eyes.”

Azzi arched her eyebrow. “Exactly.”

Paige grinned, then closed her eyes dramatically, lifting her hands in a phoney surrender.

Azzi snorted, giving her a light shove in the chest. “You’re so stupid.”

Paige stepped back with the push, laughing under her breath. “Assaulting me in my own kitchen for just lookin’ at you is crazy.”

Azzi leaned against the counter again, sipping her smoothie trying to hide that she was a little flustered. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Paige shook her head, wiping a bit of sweat from her temple with the towel still around her neck. “You started it.”

“No, you started it. Walking in here all...” she gestured vaguely at Paige’s body, “...like that.”

Paige looked shocked. “So what, I’m the problem now?”

Azzi met her eyes, holding the stare. “I never am.”

They stood there with the tension increasing between them. Paige leaned in a little, her eyes drifting to Azzi’s lips purposefully.

“You gonna keep lookin’ at me, or do something?”

Paige swallowed once, then smiled. “You keep tellin’ me I’m sweaty so I should prolly go handle that.”

Azzi took a small step forward, close enough that their chests were touching. “I already said I didn’t care.”

Another small moment passed before Paige took a step back with a grin, heading for the stairs.

“Where are you going?”

Paige looked over her shoulder. “Gotta go shower. Not tryna drench you with my sweat.”

Azzi laughed before mumbling to herself, “Bit late for that.”

…

The rest of the day was comfortably slow. Exactly what both of them needed.

They started with a couple of movies, laying on the couch with Paige’s legs stretched out in front of her and Azzi’s legs thrown over her lap despite the side-eye Paige gave her when she initially did it. Azzi was in charge of picking the first movie and without saying anything put on a romance movie. Paige once again gave her the biggest side-eye known to man, barely holding back a groan as the soft piano music kicked in. She only made it ten minutes in before glancing at Azzi and saying, “This for real what we’re watching?”

Azzi didn’t even look at her. “Shh. Let your heart grow a few sizes.”

An hour later, Paige had to physically bite her lip to stop herself from laughing when she noticed Azzi wiping her eyes. “Yo you crying?”

Azzi sniffled dramatically. “Mind your business.”

Lunch was simple, mostly because Azzi insisted on making it and Paige insisted on doubting it. The moment Azzi put the plate in front of her, Paige squinted at the meal.

“You made me leaves?”

Azzi gave her a look. “It’s arugula, actually.”

Paige poked it with her fork a few times like it might fight back. “Tastes like grass.”

“Keep talking and I’ll go back and add kale.”

Despite the back and forth, Paige ended up clearing her plate, mumbling something about it not being "terrible" after the third bite. Azzi only rolled her eyes and stole a piece of chicken off Paige’s plate.

After that the rest of the afternoon passed with small conversation, a second movie (this one more tolerable by Paige’s standards), and a few hours of simply existing in each other’s space for the first time.

Eventually, as the evening started to creep in, it was time to get ready. Paige had been downstairs for 30 minutes, dressed in simple black pants and a light button-up, her hair pulled into a bun. She was sitting on the couch with her phone, trying to act casual but checking the stairs every few minutes like clockwork.

When Azzi finally walked down the stairs she had on a simple black dress, her naturally curly hair falling around her shoulders, and a subtle glow to her skin from the soft makeup she put on.

Paige did a double take from the couch. Her hand that was draped over the backrest, tensed as her eyes tracked Azzi’s every step.

Azzi noticed her stare almost immediately and raised her eyebrow. “What?”

Paige blinked once then let her eyes roam a little more deliberately the second time. “You’re gonna make us late.”

Azzi glanced at the time on her phone. “I’m right on time.”

Paige finally pulled her eyes away saying, “Not what I meant.”

Azzi caught on, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Yeah, okay.”

Paige stood up, brushing her palms over her pants to smooth out any creases. Azzi’s eyes take a slow pass over her, appreciating the fit of Paige’s outfit, the way her button-up hugged her frame, and how that bun had her thinking unspeakable things.

“You clean up alright.”

Paige scoffed. “Alright?”

Azzi just smiled, walking past her toward the door. Paige followed, shaking her head as she reached for the door, holding it open for Azzi to step through, her hand brushing against Paige’s as she passed.

“Not bad at the chivalry thing either,” she whispered, half to herself.

The drive to the restaurant was pretty quiet. Azzi was starting to realize that Paige had her moments. Times when she was more open and willing to talk, and others where she just…wasn’t. This seemed to be one of the quieter ones, so Azzi didn’t press for a conversation. She just leaned into the silence, watching the trees pass.

Every now and then, she’d feel Paige’s eyes on her. It was just quick glances at first, then longer ones once they got off the highway, like she was studying her. Azzi didn’t say anything about it, just tucked the observation away for later.

When Paige finally pulled to a stop they were outside of a small restaurant near the water. The sky was starting to streak in soft pinks and oranges, taking on a sort of quiet glow that made everything feel a little slower, a little softer.

“You been here before?” Azzi asked with her eyes still trained on the building and the stretch of a beach behind it.

Paige nodded, keeping her gaze ahead. “Yeah a few times. Usually during breakfast or lunch when it’s more casual though.”

Azzi hummed at that as a small smile grew. “So you’re really showing me all your spots hm?”

Paige gave a subtle shrug, like it was no big deal that she was taking Azzi to one of her favorite places to go when the world seemed too big. “Just figured you deserved something decent to eat.”

Before Azzi could give a sarcastic response, Paige was already stepping out of the car. A few seconds later, the passenger door opened and Paige was offering Azzi her hand to help her step out. Azzi didn’t need to know that Paige had never done any of this for anyone else. That she actually used to clown Ben when she would see him doing shit like this for Cam.

Azzi took her hand as she stepped out with a smile on her face that she didn’t even try to hide. “You’re committed to this chivalry thing, huh?”

Paige just shook her head before letting their hands drop and walking with her toward the entrance.

The inside of the restaurant was warm and elegant with dim lighting. After checking in with the hostess, they were led through the main dining area and out toward the back. The outdoor patio opened up to an incredible view of the beach and the eventual sunset, the sound of the water soft in the background.

Azzi glanced around as she settled into her seat. “Okay, this is kinda perfect.”

Paige leaned back slightly, her gaze drifting out toward the water. “Told you I’m not a bum.”

Azzi smiled across the table, her fingers toying with the edge of her menu. “So…what do you usually get when you come here?”

Paige met her eyes. “You ordering what I get now?”

Azzi smiled. “I’m just trying to understand you.”

Paige lifted an eyebrow. “Good luck with that.”

The restaurant patio had a dreamlike quality to it. There were soft amber string lights that twinkled overhead, tangled with ivy vines that framed the white wooden beams. A breeze rolled in from the water, lifting the edge of the linen tablecloths slightly and carrying the scent of salt that mixed with the jasmine candle that was lit at the table.

Paige sat comfortably with her elbow resting on the arm of her chair, fingers lightly tapping the stem of her glass. She didn’t say much to start, just watched Azzi; her curls blowing slightly when there was wind, her eyes shifting across the menu.

When Azzi looked up she caught Paige looking but didn’t say anything. “I’m torn. Do I want the salmon or the pasta with—”

“Pasta.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes playfully. “You didn’t even let me finish.”

“You were about to say shrimp pasta. I could feel it.”

Azzi laughed quietly. “Okay, maybe I was.”

“I just saved you some time princess . You’re welcome.”

Azzi rolled her eyes at the comment but ended up ordering the salmon anyway. Paige stuck with the pasta.

As the food and drinks came—just sparkling water tonight . Their conversation grew steadier.

“You said you came here a few times before. You ever just…sit out there?” Azzi asked, gesturing toward the shoreline.

Paige leaned back a little, eyes squinting at the horizon because she didn’t have on her glasses or contacts. “Not as much as I’d prolly like to. When I come here it’s usually quick. Food and go.”

“So never the romantic beach walk?”

Paige gave her a side glance at the subtle question. “A romantic beach walk with myself?”

Azzi smiled but didn’t say anything else on the topic.

They talked about random things. Azzi told Paige how she used to daydream about being a chef when she was younger but couldn’t commit to anything that required her to chop onions everyday without crying. Paige admitted that she tried to learn the guitar but gave up after a few weeks because her fingers hurt.

“You quit because of a little finger pain?”

“My fingertips felt like I was slicing them in half after an hour of practicing.”

“Yeah, but imagine you serenading me today if you stuck with it?”

“No chance,” Paige said, and Azzi laughed, throwing her balled up straw paper at Paige.

Halfway through the meal, Azzi leaned forward looking a little suspicious. “Yours smells better.”

“Because it is,” Paige said flatly as she chewed on her food.

Azzi stared, then leaned forward further, extending her fork toward Paige’s plate.

Paige raised an eyebrow. “You good?”

“Just one bite.”

“That’s how it starts.”

Azzi pouted, giving Paige her full brown eyes. “Please?”

Paige stared at her for a few seconds, fighting a smile, then slowly pushed her plate toward her. “One.”

Azzi tried the pasta and her eyes closed blissfully and a huge grin overcame her face.

Before she could even ask Paige sighed and grabbed Azzi’s plate before pushing hers toward the curly haired girl.

Azzi thanked her and did a little dance in her seat before she started to eat again.

They kept talking throughout the meal and at one point Azzi said something under her breath that was dry and completely unexpected from her and Paige let out a laugh that surprised herself. Not a short snort. Not a chuckle. An actual laugh that sounded completely genuine.

Azzi’s eyes lingered on her after that. “You should laugh more.”

Paige looked at her, still amused and now a little flustered. “Yeah?”

Azzi nodded. “Yeah. It sounds pretty and it looks good on you.”

Paige sucked her teeth as she chuckled. “You’re really pushing it tonight.”

“I mean,” Azzi said, leaning back in her chair and sipping her drink, “I’m calling a spade a spade.”

The sky darkened until only the soft amber bulbs and the fire of the candlelight on the table kept them illuminated. The patio started to thin out as other couples finished their meals, but Paige and Azzi lingered just talking.

By the time the plates were cleared, Paige had moved her chair slightly and sat with her body turned slightly toward Azzi. Azzi mirrored her with her chin resting on the palm of her hand.

They ordered one dessert to share because Azzi didn’t want to eat it alone. It was some sort of lemon tart Azzi picked and they took turns taking bites until it was gone. Paige’s favorite part was watching Azzi close her eyes after the first taste and she told herself Azzi didn’t need to know that she didn’t even like lemon cake that much.

Paige eventually stood and pulled her wallet out, brushing off Azzi’s attempt to split the bill with a shake of her head mumbling about not being stupid.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be?”

“Pretty much,” Paige said.

Azzi shook her head, standing to go back through the restaurant to the parking lot, but Paige reached out and gently caught her by the wrist nodding her head toward the beach.

The smile on Azzi’s face was impossible to hide. “Seriously?”

Paige gave a small shrug. “Figured you mentioned that walk on the beach for a reason earlier.”

Azzi smiled at that and Paige crouched slightly, motioning for her to step out of her heels. Azzi placed her hands on Paige’s shoulders for balance, stepping out one foot at a time. Paige put both of the shoes in one hand and helped Azzi step off of the patio.

“You’re romantic,” Azzi said as they started walking along the shore.

Paige chuckled. “Am I?”

Azzi nodded, slipping her hand into Paige’s and lacing their fingers together.

Paige glanced down at their hands, raising an eyebrow like she was about to make a comment about it but decided against it. Instead, she let her thumb gently graze the side of Azzi’s hand as they walked.

The beach was quiet at this hour, only a few scattered lights from distant houses and the moon casting a shimmer on the waves.

“So what do you usually do after a date?” Azzi asked.

“I don’t usually do dates.”

Azzi looked over, genuinely surprised. “Really?”

Paige side-eyed her, the corner of her mouth lifting. “Why do you sound surprised? Have you met me?”

Azzi laughed, thinking about it. “Fair,” she conceded. Then, a little quieter, “You’re just…you. So it’s a little surprising.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Azzi shook her head, grinning. “I’m not giving you the satisfaction of answering that.”

“Whatever,” Paige mumbled, but she was smiling as they walked along the sand, the silence between them easy.

A minute passed, filled by the sounds of the waves. Then Azzi asked out of nowhere, “What’s the hardest you’ve ever been hit?”

Almost instantly Paige's brain rewound to the moment. “Shit,” she said, shaking her head laughing a little. “I was out with Cam and them. I feel like I’m always getting into some shit when I go out with them… Anyway I don’t even remember what had me pissed off that night. Just one of those nights where somebody blinking at me was pissing me off.”

Azzi’s eyebrows lifted at this information.

“I was tryna stay to myself, just vibe,” Paige went on, “but this dude kept talkin’ shit. Just chirpin’ in my ear, So of course, I get up.”

“Of course,” Azzi echoed, biting back a smile as Paige tells the story.

Paige gestured with her hand holding Azzi’s heels like she was reenacting it. “I didn’t even get to him. Bro met me halfway and rocked my shit. I mean, like, fully body weight rocked my shit. I barely saw it. Whole night turned sideways after that.”

Paige shook her head as she thought about it. “I blacked out after that…not like passed out, but I just tweaked. Next thing I know, Cam and Rae are dragging me off him and Cam’s yelling in my ear about how I’m going to get arrested.”

Azzi burst out laughing. “You beat his ass?”

“Unfortunately,” Paige said. “I don’t even remember connecting the first hit, just remember how quiet it got after.”

Azzi leaned into her a little bit, still laughing. “I’m so glad I’m on your good side.”

Paige gave her a look. “Are you?”

Azzi glanced down at their linked hands, then back up at her with her eyebrows raised.

Paige shook her head at that, laughing a little. “I got hit with a lawsuit after that night, though.”

Azzi’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?”

“Mmhm.” Paige nodded. “I settled before it went too far though. Dude didn’t want his face all over social media”

Azzi tilted her head. “How much?”

Paige shrugged. “Like sixty grand, I think.”

Azzi blinked. “You think?”

“It was a long time ago.”

“Have you had any more like that?” Azzi asked.

Paige looked over. “Lawsuits?”

“I was thinking more like…blacking out, but yeah that works.”

Paige hummed, thinking about it. “No more lawsuits, thank God. But blacking out? Maybe a few more times. It’s rare, though. Takes a lot for me to get there.”

Azzi nodded. “What kind of ‘a lot’ are we talkin’?”

Paige exhaled, her eyes narrowing like she was filtering through memories. “It’s usually not just one thing. It builds. Pressure, fatigue, frustration…being misunderstood. Feeling cornered.” Paige pauses for a moment before saying, “I can deal with all the physical shit that comes with fighting but I struggle with the silent stuff that creeps in.”

Azzi let that sit between them, then asked, “So what do you do now, when you feel it…I don’t know…building?”

Paige looked down at their hands again, thumb brushing lazily over Azzi’s knuckles. “I’m still figuring it out. Some days I just hit the bag until I damn near can't feel my hands. When that doesn't work I come here to Minnesota, try to recenter.”

Azzi nodded at that saying, “That's healthy-ish. Well at least the coming to Minnesota part.”

They walked a few steps in silence before Paige nudged Azzi with her shoulder. “You ever black out?”

Azzi grinned. “Emotionally or legally?”

“Dealer’s choice.”

Azzi laughed. “Emotionally? I’m sure. Usually when I let things build, kinda the same as you. But legally?” She squinted at Paige. “I’d probably cry if someone sent me a letter with the word ‘lawsuit’ in it.”

Paige bumped her again saying, “Of course you would. We gotta toughen you up, princess.”

Azzi looked appalled at the thought. “Toughen up and princess don’t go together.”

“Yes they do. Ever seen a pissed-off disney princess in one of those sword fights? Shit’s crazy.”

Azzi squinted at her. “You’re comparing me to a Disney character now?”

“Depends,” Paige shrugged. “You more Elsa or Mulan?”

Azzi scoffed. “Mulan, easy.”

Paige gave her a once-over. “I can see it. Definitely got some fight in you but you cry at romance movies, so...”

“That’s called being in tune with my emotions.”

Paige snorted. “That’s called soft.”

Azzi squeezed her hand. “Seems like you like that.”

Paige didn’t respond to that, just looked ahead at the shoreline, before a smile she couldn’t control formed and she looked away shaking her head.

Azzi stopped, tugging Paige gently until they both stood still. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

Paige glanced at her, her blue eyes smiling for her. “You’re welcome.”

There was a softness in the way they looked at each other now, like they were more aware of one another.

“So what happens after this?”

Paige shrugged, like she didn’t want to put too much pressure on it. “Whatever you want to happen.”

Azzi smiled. “What if I just wanna keep walking with you for a little longer?”

Paige tugged Azzi with her saying, “Then we’ll keep walking.”

The two of them walked for what felt like hours, their footsteps slow as they talked about everything and nothing all at once. From favorite albums to childhood nicknames, to the most random hypotheticals Azzi could come up with just to hear Paige’s dry responses. The beach completely emptied and all lights turned off, leaving just the sound of the water and the occasional laugh between them echoing into the dark.

Eventually, they started making their way back toward the car, Paige promising that she knew where they were going and that she wouldn’t get Azzi lost. The breeze had cooled enough for Azzi to fold her arms over herself, though she didn’t say anything about it because she was almost positive that Paige would strip out of her shirt just to warm her slightly.

Halfway through the walk, Azzi groaned. “My feet hurt.”

Paige looked over at her, unimpressed. “Thought you were supposed to be an athlete?”

Azzi shot her a glare. “You didn’t tell me I’d be walking miles on our first date.”

Paige snorted, slowing down her pace. “We’re almost there.”

Azzi stopped in place, lifting one foot out of the sand in dramatic protest to ‘inspect’ it. “Define ‘almost.’”

Paige turned toward her, folding her arms as she looked at her. “You’re capable of walking, Azzi.”

“I’m capable of a lot of things. Doesn’t mean I should have to do them.”

Paige sighed like she was fighting a smile. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thank you,” Azzi said sweetly, extending her arms. “Gimme a piggy back ride.”

“You’re outta your mind.”

Azzi just blinked at her, still holding her arms out.

Paige groaned but turned around, crouching a little. “Get on before I change my mind.”

Azzi lit up, carefully hopping onto Paige’s back, arms wrapping around her shoulders as she smiled. “See? Was that so hard?”

Paige adjusted her grip under Azzi’s legs and made sure she still had her heels secured in her hand before she straightened up. “You’re lucky I think you’re cute.”

Azzi rested her chin on Paige’s shoulder. “I know.”

They walked the rest of the way like that. Azzi’s curls occasionally brushed against Paige’s cheek, and every now and then she’d hum softly under her breath, like she didn’t want the moment to end.

“Hey, Paige?” she said quietly in her ear after a while.

“Mhmm?”

Azzi paused, like she was searching for the right words. Then she decided, “Thanks for tonight.”

Paige gave Azzi’s thigh a gentle squeeze with her hand.

…

By the time they got back to the cabin, the sky was pitch black, scattered with stars, and the wind had grown quieter away from the water.

Inside, the warmth of the cabin was a nice contrast to the outside world. Paige moved on autopilot kicking off her shoes and pulling her hair down from the bun, and heading straight for the shower. Her muscles still ached from being in the gym early in the morning and the hours-long walk, but it was the good kind of tired. The kind that settles in your bones after a day that would be sure to hold memories that you’d look back on.

After washing off the ocean and sand, she tossed on a tank top and boxers. Her voice was already a little horse when she went to go say goodnight to Azzi who was in the middle of taking off her makeup. She offered a soft, “Goodnight,” before going back to her room and falling face first into the mattress.

It was nearly 3 a.m. when the knock came on Paige’s door.

Paige barely opened her eyes this time. Her face was buried deep into the pillows, her limbs felt heavy and unwilling to move so she just yelled out with a hoarse voice. “Come in.”

The door creaked open a second later, quiet footsteps walking across the floor. Paige didn’t lift her head. But she felt Azzi standing there lingering in place.

“What’re you doin’?” Paige asked.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

There was a pause. Paige shifted slightly, patting the empty space beside her without lifting her head. “Don’t stand there like a creep.”

That made Azzi smile as she crossed the rest of the room and slipped under the covers next to her, the mattress dipping under her weight.

They didn’t touch at first. Paige was still on her stomach with her face pressed into the pillows and Azzi laid on her side, watching the curve of Paige’s back rise and fall.

“Long day,” Azzi whispered after a while.

Paige hummed in agreement. “Mhm.”

Azzi starts tossing around for a few minutes restlessly shifting. At first, Paige ignores it, chalking it up to the usual fight to get comfortable after being hot. But when Azzi rolls again, her elbow brushing Paige’s side, Paige groans softly and blindly reaches out, wrapping an arm around Azzi and tugging her back against her chest and tangling their legs.

“Jesus,” she mumbled, her lips moving against Azzi’s shoulder. “You don’t ever stay still?”

Azzi didn’t answer, just exhaled softly. The sound wasn’t so much from her being tired, more so…thoughtful. Her breathing was different from the night before. Less casual. A little heavier.

Paige noticed, vaguely but she was so far gone from exhaustion that her brain wrote it off as nothing.

She kept her arm draped around Azzi, her fingers resting on Azzi’s bare stomach from her only having on a sports bra. Paige’s eyes were already closing again when she felt Azzi subtly pressing herself back into her.

Paige’s eyebrows knit together, even in her half-sleep daze as she tightened her grip on Azzi slightly.

Another few minutes passed. Then Azzi shifted again a little more deliberately this time as she pushed herself back into Paige’s space more firmly. Her hips met Paige’s body with a subtle arch.

Paige blinked a few times, suddenly feeling wide awake.

Her breath got stuck a little. Not in an alarming or surprising way. Just in the sudden rush of clarity. Her arm stayed locked around Azzi’s waist, but her fingers flexed against her stomach slightly.

“…Azzi,” she said softly, her breath warm against the back of Azzi’s neck.

Azzi didn’t say anything right away. She reached down, gently lacing her fingers with Paige’s where they rested on her stomach. Then she whispered a little recklessly, “I thought you were tired.”

Paige swallowed hard, her nose brushing Azzi’s hair. “I was.”

Azzi let her thumb stroke across Paige’s knuckles. “Are you still?”

Paige exhaled through her nose, her eyes were heavy but the rest of her body felt fully awake. She tightened her hold to pull Azzi back into her again, not saying anything but answering.

“I don’t think that’s a no.”

Paige chuckled softly, pressing her forehead against the curve of Azzi’s shoulder. “It’s a ‘don’t start something you not ready to finish.’”

Azzi didn’t answer with words. She reached down and gently guided Paige’s hand beneath the waistband of her pajama shorts. Settling Paige’s hand where her body was screaming for attention. Her core was already warm from the wetness between her legs that Paige felt instantly. Paige’s fingers twitched and Azzi responded by pressing Paige’s fingers through her folds, a soft inhale escaping her lips at the feeling.

Slowly Paige trailed her hand up and used her middle finger to trace small slow circles against Azzi’s clit, each one softer than the last.

Azzi let out a sigh and tilted her head back against Paige’s shoulder. Letting her body melt into her.

Neither of them said anything. There was only the sound of them breathing, Azzi’s having shifted from steady to something heavier. Paige could feel everything, the rise and fall of her chest, the wetness that was growing underneath the pads of her fingers, the tension in Azzi’s body that wasn’t entirely tension but anticipation.

Paige kept her lips close to Azzi’s ear, but didn’t speak. Just allowing her breathing to be another form of stimulation.

Her thumb brushed against Azzi’s thigh as her middle finger continued to move in slow circles learning what got reactions out of Azzi.

Azzi’s breathing deepened and her chest started to rise slower as she took fuller breaths. Each of her inhales drawn out like she was trying to hold it together.

Paige’s hand didn’t move from Azzi’s clit. The way she was moving was patient. The position they were in was intimate in a way that made it hard for Azzi to breathe.

Azzi let out a quiet, broken whisper when Paige added a little more pressure. “That feels good…”

Paige leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss against the crease of Azzi’s jaw. Her lips lingered there, her breath warm on Azzi’s skin as she brushed her nose against Azzi’s neck, before she pulled back.

Azz’s legs somewhat twitched as her fingers clutched the pillow in front of her, then released it, before clutching again.

She shuffled her hips against Paige’s hand trying to feel more of her but Paige kept the same gentle circles against Azzi’s center with the pad of her finger, like she was committed to the rhythm.

Azzi swallowed hard and her breath hitched when Paige’s fingers moved toward her entrance, gathering her wetness before moving back up again. Azzi’s jaw tightened, pushing her thighs together subtly to add more pressure.

Paige felt the tension building in Azzi’s body, felt the way Azzi arched into her hand so she pressed a little more firmly against Azzi’s bud, occasionally grazing her lips against Azzi’s neck and shoulder.

Azzi exhaled shakily. “Fuck Paigie…”

Paige kissed her just under her and whispered, “I know,” dipping her fingers back down causing Azzi to whimper quietly.

Azzi doesn’t know how long Paige circles her clit. Doesn’t know how many times she sucks in a breath when Paige dips her fingers down just to move them back up to perfectly circle her clit again.

The heat initially from Azzi’s chest was lower in her stomach, a pooling sensation that made it hard for her to stay still. Her body kept shifting: her legs tightening together, then relaxing when Paige kissed her skin, her hips pressing forward into Paige’s hand, her breath falling out in uneven, whimpers.

“Shit Paige…” she choked out. The sound made Paige’s lips twitch into a faint smile against her neck as she sucked on the spot gently, tracing it with her tongue.

Azzi let out another whimper, that was louder. She felt flushed and breathless, her thighs were trembling slightly. It only made her wetter when she thought about how close she was to coming undone just from the pad of one of Paige’s fingers.

When Paige saw Azzi’s eyes starting to flutter she pulled her finger away, to cup Azzi’s center with her palm.

Azzi let out a surprised sound at the loss of stimulation her body was aching for “Wait…”

“Trust me,” Paige whispered before pulling her into a slow kiss. Mirroring the way Paige’s fingers were moving, there was nothing rushed about the kiss. Paige kissed her like she knew exactly how to control Azzi’s body, like she was trying to slow down the sensations pulling at her core. Azzi let herself fall into the kiss, let herself breathe through it, even while her center pulsed in Paige’s warm palm.

Paige deepened the kiss, tracing Azzi’s tongue with her own before sucking on it as her hand free hand held Azzi’s jaw in place gently. Azzi moaned against her mouth. Every nerve ending still on the edge Paige left her on, causing every inch of her skin to feel alive.

Their lips stayed tangled for a few minutes that made Azzi feel like she was suspended in time and just when Azzi’s head started to clear, Paige’s fingers moved back to her clit. Starting those same circles with the pads of her fingers.

The contact was barely there to start but somehow it felt more intense than before.

Azzi's breath got stuck in her throat at the reintroduction to the sensation and her entire body reacted like Paige flipped a switch.

“Paige,” she whimpered out as her voice cracked slightly.

“Mhm?”

Azzi tried to swallow a moan by biting her lip as her fingers clutched the sheets. “You’re…so fucking mean.”

Paige chuckled, moving her mouth to brush against Azzi’s ear. “I’m mean?”

Azzi nodded, trying and failing to keep her hips from moving. “Y-Yeah…”

“Mmhmm,” Paige hummed again, her lips grazing the hinge of Azzi’s jaw. “Just from makin you feel good?”

Azzi whimpered at the cockiness she heard in Paige’s voice. Her breath was unsteady, every part of her fighting to stay composed. “You’re not even fucking me—”

“I am fucking you,” Paige whispered, her thumb now circling Azzi as the rest of her fingers dipped down to tease her entrance before moving back up. Azzi moaned at this, trying to press her thighs together subtly.

Paige soothed her by kissing her temple. “You’re doing so good.”

Azzi’s hand reached for Paige’s forearm, squeezing it like she needed it to ground her. Her voice came out desperate as she said, “You’re gonna make me cum before I feel you.”

Paige smiled. “I know. But I got you.”

She kept her same rhythm against Azzi, sometimes with just one finger in small circles, other times she used two, dragging the pads of her fingers loosely, changing the pressure. Each variation pulled something different from Azzi: little gasps, broken breaths, soft moans that Paige accentuated by sucking on her neck gently.

It didn’t take long for Azzi to feel the heat pooling again, this time obviously stronger, her nerves already frayed from the first time. The closer Paige got her to the edge, the more erratic Azzi became, words slipping from her mouth before she could catch them.

“Fuck daddy I—” she whimpered, her voice cracking before she could finish. Her head tipped back against Paige’s chest as she reached behind her to grab at Paige’s head.

“I—” she tried again, the words trailing off again before she finally got them out. “I’m so close—”

Before she could tell her not to stop, Paige’s fingers left her clit again. Her palm cupping Azzi’s center that she felt pulsing beneath her hand.

When this happened Azzi let out a frustrated, helpless sound. Something between a gasp and a whine. Her fingers pulling at Paige’s forearm trying to guide her back, but Paige just kissed the side of her neck gently, her own breathing completely steady.

“Not yet,” Paige whispered, almost apologetically.

Azzi exhaled unevenly before Paige caught her lips in a kiss that deepened far too quickly. Despite the unbearable heat building inside Azzi’s Paige kissed her like they had all the time in the world. She mapped Azzi’s mouth with hers, her tongue sliding every slowly as she controlled the pace of the kiss. She used just enough pressure to keep Azzi on edge without giving her relief.

When Paige pulled back, it was only to drop kisses to Azzi’s jawline, then lower, finding a spot just under her ear that made Azzi squirm. She palmed Azzi’s center with a little more pressure to reward her but she felt the subtleness of Azzi’s thighs pressing together, trying to create any form of friction. Paige knew it was probably involuntary, she could feel the tension radiating off of her body, feel the effort Azzi was making to not fall apart without what seemed to be Paige’s permission

“Stop,” Paige stated simply.

Azzi’s breath hitched. “I—” she started, her voice embarrassingly stuck. “I can’t control it.”

Paige pulled away everything for a second, just long enough for Azzi to feel the complete loss of sensation. Before she lifted her head to brush her nose against Azzi’s cheek. “Yes, you can.”

Azzi whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to control the tremble in her body.

Paige’s lips brushed against her ear, “Promise I got you. Just wait a little longer for me gorgeous.” Azzi took a long shaky breath and nodded before Paige reconnected their lips. After what felt like forever tangled in slow, aching kisses, Paige’s fingers returned to their familiar place on Azzi’s clit. Causing Azzi to exhale a sound that was closer to a moan than a breath.

She whispered Paige’s name and her voice cracking around it. The blonde’s name left her lips again and again, tangled with fragmented words and half-formed pleas that made Paige smile against her neck.

“Mhmm?” Paige whispered, pretending to play innocent as she kept Azzi trapped in that unbearable space just shy of her release. Paige shifted her touch subtly, the circles beginning to take on more shape.

At first, Azzi didn’t catch it, too caught in the haze of feeling Paige touch her. But after Paige whispered, “Focus for me,” she realized Paige was spelling something.

G-O-O-D G-I-R-L

Azzi’s body jerked at the subtle praise as she bit down on her lip hard enough to sting, swallowing the sound that clawed its way up her throat.

Paige chuckled softly, brushing a kiss against her cheek. “You like that?” she whispered as her fingers continued spelling it out in firm lazy strokes.

Azzi nodded, unable to speak.

It only took a few more minutes—just a few slow, devastating minutes of Paige circling her clit before Azzi completely came undone. Paige was still calm behind her like this wasn’t affecting her in the slightest. Like Azzi falling apart in her arms didn’t have her boxers soaked.

Azzi’s head lolled back against Paige’s chest, her dazed eyes blinking slowly as her parted lips released soft sounds without her permission. The pressure in her body was unbearable in that beautiful, addictive way that blurred the lines in her brain between someone she wanted and now needed. She felt hot all everywhere, her nerves were stretched thin, her muscles twitching with every circle Paige made with her fingers.

Her body started to tighten again “Please don’t stop,” Azzi said, barely loud enough for Paige to hear. Her tone was gentler this time. It wasn’t tinged with frustration or impatience, just quiet begging like she couldn’t take another second.

Paige pressed a kiss to her shoulder before moving down and easily curling two of her fingers into Azzi, causing her to shatter. Her legs tightened and trembled, a visible shudder running through her body as her breath caught then spilled out in uneven waves as she moaned out Paige’s name loudly. Words tumbling from her lips again and again. Her entire body felt like it was shaking as pleasure overtook her.

Azzi went limp against Paige’s chest, a mess of heavy breathing and boneless limbs, and Paige kissed the back of her shoulder as she kept moving her fingers inside of Azzi’s entrance, her fingers hitting that spongy spot every time she slid them in.

Azzi’s head tipped back against Paige’s shoulder when she added another finger, trying to form words and trying to catch her breath from what just happened. “Shit P-Paige, I—” Whatever she was trying to say got swallowed by the feeling of Paige speeding her hand up, pushing into Azzi at a faster pace as the bottom of her palm smacked against Azzi’s clit.

The contact had Azzi’s body jolting each time, her hips moving to meet the slaps, completely drawn to the pressure as she fucked herself on Paige’s fingers as her eyes fluttered, glassy and dazed.

The way Paige fucked her so confidently, so naturally, it was like Azzi’s body recognized her before her mind could even process what was happening. Azzi moaned as her fingers curled around Paige’s forearm again to hold onto something.

“Too much?” Paige whispered against her neck, her lips brushing the shell of Azzi’s ear.

Azzi tried to answer to say no, but her brain was fogged over and she suddenly didn’t know how to use her words. Her body felt hypersensitive, and each touch from Paige was magnified tenfold after how long the blonde dragged out the first orgasm.

Paige smiled and sped up, her fingers disappearing into Azzi at a faster pace, smacking the back of her palm against Azzi’s sensitive clit each time she pushed into her.

Her breath was warm against Azzi’s ear as she started whispering shit she would never be caught dead saying outside of this room.

“You hear that shit?” she whispered, referring to the sound of Azzi’s wetness echoing around the room. “You so easy for me.”

Azzi let out a shaky sound, her hand gripping Paige’s forearm again. She was barely able to speak, but still trying. “Y-You’re so,” she started, but it came out cracked and she couldn’t finish initially. “You’re so fucking good.”

Paige smiled at the admission. “I’m fucking you good Azzi?”

Azzi arched into Paige as she nodded, her body acting on its own every time Paige’s fingers curled. She was already unraveling again but trying to ground herself to extend the pleasure. “Fucking me so good I can’t even think straight daddy,” she admitted with a strained voice.

“I can tell it's mine already,” Paige whispered as she nipped at Azzi’s neck before soothing the skin with her tongue.

Azzi wanted to deny it, put Paige in her place a little but the way her chest opened at the words had her falling deeper and spilling out more onto Paige’s hand. She couldn’t do anything but let herself start to unravel again.

Paige slowed down and used her thumb to circle Azzi’s clit as she pushed deeper into her at a slower pace, drawing out the feeling each time she pulled her fingers out.

Azzi’s body tightened again as her hips twitched without any control. She let out a panicked sound as her hand flew to Paige’s wrist attempting to stop her. “W-Wait, wait I—” Azzi gasped, trying to shift away from Paige’s hand. “Paigie, I…I think I have to pee.”

Paige caught her wrist easily with her other hand that was under Azzi pulling it away. “No you don’t,” she whispered over the shell of Azzi’s ear before she tugged on it with her teeth. “Just relax for me. You trust me right?”

Azzi nodded her head faintly, as she tried to relax, but she was too far gone. She was too sensitive, too wound up from the hours Paige spent edging her without giving her a full release until a little bit ago. Her head was still spinning from the first orgasm, her legs started trembling again, and her mouth parted around broken breaths.

Before she could process what was happening, Paige pressed her thumb down in a firm, perfect circle just as she curled into the spongy part inside of her core..

White heat shot through Azzi’s entire body, wave after wave that felt like it would never stop, crashing over her so hard it stole her breath and made her arch into Paige’s chest. Her hands gripped blindly at the sheets, Paige’s thigh, Paige’s hair, anything she could find, as an involuntary scream tore from her throat, louder than anything she'd meant to make tonight.

She barely registered the warm, soaked mess that came from between her legs, or the aftershocks that rolled through her like she was vibrating from the inside out as Paige kissed along her neck and shoulder. She was whispering things Azzi couldn’t fully hear, her voice not fully registering against the ringing in Azzi’s ears.

Paige pulled her fingers out slowly, her palm dripping as she rested her wrist on Azzi’s hip, her wet fingers hanging idly in the air as Azzi fought to catch her breath, as aftershocks spread through her body in Paige’s arms.

They laid there for a few minutes as Azzi came back to earth, to catch her breath while her skin was still humming. When she gathered the strength she reached down and slid off her soaked pajama shorts before she rolled on top of Paige, settling her weight evenly as her hands braced both sides of Paige’s shoulders.

Paige blinked up at her, dazed but still trying to be composed as she processed how good Azzi looked up there. “I’m good…you don’t have to.”

Azzi’s eyebrows lifted, her expression teetering somewhere between confusion and skepticism. “‘You’re good’?” she repeated, her voice a little incredulous even repeating the words. “What the hell does that even mean?”

Paige chuckled under her breath, still trying to play it cool. “I’m just saying you don’t have to…We can just go to bed if you’re—.”

As she started to explain, her voice tapering off when Azzi leaned down and took Paige’s hand. The one that had been lying stiffly beside her because it was still coated in Azzi’s wetness and brought it to her lips.

Paige froze.

Azzi didn’t say anything at first, just held Paige’s gaze as she licked at her knuckles, her tongue feeling soft and warm before she let her lips part, taking three of Paige’s fingers into her mouth, her eyes only leaving hers when she closed them and hummed around Paige’s fingers.

Paige swallowed harshly as she watched completely frozen as she looked at Azzi in complete disbelief. Azzi’s lips dragged over each of her fingers, her tongue tracing each finger gently as she tasted herself, and it was like Paige forgot how to think as she watched.

When Azzi was done she placed Paige’s hand down then leaned closer, her lips brushing Paige’s jaw. “I wanna make you feel good,” she whispered, almost purring. “You can let me do that for you, right?”

Paige barely managed a nod as the tiniest most helpless sound escaped her before she swallowed it back. Her blue eyes locked on Azzi like she couldn’t fully believe what was happening.

Azzi smiled at Paige’s dazed nod, already knowing she had her exactly where she wanted her. Suddenly stripped of all that calm composure, completely folding at the slight display of dominance. Azzi slipped off Paige's boxers without much protest before straddling her again.

She pushed up Paige’s tank top, revealing the toned lines of her abs and let her fingertips ghost over the skin first, feeling the way Paige’s stomach twitched at the contact, before she leaned down and kissed just above her belly button.

She moved her lips slowly like she had all night. She kissed and licked at the skin of Paige’s stomach, soothing it with her tongue every now and then when she bit a little harshly.

When she glanced up to watch Paige struggle to hold it together Paige’s head fell back almost instantly at the eye contact from that angle.

Azzi somehow knew and felt that if she told Paige to move, to shift, to breathe deeper or softer or stop thinking altogether, she would do it with no questions asked. Something about that made Azzi want her more. Something about having somebody like Paige submissive for her went straight to Azzi’s head.

“Move your hands for me,” Azzi whispered softly as her lips were still brushing against Paige’s stomach.

Paige listened, raising her arms above her head and resting them against the pillow without a single question.Her hands twitched above her head when Azzi sucked harshly over one of her abs leaving a bright mark.

Azzi’s mouth curved into a grin when she felt Paige’s breath catch. “Mm,” she hummed before softly adding, “Good girl.”

Paige opened her eyes at this. “Watch your mouth.”

Azzi mumbled, “Yeah, okay,” clearly not sorry, and clearly not planning to stop. With that same confidence, she slid her hand between Paige’s legs and Paige’s body welcomed the touch like she had been waiting for it.

Azzi slowly eased two fingers into Paige until her palm rested flat against her center. She let Paige adjust to the feeling, letting her hand just linger there before starting slow strokes of her fingers.

She kept her eyes on Paige’s face, watching every small reaction: the twitch in her jaw, the way her throat bobbed when she swallowed, the way her hands that were still obediently tucked above her head grabbed at the pillars of the headboard.

“Still good?” Azzi whispered, her fingers never stopping their rhythm.

Paige blinked her eyes open slowly, jaw tightening for a second before she gave the faintest nod and closed her eyes again. “Y-Yeah…good,” she said, even though her voice was more breath than sound.

Azzi grinned again and leaned down to kiss just below her ribs, her fingers pushing just a little more firmly into Paige. “Good.” She shifted her weight, moving up until she was fully hovering above Paige looking down at the blonde saying, “When’s the last time somebody made you feel good?”

Paige’s eyes fluttered open slowly and when they did they were dazed. Her eyebrows furrowed as if she genuinely had to think. “I don’t know,” she mumbled.

Azzi cocked her head to the side slightly, as she increased the pace of her fingers between Paige’s legs. “You don’t know?”

Paige shook her head, struggling to keep her voice steady with the way Azzi’s fingers were curling into her. “ No I—just don’t usually. Hasn’t been good, so I don’t usually—”

She didn’t get to finish because Azzi’s eased in another finger pressing, right into that soft ache she was building in Paige’s stomach, causing her to suck in a sharp breath.

“Am I good?”

Paige choked on a short, surprised laugh, her head tipping back into the pillow.

Azzi waited for an answer.

Paige nodded, trying to catch her breath.

“Use your words,” Azzi whispered, ghosting her lips along Paige’s jaw.

Paige’s eyes squeezed shut as she exhaled, already starting to unravel. “Shit…yeah. Yeah you’re good.”

Azzi leaned down, capturing Paige’s lips in a messy kiss. The shift in her weight caused her to press into Paige more and she against her mouth with a broken sound that Azzi swallowed as she deepened the kiss.

When Azzi pulled away, it wasn’t for long as she started trailing kisses down the slope of Paige’s jaw to her neck, her lips brushing messily over the sensitive skin, licking and tasting the salt of her flushed skin from sweating slightly in her sleep. Paige’s head rolled to the side against the pillow.

“God, Azzi…please,” she moaned, not even sure what she was begging for. Her voice had dropped to something a little rougher showing just how far gone she was.

Azzi smiled against her neck, letting her tongue glide and suck over her pulse.

“I never felt…fuck, I’ve never—” Paige cut herself off with a sharp inhale when Azzi shifted her leg pressing her fingers deeper into her cervix.

Azzi pulled back to look at her. “You like this?” she asked, just to hear how Paige would respond.

Paige gave a short, breathless laugh that cracked halfway through. “Yeah shit. Love it. You don’t even know—” Another gasp. “Shit I don’t even know what I’m tryna say.”

Azzi tilted her head, watching her unravel with a soft hum. “If I knew I just needed to fuck you to get you talking,” she said, her voice a little arrogant, “I would’ve had you in my bed a lot sooner.”

Paige let out a low laugh at Azzi’s comment, before it was replaced with a moan when Azzi pressed against her stomach. “I’m close.”

Azzi just smiled softly, pressing into the same spot on her stomach as her thumb moved in slow circles and her fingers curled perfectly. The sensation of all three movements caused Paige’s fingers to twitch near her head as she bit her bottom lip. It only took a few more strokes before Paige was gone, her body tensing under Azzi as she came undone with a harsh exhale, her back arching off the bed. Her eyes rolled back and her lips parted as another quiet “fuck” slipped out along with a few other words that Azzi couldn’t make out as she helped her ride out her orgasm.

When it seemed like Paige was done Azzi pulled her fingers out slowly and eased next to her. After a few seconds, Paige let out a chuckle.

Azzi, now nestled in her side, glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

Paige turned her head to look at her, mumbling through the remnants of a grin, “You just bitched me.”

Azzi laughed. “That really wasn’t even that bad.”

Paige shook her head, fluttering her eyes closed again. “Mmm. That’s crazy.”

Silence lingered for a moment as the air between them started to cool down despite their warm skin.

Paige broke the silence with a quiet sigh. “You ruined my sheets.”

Azzi didn’t open her eyes to respond. “We’re not talking about that.”

They just shifted to the other side of the bed that was dry, Azzi maneuvering herself so she was laying halfway on top of Paige, her arm draped loosely over Paige’s stomach and one leg hooked around her thigh.

“I’m just throwing it out there,” Azzi added, “You can’t blame me for what happened. You told me to relax.”

Paige grinned. “Didn’t blame you.”

Azzi propped herself up on one elbow, brushing a few strands of hair off Paige’s forehead. “You kinda did. ‘You ruined my sheets,’” she mimicked. “I’ll buy you new ones.”

“Mm. Make sure you color match ‘em.”

“Obviously.” Azzi grinned and rested her head against Paige’s shoulder again. “You know, for someone who fights for a living, you’re kind of easy to fold.”

That got a small snort out of Paige.

Azzi smiled at the sound, quiet for a second before continuing to talk, “You tired?”

Paige nodded, barely opening her eyes. “Exhausted.”

“Me too. But I still have, like, five more things to say.”

Paige cracked one eye open as she looked down at Azzi. “Say ‘em.”

Azzi sighed into Paige’s neck, “Nah…I’ll save some for the morning.”

Paige didn’t answer this time, just decided to run her fingers along Azzi’s spine in slow lines to settle her down. Sure enough Azzi’s eyes fluttered closed a few seconds later, and the room settled into a peaceful quiet, their breaths falling in sync as the birds outside started chirping.

…

A few hours later Azzi’s body naturally started to stir despite only getting a few hours of sleep. She felt the warmness of someone else’s skin and the tangle of their limbs before her eyes even opened. Bright light filtered through the curtains and it took her a few seconds to adjust. She blinked a few times and eventually her vision cleared enough for her to realize she was still draped across Paige, her cheek pressed against her chest.

Paige was already awake with her eyes fixed on the ceiling and when Azzi lifted her head slightly, her weight shifted enough for Paige to notice. Without looking down, Paige said, “Morning.”

Azzi smiled, her voice slightly raspy. “Good morning.”

Paige didn’t move to look at Azzi and her eyebrows were pinched slightly, something far-off in her expression.

Azzi reached up, gently brushing her thumb between Paige’s eyebrows, smoothing out the crease. “What are you thinking about?”

“My fight.”

Azzi’s fingers paused over her skin. “You think about that every morning?”

Paige’s eyes stayed on the ceiling. “The moment I open my eyes honestly.”

Azzi let her hand move to rest lightly on Paige’s cheek, her thumb brushing against the soft skin. She pressed a kiss to Paige’s jaw, whispering, “You’re allowed to have mornings without it, you know.”

Paige didn’t offer a response right away. Her eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling like she was still thinking about something. Eventually, she said, “I haven’t been able to watch it yet.”

Azzi stayed quiet, letting the words settle as her hand moved slowly, her fingers tracing the line of Paige’s jaw, then brushing lightly over her lower face; her chin, the curve of her mouth, her cheekbone. “Why not?”

Paige let out a breath that sounded like a laugh, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s bad,” she said, dryly. “Feel like pouring bleach in my eye and never stepping foot in the cage again every time I try,” she offered a little dramatically.

Azzi hummed, her thumb still brushing along the edge of Paige’s mouth. “Well…that wouldn’t be very good,” she said, adding a little humor to the situation.

That got a real laugh out of Paige.

Azzi smiled at the sound. “We can watch when we get back to LA,” she offered. “Tonight after I’m done with practice if you want.” There was a pause before she added, “I’ll make sure you don’t pour bleach in those pretty eyes…promise.”

Paige’s lip twitched at the joke. It wasn’t fully a smile, but it hovered to something close. “We don’t gotta do that.”

“We gotta do something,” Azzi said, her tone changing just enough to make Paige glance at her. “Most people wake up a little more gleeful after sex, and I woke up to Oscar the Grouch.”

That earned an eye roll from Paige, but a smile finally broke through as she mumbled, “Whatever bro.”

They laid there in silence for a while just letting the quiet morning wrap around them. Paige had one arm resting behind her head, while Azzi still laid halfway on top of her, tracing shapes on Paige’s forearm.

“Are you coming to my game?” Azzi eventually asked.

Paige tilted her head to glance down at her. “You want me to?”

Azzi shifted enough to meet her gaze. “Yeah. I do…I mean only if you want to though.”

“I was already coming,” Paige said casually. “Just wanted to hear you say you wanted me there.”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “You’re such an asshole.”

“You told me you liked that.”

Azzi sat up and swung one of her legs over to straddle Paige’s waist, her hands finding both of Paige’s wrists and pinning them to the bed. “You got a smart mouth this morning.”

“I had a smart mouth last night too,” Paige replied, smirking a little, “somebody was a lil too busy squirting all over my sheets to notice though.”

Azzi gasped, pretending to be offended and went to smack her, but Paige caught her hand easily and rolled them over making Azzi end up beneath her. Azzi let out a surprised squeal as Paige hovered on top of her, pinning both of her wrists above her head with one hand.

“That’s rude,” Azzi mumbled, squirming a little trying to get out. “That’s twice now you’ve manhandled me.”

“You keeping count?,” Paige asked, grinning at her.

Azzi glared, but she couldn’t hide her smile. “You’re so lucky I kinda like you.”

Paige leaned down a little. “Since we’re admitting things. Don’t know if you knew,” she added casually, “but you’re possessive.”

Azzi blinked in confusion because she’s definitely not, she’d never been jealous in her life.“No, I’m not.”

Paige tilted her head to show two dark marks, one under her jaw and the other on the side of neck, then used her free hand to pull her shirt up revealing a constellation of faint bruises and bite marks on her stomach.

“…Okay. Maybe I’m enthusiastic.”

“Enthusiastic,” Paige repeated. “Sure, let's call it that.”

“I didn’t hear any complaints when I was doing it.”

“I’m not complaining,” Paige said, brushing her nose along Azzi’s jaw. “Just saying next time you wanna mark your territory, maybe let me know so I can stretch my neck first.”

Azzi laughed and let her head fall back into the pillow. “Oh my God, you’re annoying.”

Paige just laughed before flipping them again, not wanting to lay her weight on Azzi. Neither of them wanted to start the day. The bed was warm but Azzi’s phone starting to buzz reminded them that they had to go back to LA.

Azzi was the first to groan and peel herself away from the bed, mumbling something about needing extra time untangle her hair. Paige just hummed as she watched Azzi walk out of the room before letting her eyes flutter shut for a few more minutes before dragging herself to the bathroom.

When Azzi came back, freshly showered and a little more put together, she found Paige in front of the mirror, a toothbrush hanging from her mouth as she looked down at her phone. Her wet hair was down and she had on a sports bra and sweatpants.

Azzi walked over and wrapped her arms around Paige from behind, resting her cheek between her shoulder blades. Azzi closed her eyes and just let herself enjoy the moment before saying, “You gonna be nice to me when we get back?”

Paige leaned forward and spit into the sink before whipping her mouth with a towel. When she was done she turned around, wrapping her arms around Azzi’s waist. When she spoke her voice was low in the way that made Azzi's stomach flutter. “You think I brought you to my family's cabin, walked with you on the beach for hours and carried you back to the car just to turn around and not be nice to you?”

Azzi blinked and her forehead creased as she thought through the logistics. Realizing just how long they'd walked yesterday, and how far back Paige had actually carried her, and how unbothered she’d been about doing it. “Good point.”

Paige smiled at her a little before smacking her ass and kissing her forehead saying, “Alright let’s get outta here.”

[piplup335]

Griefer x reader! (post-Venomshank when he has all the plant stuffs)

*inhale* HELLO, F E L L A S wanted to try writing for block tales lmao, probably gonna open requests for them mb I wanna work on requests but I'm tryna write self-indulgent reqs rn aaaaaa I'm sorry ;-; but yeah uh first time writing for block tales, I'm trying :,D enjoy!

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You were tired of everything that had happened to you so far.

When you were torn out of your timeline so you could go back to the past to help Shedletsky get the SFOTH swords, you really didn't know what to expect. You expected an arduous journey, sure...after all, these swords were the stuff of legend. You knew that much...after all, the swords also existed in your timeline, and you learnt about them before.

You didn't expect...everything else.

When you were first sent to get the Ice Dagger after having a short, grumpy penguin guide you through the ropes of the new world, the journey you went on was predictable, to say the least. Having some old, regal king as the guardian of the sword wasn't unexpected to you, especially because of all the video games you played in your old world. What you didn't expect was how delirious he seemed to be.

Based on what you heard from the villagers living in the kingdom, he was a reasonable and just ruler. No one had any complaints about him, and all respected him for his decisions.

That wasn't reflected in your fight, though.

When you fought him, he seemed to be detached. Paranoid. Cruel King thought you were going to tear down his kingdom, and no amount of talking deterred his insatiable need to cut you down. You had to physically wrestle the Dagger away from him- not the sensible and just king you expected, but a complete and utter lunatic.

You thought it was the end of it, but it wasn't.

Shedletsky then sent you out to Turitopulis to retrieve the Venomshank from Mayor Thanyiel. On the plane ride there, you decided to go prepared and read up on Turitopulis' culture, nature and residents...just so you knew what you were going to be up against. You didn't want to get blindsided by a seemingly normal ruler again.

Upon reaching there, you realised you were probably a bit too late. You saw Mayor Thanyiel...held hostage by a gorilla, commanded by some dude who looked like some edgy teen. He even spoke just like an edgy teen, too- some of his words seemed a bit distorted, but you could somehow understand his speech as leetspeak.

Maybe the Ice Dagger gave you some of the old King's knowledge.

Regardless, you still had a job to do.

You spoke to people in the town, simply wanting to get your job over and done with so you could return to your timeline as soon as possible. But the more you spoke to the people there the more intrigued you were about the place. Gone was your annoyance pertaining to your job

You traversed through the dense forest, careful to prevent any unwanted encounters. The fauna was quite hostile there, after all.

By the time you finally navigated to Griefer's crib, or whatever that place was called, it was already too late for you. You wanted to resolve the situation peacefully, but by then Griefer had already tied his father to the Venomshank and used him to pull the sword from the stone.

Cue a long fight where you had to battle the Venomshank-wielding male...and even after losing, he stabbed himself with the very sword he tried to kill you with.

It didn't end well for either of you.

While you were severely injured, Griefer's fate was much worse. He got transformed into some plant...spider...hybrid monster thing.

Even after purifying your soul to retrieve the Ghostwalker and defeating some ancient god for the Firebrand, when you went back to Turitopulis, he was still in his plant-like form, if not in an even worse state.

When you checked in with Mayor Thaniyel, he mentioned that not only had Griefer not returned to his usual self, but he was also less responsive as the days passed. Barely reacting to his dad's voice. Barely getting up to eat. It was as if his life was withering away day by day like the plants covering his body were consuming him from the inside...so you knew what you had to do.

After a bit of sailing and a trip to the late Kitchen Wizard, you returned to Turitopulis, some onion ring tart in your hands.

Allegedly, based on the cookbook you found at the heart of the jungle, it was supposed to be some cure for Griefer's condition. It worked, thankfully...but only to some extent.

He still had plant-like features around him, but you thought it made him look cooler.

That was when finally...he opened up to you and agreed to join you on your journey to find the rest of the swords.

He told you everything about himself. He mentioned how he was always curious about the Venomshank, how he heard the voices from it just like Blackrock's king...how it controlled his mind and made him do things he never should've done. He told you about how he'd get yelled at by his father every time he tried to bring up the topic of the Venomshank...and everything in between.

For once, he felt safe. He felt like you were someone he could truly trust, and therefore agreed to aid you in your adventure.

Fortunately for you, Shedletsky had no information to give you regarding the other sword guardians, so in the meantime, you could take a break and explore the new world. Despite all that, though, you enjoyed staying in Turitopulis by Griefer's side, getting to know the community better with each passing day. However, you still wanted to return to the Temple of the Red Sun to train and loot the place...which was how you ended up falling for him.

You let out a choked cough. Blood was starting to flood your throat, and you were just a few hitpoints away from dying. With whatever Special Points you had left, you pulled out one last card from your deck.

"Griefer...? If you're there...somewhere...please, help..."

The being...The Ancients, it called itself, stared down at you, its soulless, unmoving eyes never once leaving your wounded form. Calypso lay before you, crumpled up into a heap. She had passed out trying to protect you, just as how Captain Trotter wanted.

She was loyal to him until the very end.

And even then, her loyalty to him was her downfall.

As The Ancients wound up its arms, preparing for one final strike, you squeezed your eyes shut.

You were already in too much pain to move. You just wanted to die quickly so you could respawn and be freed from whatever agonising pain you were in.

Just as The Ancients lunged forward, ready to take away whatever life you had left, you heard some faint rustling as a familiar figure dropped down in front of you. Two pained grunts could be heard from him as he was struck by the two blows that were meant for you.

"...N0T 0N MY W4TCH, PUNK."

The crowbar-wielding male stood in front of you, protecting you from The Ancients.

You glanced up at him, confusion and shock on your face. You had no idea how he got into the temple and found you in such a short amount of time, but you weren't complaining.

"G...Griefer...? You...actually came to help..."

A weak cough escaped your body as you tried to stand up. Getting bashed in multiple times had done quite a number on you, and you almost fell flat on your face.

"...D0N'T PU5H Y0URS3LF."

He knelt down and held out a hand for you to grab. You gratefully accepted his help and pulled yourself back on your feet. Due to your weakened state, however...you stumbled into him.

Griefer, upon seeing your weakened state, instinctively caught you as your legs gave way, not wanting you to fall. What you didn't expect was for him to do so by pulling you against him so you could put your weight on him instead of on your own legs...which resulted in him tightly hugging you to himself.

"I G0T Y0UR B4CK. L3T'5 PWN TH15 5UCK3R T0G3TH3R."

One thing slowly turned into another, though...and on one moonlit night, Griefer ended up asking you out during a leisurely nighttime stroll. By that point, you were completely smitten by him, so you agreed.

Ever since that day, Griefer treated you like a delicate porcelain doll. He offered to take care of you as you recovered from your injuries, offered to do little things for you and always protected you from whatever was out to get you. Once, he even followed you to The Guru so you could get more training by refighting your own embodiment of hatred. Despite you telling him multiple times that you'd be fine since you'd fought it before and could even respawn, he was determined to follow you so you'd come back safe and sound.

On this day, however, you really didn't feel like training. Your body was sore from the excessive practice you did the previous day, and all you wanted to do was take a break for one day.

So what did Griefer do? He decided to pop over to the Turitopulis' Town Inn you were staying at to pay you a visit and spend some quality time with you.

As you lay in bed, your muscles sore from all the combat you did the previous day, you heard a soft click as the door opened. Griefer stood in the doorway, a small bowl in hand.

"H3Y. (Y/N). I M4D3 Y0U S0M3 S0UP. Y0U 5H0ULD H4V3 S0M3, IT'5 G00D F0R Y0U."

Griefer set the container down on your bedside table and opened it. The smell that wafted out and filled the room was heavenly- it smelt delectable, just like the soup your parents always made for you in the past.

Griefer went to the inn's pantry and grabbed a spoon. He picked up the bowl of soup, scooped up some soup and held it to your mouth.

"D0 H4V3 S0M3, D34R35T...Y0U N33D 1T."

You opened your mouth and let Griefer spoon-feed you the soup. It tasted just as good as it smelled, if not even better. The soup was rich and savoury, and it tasted absolutely heavenly.

You instinctively opened your mouth every time he brought the spoon to your lips, gratefully consuming every bit of soup he fed you.

It tasted like familiarity. It tasted like home. It tasted of the good old times when you were safe and secure in the arms of people you cared for.

Now, you were in a new universe. There were so many new things to see. So many things to appreciate. Someone by your side to truly love.

As Griefer continued feeding you the soup, you had a sudden thought.

"...Griefer...? Could we...cuddle, by any chance?"

He paused, a faint hint of pink spreading across his face. Eventually, he relented, setting the bowl back on the bedside table and crawling under the blanket with you.

"...F1N3. C'M3R3..."

Griefer wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. The leaves covering his face and arms tickled a bit, so you squirmed in his grasp to get comfortable.

He buried his face in your shoulder, the leaves on his face brushing against your neck as he lay there, the only sound in the room being the faint hum of the air conditioner and the soft breathing from both of you.

"I'V3 W4NT3D T0 D0 TH15 F0R 4 WH1L3...JU5T L13 D0WN H3R3 W1TH Y0U L1K3 TH15. 1'M GL4D 5H3DL3T5KY H45N'T SENT Y0U 0UT T0 F1ND 4N0TH3R 5TUP1D 5W0RD..."

You lay there in bed, too tired to say a word and too comfortable to move. You never knew how nice it was to get spooned by someone you loved until then. As you let out a soft yawn, Griefer chuckled.

"T1R3D? Y0U 5H0ULD SL33P. Y0U'V3 B33N TR41N1NG 4 L0T R3C3NTLY."

You subconsciously caressed some of the vines that snaked down Griefer's arm, silently adoring his new look. You knew that deep down, Griefer was insecure about the new additions...but you liked them anyway.

As you drifted off to sleep, you felt his hold on you tighten slightly.

"5L33P W3LL, MY L0V3...1'LL 4LW4Y5 PR0T3CT Y0U FR0M WH4T3V3R PUNK TH4T TR135 T0 HURT Y0U."

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and that’s all, fellas! I hope you enjoyed, and I’ll see you guys soon! :D

[natalchartnurtures]

Pick-A-Cat GIF: Why Do People Stare At You?

Let's expose the people who stare at you *evil laughs * hehe

Paid readings now available for everybody!

Intention set for the reading: "I want this to be a feel good pick a card to uplift anybody that comes across it. I want their lower three chakras to get a healing boost after reading this pick a card. I want the messages in here to be clear honest and oh so fun to read.

Thank you so much spirit team for helping me do this and help my collective. I lysm <3

Let's begin!"

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Pile 1:

Ok. You a domestic queen/king/non-binary royal. Even if you don't identify as one.

Why you ask? Because sweetie, there's something DEEPly satisfying about watching you go about your mundane day. Doing your lil mundane chores and things. You give off a cozy Bilbo Baggins typa vibe it's almost as if you seem so content being in your lil bubble and living your life that it begs for the attention of people who struggle with inner peace. This is why a lot of people who stare at you, stare at you. They wanna know your secret formula to what they're calling inner peace, cuz you look like somebody who's sooooo CONTENT with their own life and their own shi- and their own company. Keep in mind that this doesn't necessarily mean your life is inherently good all the time like you could have everything going wrong in your life and still handle it like a damn Pro and come out on the other side feeling better than before. You alchemize. Consciously or not, you do. And you do it naturally. Let me tell you something, this alchemical-bouncing-back-from-anything mentality IS your source of infinite inner peace. People who stare at you actually pick up on this nature of yours on a very subconscious level without even realizing and boy.. do they desperately wanna know your "secret" which is basically your alchemy. Lmao. So good luck to anybody who tries to understand you, they're gonna have a tough time tryna understand alchemy as a muggle

A lil rant: NO shade to anybody who's not on the spiritual journey but hey I gotta call it out EXACTLY how it is. Your wisdom was hard 👏🏾 earned 👏🏾 so it's gonna take MORE than just overnight to understand you and your alchemical nature. Like am I wrong?

End Of Rant

I think you get it by now. Your vibe is why people stare at you. It's like you ✨️bewitch✨️ people with your ability to "never get stressed" (at least on face value) no matter what life seems to throw at you. This tells me that most people who stare at you are people who see you in public spaces fairly regularly (like a class or a park near where you live etc) and they don't know you very well?

You have a lotta strangers taking respite in your beauty. Staring at you could be like an escape almost.. like taking a sip from that well of infinite inner peace .. gosh you have a very beautiful aura pile 1, hehe and I love and adore that.

It seems to me like you're angelic.. a white aura or light blue one almost.. you exude very high vibrational energy which makes sense cuz a lot of high vibe people get stares for simply existing! Cuz they move differently through life.

Pile 1, you take the proverbial road less taken- the path of spiritual alchemy and face your darkness and this allows you to MOVE DIFFERENTLY and respond different to life than most people. This. THIS is why people stare at you. My sweet, <insert your name> 😊

Any physical/personality traits that people admire:

👉🏾 You may look very cute in your overall appearance which makes you VERY endearing to look at haha. You're cute like a hobbit is. Maybe your shorter than average? Love my fellow Short Queens Tehe ✨️

👉🏾 Even tho you seem very cute, you have eyes of a SAGE of like fucking YODA or something cuz goddamn they deep af. People are MESMERIZED by this duality they sense in you. Love to see it.

👉🏾 You have an air of authenticity to you. You care if you really care, don't if you really don't. No BS typa first impressions when people look at you.

👉🏾 You might strong looking g features that's very beautiful. Like strong looking legs, or strong looking hands, or strong facial features too? Your beauty is kinda Tate McRae's if I'm being honest.. that's what I'm picking up on.. it feels so lovely to sit in ><

And with that were done with your reading for today!

Thank you so very much for reading!

I love you soooo much 🫶🏾🫂

Have yourself a nice rest of your day, now and see yaaaaa <3

⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡

Pile 2:

Whoa when I was starting your reading I accidently asked spirit "What makes my pile number 2s attractive?" instead of "What makes people stare at my pile 2s?"

So you have your answer right there.

People stare cuz you is attractive ok? 💅🏾 I'm getting a strong vibe that you already know this but kinda don't care? Cuz like there's more to you than meets the eye (kinda like in the case of Marilyn Monroe) and you seem to know this too so you're like "yea ik I'm cute, whatever" haha I love itttt sooo much. You a lil miss diva ✨️

Have you ever heard of Brown Magic by Twinjabi? It's BLASTING in my ears as I'm channeling for you right NOW lol this is, again, pointing to me how people find you really attractive.

~Oh and keep in mind, you don't have to be a brown girl to relate to the song :p ~

It's ridiculous how many pages you got all at once. This is telling me that you have this child-like vibe to you. You seem carefree and ~oh so~ positive in the way you look at things, at life. Your energy seems very light just like a child. You embody your inner child really well and this CATCHES people's attention like it's nobody's bussiness. You could really do a lot of work around healing your inner child and your connection to her/him which is helping you sustain your natural curiosity, wonder for life and that pure essence.. Alot of people who stare at you do so cuz they've most probably lost touch with their own inner children. They look to you as a source of light that they struggle to connect with themselves.

And you know what that means-

You trigger people ALOT.

You get stares from some people who are jealous of you and want what you have (your connection to your inner child and GodSource) but WITHOUT putting in the work necessary like excuse me?! Back off. My dear sweet <insert your name> doesn't need your stank ass energy rn.

This. This right here is why you also have a very strong field of divine protection around you. And because you're so protected, you have this untouchable reputation which is ironically why people like to stare at you. They feel like staring at you is the only way they can be close to you. Gosh.

You are naturally a very open and welcoming person but spirit makes sure your safe WHILE being so open and trusting of life and people which is why very few (best of the pack) people are allowed into your "circle" so to speak. Love that for you 😌✨️

You seem to have a very strong root chakra, pile 2. People stare at you cuz you give off "rich girl/guy vibe" (don't matter if you are actually financially comfortable or not) it's just. your. VIBE. It's very abundant because of that open and functioning root chakra! So whatever work you've been doing just know that's it's PAYING OFF really nicely heheheheh (good job pile 2! Root chakra work ain't easy)

Any physical/personality traits that people admire:

👉🏾 Your. HAIR.

👉🏾 If you wear red you may feel like people can't take thier eyes off you BECAUSE THEY ACTUALLY CAN NOT. You rock red like nobody's bussiness tehe ❤️

👉🏾 Not just red, any kind of dark feminine aesthetic like black cat makeup, edgy/alternate aesthetics or darker clothes etc brings out your beauty and people who stare at you can't get enough of that lmao

👉🏾 You have a earthy vibe which makes you feel very pleasing to look at (in a luxurious way)

👉🏾 People might find it hard to recognize your ethnicity or your accent cuz you give ethnically ambiguous in the best, most attractive of ways ✨️

And with that were done with your reading for today!

Thank you so very much for reading!

I love you soooo much 🫶🏾🫂

Have yourself a nice rest of your day, now and see yaaaaa <3

⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡

Pile 3:

You have the 9 of pentaches and the empress out as your first two cards. Need I say more?

You are STUNNING to look at. You wear amazing clothes. You're in your divine feminine energy, hell, you COMMAND energy like an EMPRESS does.

The power you hold is exactly why people stare at you.

They can't help but stare at you. Bro, your energy BECKONS for attention even if you don't want it.

I'm getting a feeling that you like to stay low key and just chill like because I'm getting a very Miss Independent vibe from you which is well deserved because you know how to get ish DONE 💅🏾 you're responsible like that. But it's this I'm-in-my-bubble-don't-BOTHER-me typa energy is why people I heard- are obsessed with you. People stare out of obsession.

They wanna observe every move you make cuz it's just that mesmerizing. Some people who stare at you may have have crushes on you or secretly admire you (platonic/romantic)

There's a deep respect that the people who stare at you, have for you. It's like they look to you for some kinda inspiration, depending on who is staring.

I'm also getting that you may move like deer, graceful. You may love to vibe out to your own energy.

You also know who to let in and who to keep away. You can SMELL bullshit from a mile away and keep that the fuck out.

This is some bad bitch energy, pile 3! I'm so pumped rn sitting in your energy!

Wow ok I'm getting a very specific message now. People stare at you so they can learn more about you? They wanna know what makes you tick (maybe there's somebody in your surrounding who wants to shoot theur shot with you?) Lol that's kinda cute.

But yea you have this free sprinted, wild feminine energy. You'll do what you want, when you want. You're the definition of never let them know your next move and BOY do I love that for you <3

You are a very interesting person. Cuz you're you. You're not afraid of expressing exactly how you feel and this makes you are really enjoyable to be around and so people stare at you cuz they enjoy how you come across- unabashed in your self expression and unapologetic in your authenticity!

Ahhhhhhh this some Queen Shi-

I'm so honoured to be reading for you rn!

You must also have your boundary game strong cuz I'm getting that you can easily cut people off if they don't come correct and people enjoy how authentic you are.

You're giving me MAD Tyla energy rn man. You could maybe even look her? Idk but whatever you look like trust me. People love to stare.

Hehe 🤭

People enjoy watching you take action. Lemme explain. If you're in school people love to stare at you while you're working on a project or something or just in class, taking notes n stuff. You have a way about you that's so addicting, man, people who's stare at you don't wanna stop 👀💀 like hello stop burning holes on my body from the intense staring? Excuse me like huh?

If you're at work, some of your colleges could stare at you out of admiration or simply cuz they have a crush on you (or your work ethic?) Or how you dress 🙃

Whatever it is you tend to pour your authenticity into everything you do. Small, big. Doesn't mattter. You do life in YOUR own (divine) way and that's awesome!

You the shit pile 3, I hope you know that.

Any physical/personality traits that people admire:

👉🏾 Your clothes!

👉🏾 You! Yes you read that right, you in your entirety, in your full essence is what people admire. It's your physical beauty. It's your intelligence. It's your taste in music and movies. Your hobbies. Your authenticity. Everything about you, girlie, is fantastic.

👉🏾 Your independence

👉🏾 Your courage to choose joy over fear

👉🏾 Your wisdom

👉🏾 Your ability to enjoy being alone

👉🏾 Your sense of dedication and devotion (to whatever you choose to give it to)

And with that were done with your reading for today!

Thank you so very much for reading!

I love you soooo much 🫶🏾🫂

Have yourself a nice rest of your day, now and see yaaaaa <3

⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡

[satrs]

i've had this headcanon of caleb and mc for SO LONG where they're both fighting over dominance during sex bc they're both FREAKS. They're like constantly flipping each other over to get them to succumb to the pleasure but they keep fighting LMAO. I highkey need a full fic of this

YAAAASSS!!!! I can already envision the fucking mess bc they props trash the whole damn house LMAO. Okokok so lemme cook smt up for ya nonnie....

It alwayssss starts with something stupid.

Tonight? A playful shove after a snarky comment. Caleb's mouthing off, teasing you during training, 'helping' you with your form wayyy to often, whispering filth against your ear with that cocky smirk he wears like a second skin.

Once you're home Caleb leans in, one hand on the wall behind your head, the other slipping down your waist like he owns the path. “You’ve been mouthing off alllll day," he murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “You tryna' get me riled up?”

“You think I need to try?”

Then you shove him. Hard.

He stumbles, just a step, but it’s enough. Enough to snap the tension and set everything off like a match to gasoline.

He’s on you before you even finish the sentence, hands on your waist, mouth crashing into yours, teeth clashing, tongues fighting.

You claw at his shirt as he presses you into the wall, dragging his lips down your jaw to your throat, biting hard enough to leave bruises.

He grabs your wrists and slams them above your head, pinning you there with one hand. “Gonna behave?” he asks, voice all gravel and sin.

“You wish,” you spit, and break his grip, twisting your body and shoving him back instead, flipping the positions in one savage motion.

Caleb hits the wall with a gasp, and you’re on him, teeth sinking into his lower lip, hips grinding against his hard cock through his sweatpants. His hands dig deep into your hips, bruising.

You don’t make it to the bed.

The two of you stumble into it, ripping clothes as you go, bumping into furniture, knocking a lamp off the table, just making a big ol' mess.

Caleb’s shirt is shredded, your pants are halfway down your thighs, and neither of you gives a fuck. Your hands fight for skin like they’ll die without it.

He tackles you to the mattress, climbing over you. You snarl, wrap your legs around his waist, and roll, flipping him onto his back swiftly. You pin him down, straddle his hips and press your hand against his chest.

He whines—whines—like you’ve stabbed the air out of him. His hands come up to grip your thighs, but you grab his wrists and slam them down beside his head.

“Nuh uhhh,” you tease, grinding against his cock through your soaked panties. “Gonna fuck you dumb tonight, Cay'.”

“Try me,” he snaps, and then his evol lets you fload, loosing sense of gravity before he takes the chance and flips you back.

His hand pins you to the sheets, hips grinding against yours as he bites into your shoulder. “I love you, baby, but you talk too much,” he breathes into your ear. “Wanna have you moaning more.”

He tears your panties off and slides two fingers in without warning, curling just right against your gushing spot for your back to arch up into his chest. “F-fuck—Caleb—”

“That’s it,” he whispers, wrist slamming against your aching clit violently. “Cat caught your tongue, huh?”

Oh, how wrong he is.

You reach up, grab him by the hair and yank, forcing his head back. “Gotcha.” you giggle, grip tightening on the russet hair. You hook your leg around his hip and flip him again, slamming him onto his back before straddling him with a wild, furious grin.

And once you free his aching cock in a hurry and slam onto it with one deep roll of those dedicated hips of yours, you both let out a loud moan.

“Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck!,” he groans, fists grabbing at your thighs,

You ride him like vengeance, grinding your hips to make sure he feels everything.

His hands keep trying to take control over the situation by grabing your waist, your tits, your throat— anything, but you swat them away every time, slamming down onto his thighs, burying his cock into the depths of your snug cunt.

“Touch me again,” you growl, each bounce of yours making you slip further and further over the bridge of sanity, “and I’ll tie you down.”

“Oh fuck—do it. Fuckin' do it, baby."

He answers instantly, fingers iching as they threaten to grap your thighs out of spite. But just as he's about to, you slap his chest and grind down onto him harder, rougher, dragging your nails down his torso, watching his abs flex beneath your touch.

But he’s not done either.

He surges up, grabbing you by the waist, and slams you onto your back, legs over his shoulders. His thrusts are brutal and deep, every stroke knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“Gonna— gonna come for me, yeah?” he says, panting, voice breaking. “Can feel you squeezing—fuckkkk—you’re close.”

You bite his shoulder, desperate to not give him the satisfaction of dwelling in his victory.

“Gimmie all of it, want it all,” he growls, and he ruts into you until his tip knocks at your cervix.

It's so damn loud and messy, bed creaking, headboard banging against the wall, sweat dripping from his neck to your chest.

And as his thumb finds your clit and circles the bud meanly, you scream.

You both cum violently, body spasming, legs shaking, your nails ranking down his back in one last attempt for dominance.

And you know it's not over when you feel that faint smirk against your shoulder and a slight thrust into your stuffed hole.

He kisses your shoulder, then bites it, licking over the mark soothingly. “You ready for round two, pips?”

©︎𝙎𝘼𝙏𝙍𝙎 2025. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[animamii]

Hit Different | Eren Jaeger 𝜗𝜚 part deux

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ Eren meets his match when Ymir's cousin crashes into his life. Classic playboy meets maneater. ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

𖹭.ᐟ modern aot verse! college au!

.・゜✧﹒☁﹒✧゜・．.・゜✧﹒☁﹒✧゜・．.・゜✧﹒☁﹒✧゜・．.・

The sun is a personal attack. Why the hell does it have to be so damn bright right now? You groan, burrowing deeper into the mess of blankets, only to realize—you don’t remember getting into bed. Hell, you barely even remember leaving the party. Your head throbs in protest as you peel open your eyes, met with unfamiliar floral-patterned sheets and a very judgmental Ymir sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, scrolling through her phone.

“Look who’s finally up,” she monotonously spews, not even glancing at you, just tap, tapping away at her phone. “Thought I was gonna have to throw water on you.”

You blink, sluggish, trying to piece together the events of last night. “Where am I?” Your voice is hoarse, like you swallowed an entire desert. You somehow still taste tequila on your tongue, with the little remnants of your pineapple juice chaser.

"Our guest room, dumb ass. Had to carry your ass in here when you passed out in our bed after I dragged your ass out of that party.” Ymir finally looks up, raising a sharp brow. “Speaking of—what the fuck was that with Eren?”

Your stomach does an annoying little flip, but you mask it with a slow stretch, feigning nonchalance. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”

Ymir scoffs. “Oh, please. The sexual tension in that kitchen could’ve powered the whole damn party.” She looks at you with an obvious look on her face, as if to say, 'don't fuckin play in my face like I'm stupid and blind'. “Dude was looking at you like he wanted to either fuck you or fight you. Maybe both.”

You snort, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You notice your lashes were taken off, now on the dresser next to you. “Not my fault he’s got a staring problem.”

"Right. So you just happened to flirt with Jean all night while Eren practically set him on fire with his mind?"

Before you can answer, Historia walks in looking suspiciously awake for someone who was blackout drunk last night. She holds out a bottle of water and some aspirin like she does this every weekend. "You look like shit," she chirps.

"Good morning to you too," you mumble, snatching the water and chugging it.

“Did you check your phone yet?” Historia asks, perching on the bed beside you as she holds out the tiny pain killers. Taking them from her hand, you toss them into your mouth, swallowing quickly.

A slight sense of dread creeps in. “No? Why?”

Ymir smirks, flipping her phone screen toward you, showing a group chat notification. Connie added Eren to 'Brunch, Bitches'. You groan at the sight of the name, flopping back onto the pillows. Of course. Because why wouldn’t fate be a petty little shit?

Meanwhileeee— Eren wakes up to a headache and text from Connie like he does every Sunday morning.

Connie: Lmao, you tryna get brunch? Eren: Why the fuck would I do that? Connie: Bc ur little crushy crush is gonna be there 😉 Eren: Blocked Connie: Damn bro just pull up, it’ll be fun

Eren stares at his phone, jaw tight, remembering the way you looked at him last night—how you didn’t look at him until the very last second. His grip tightens on his phone. Fuck it.

Connie: Yo, brunch at that spot on 3rd? You guys down?

Ymir: I’m always down for food, babe. But don't tell me we're going to that weird place again with the mismatched plates.

Eren: 😑 It’s good. Stop being a snob.

Connie: I’ll pass on the weird plates place if you bring your cousin,, I still don’t have her number lol

Ymir: lmao what do you mean you don’t have her number?

Connie: Yeahhhh I haven't actually talked to her much,, she kinda makes me scared 😅

Eren: 🙄 You mean you're scared she’ll turn you down like the others?

Connie: Stfu says the one who threw a tantrum cuz she was flirting with Jean ✋🏽🤨

Eren: ... I'm bouta leave ts.

Connie: Yeah that's what I thought ho!

Ymir: ugh. you two stop being dramatic. I'll bring her if she's not too dead

Ymir added y/n to Brunch, Bitches

Connie: Sounds good to me. Jean can’t make it,, btw. He has work. Told him to leave his ass at the office 🙄

Eren: His loss. Those pancakes are gonna smack, I'm ready asl.

Ymir: same. you guys better be on time this time. 😒

Connie: No promises 🙈😜😚😚🦧

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

"So we're all just showing up in pajamas huh?" Ymir stands in the doorway of the room, watching as you lazily curl your lashes, leaning against the headboard in their room.

"Yup," you answer, picking up your mascara and applying a coat. "Besides, this is a track suit. It's like multipurpose."

Ymir raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she leans against the doorframe. “A track suit, huh? I mean, I guess it does have boujie y2k bitch written all over it...”

You smile, finishing the last stroke of mascara and setting the wand back in the tube with a twist. “Exactly. It's basically brunch attire and I could probably go for a run after if I felt like it. Double duty, extra fruity.”

She snorts, shaking her head as she pushes herself off the door frame. “Yeah, sure, but I’m pretty sure the only thing you’re running for today is the nearest mimosa.”

"And you're running into the nearest Hot Topic wearing that damn flannel and sweats." You playfully quip back, tossing the pillow on your lap at your cousin.

"Somebody say something about my flannel?" Historia's soft voice rings into the room as she steps out of the bathroom, hands busy tying her hair into a messy bun. Her eyes are wide and confused, making you smile at her naivety.

Your eyes dart down to the flannel pajama bottoms she wears. "Can you two get any gayer?? Matching flannel to brunch? Really?"

Ymir lets out a bellow, her hand resting on the back of Historia's neck as she kisses the top of her head, causing Historia's eyes to shut as she beams a content smile. "Mad cause we're in loooooveeee?"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, lesbians. I'd be gay too if I had a choice," you roll your eyes sardonically as you stand up and slip your uggs on.

"Oh hell no, we don't need any evil femmes. Regina George is that cautionary tale. Stay being straight, the male population needs their repercussions."

You laugh, zipping your sweater up halfway. "I think the world is far better off with a few evil femmes, if I’m being honest. Less competition, more fun."

Ymir grins, lazily shoving her feet into her sneakers. "Exactly. You get it."

Historia chuckles softly from where she stands by the bathroom mirror, finishing up with her hair. "You look like you stepped out of a 2000's paparazzi photo."

You shoot her a dirty look but can’t suppress the childish smile that creeps onto your face. "Yeah, well, at least I’m not going out looking like a damn lumberjack." You point a finger between the two girls.

Ymir twirls around dramatically, causing the flannel to swish with her movement. "Heyyy, leave my lumberjack alone, you know she loves to climb trees."

"Gross, I don't wanna hear my cousin say nasty flirty shit with her girlfriend, Miri. Save your kinky lumberjack fantasy for the bedroom." You hold a hand up as you step out of the couple's room.

Ymir bursts out laughing, following you down the hallway, while Historia’s face flushes a soft pink. "You're the one who started it," Ymir teases, nudging you with her elbow.

You groan dramatically. "Yeah, well, I should’ve known better than to walk into this disaster of a relationship." Throwing yourself onto their couch, you mindlessly scroll through your phone. “Why does it always feel like I’m the third wheel?”

"Because you are our third wheel?" Ymir says like it's obvious, which it is really. "But it's okay we don't mind being a tricycle sometimes." Taking a seat at the other end of the couch, she props her feet up on your lap.

Historia follows behind Ymir, still trying to hide her smile. "We’re not that bad, are we?"

"You're like an over-the-top romcom couple," you retort, rolling your eyes playfully. "But like, one of those ones that you can’t fully hate because they’re just so damn cute."

Ymir, who’s still grinning, tosses a pillow at you. "Hey, we’re adorable, and you know it."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." You place the pillow under Ymir's feet, not wanting her beat up converse to dirty the gray cotton sweats you were wearing. You were going for low effort, not slob. "Just don’t bring your cheesy couple energy into brunch. I’m not in the mood to be the only one single at the table."

"Oh, please, you’ll be just fine," Historia says with a wink as she slides her crocs on. "And besides, who says you have to stay single? You’ve got options. Plenty really. If you actually stopped with these maneater shenanigans." She nudges you gently, giving you a look more serious than you'd like.

You scoff, locking your phone and tossing it aside, letting it bounce on the couch before it finds a snug spot by Ymir's leg. "Maneater shenanigans? Excuse me, I prefer to call it ‘strategic non-attachment.’ Sounds way more sophisticated." Your nose sticks up in the air in a playfully bratty way, lips forming into a pout.

Historia rolls her eyes as she zips up her sweater, the ziiiiip sound loud just to be extra dramatic. "Sounds like a fancy way to say ‘terrified of commitment.’"

Ymir hums in agreement, stretching her arms behind her head. "Right? Like, you’re out here collecting numbers like Pokémon cards, but let a dude actually like you, and suddenly, it’s ‘ew, feelings.’" She sticks her tongue out in fake disgust as she mocks your tone, making you roll your eyes.

You lazily point at her, feigning offense. "First of all, rude, I don't sound like that at all, cunt. Second of all, you know my philosophy; love is a scam, and I refuse to be a victim."

Historia snorts, grabbing her bag, the plethora of keychains clanging together and making an off-sound symphony of metal, letting anyone in a mile radius know that she picked it up. "Tell that to Eren, who was practically following you around at the party like a lost puppy."

"He’s a player, remember? He’s got a new flavor of the week by now, I’m sure." Your face stays neutral, but the way you grab your phone a little too quickly does not go unnoticed by the girls' sharp eyes. "Anyway," you say, standing up, "we should go before Connie loses his damn mind. He’s already sent, like, three where are you texts."

Ymir smirks, but doesn’t push the topic. "Fine, fine. Let’s roll out, Breakfast Club."

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“Dude, you look like hell.”

Eren groans, standing in Connie’s kitchen, nursing a lukewarm fruit punch Gatorade like it's the last drop of hydration on earth. His hoodie is wrinkled, his hair a mess, and he still reeks faintly of last night’s Hennessy and bad decisions. He'd still be knocked out at home if he wasn't so abruptly woken up by said friend calling him a dozen times.

"Thanks," Eren mutters, feeling like his eye bags were physically weighing him down. "Exactly the kind of encouragement I needed. I shouldn't even be up this damn early."

"It’s literally noon," Connie says flatly, biting into his bagel, cream cheese spilling out of the sides. "And last night? You were gone, man. Like, barely forming sentences. You kept staring at y/n like you wanted to kidnap her ass and lock her in your basement."

Eren scoffs, taking a sip of his drink. "Was not."

"You so were," Connie says, pointing at him with his half-eaten bagel. "And let’s talk about that, actually. You’ve got that look in your eye—like she’s your next target."

Eren rolls his eyes, placing his hands on the counter to steady himself. "She’s not a target, dumbass. She’s just—" He pauses, searching for the words. "She just seems... interesting."

Connie snorts, finding the way Eren stares off into space a tad bit comical and so dramatic in a way only Eren can get away with. "So, what? You wanna wife her up now?"

Eren makes a face. "What? No. I haven’t even talked to her like that yet." He shakes his head as if he's trying to not imagine the thought of him actually, seriously pursuing you. "She’s just… different, y’know? It’s like a challenge."

Connie raises an eyebrow. "So, this is, what, a side quest for you?" Connie would never be one to admit it, but he was rooting for Eren to finally find love, and to finally stop being a damn fuckboy. He was tired of getting at girls only for them to tell him that they had their heart broken by his friend, Eren always leaving a mark on every single one of his hookup's hearts. He just wanted to meet one girl on campus that hadn't fucked Eren.

Eren smirks, leaning his elbows against the counter. "More like a boss level. She’s not like the usual girls. She’s got that whole I don’t give a fuck attitude, and you know I live for that shit." Eren always wanted things he couldn't have.

"So, let me get this straight," Connie says, licking some cream cheese off his thumb. "You’re telling me you spent all night trying to get her attention, and you still couldn’t bag a conversation with her?"

Eren clicks his tongue, looking annoyed and pouty. "It’s not that I couldn’t, it’s just—" He exhales sharply, that familiar frustration from last night coming back for a second. "She was talking to Jean all night. Didn't even glance at me. And then Historia got too drunk, and boom, she was gone before I even got the chance."

Connie bursts out laughing, finally someone was doing what Eren does to him, swooping in on the girl he wants. "Damn. She really curved you before you even got the chance to spit game?"

Eren glares, thick brows furrowing. "Shut up."

"Nah, man, this is hilarious," Connie wheezes. "Playboy Eren Jaeger finally meets a girl who doesn’t immediately fall into his lap? What’s next? Are you gonna start writing music about her?"

Eren rolls his eyes. "You’re so fucking annoying."

"Nah, you’re annoying," Connie shoots back. "’Cause I know you’re gonna spend all brunch trying to get her attention, and if you strike out again, I’m gonna have to sit there and witness the secondhand embarrassment."

Eren smirks, shaking his head. "Not happening."

"Mhmm. So what’s the plan, lover boy?" Connie asks, raising his eyebrows.

Eren grins, finishing his Gatorade and tossing the empty bottle into the trash. "Easy. I just gotta get her to talk to me. Once that happens? Game over."

Connie hums, finding Eren's words a bit deluded. "Man, I dunno. y/n’s like a you but hotter and meaner. You might be out of your league on this one."

Eren just chuckles, grabbing his keys. "There’s no such thing as out of my league, Connie."

Connie shakes his head, shoving the last of his bagel in his mouth. "Aight, bet. Let’s see how that works out for you."

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Connie picked the perfect spot for a hungover brunch, with the diner being less than busy for a Suday afternoon. The last thing you needed was a packed restaurant full of clanking dishes and obnoxious conversations stabbing through your skull. The scent of coffee and syrup lingers in the air, making your tummy rumble since you hadn't eaten since before yesterday's party. The hostess barely looks up from her tablet when Ymir announces the reservation, tapping at the screen with the kind of dead eyed exhaustion that says she’s one wrong order away from walking out mid shift.

"Ugh, why is it so bright in here?" you groan, slipping your sunglasses onto your face as the three of you follow the hostess to your table. Your feet shuffle against the floor, still wishing you were wrapped up in the heavy duvet in Ymir and Historia's guest room.

"Because it’s daytime, dumbass," Ymir snickers, sliding into the booth with Historia next to her. With a sigh you plop yourself beside Historia, slumping against the plush backing of the booth as if it might absorb your exhaustion. The other side is left empty—reserved for the two idiots who were, as expected, late.

"You’re acting like you weren’t up just as late as I was," you shoot back, lazily flipping through the laminated menu before going straight to the real priority: alcohol. "I need a drink. Immediately."

As if on cue, Connie and Eren show up, strolling toward the table with that casual, 'we definitely didn’t wake up on time but we made it' energy. Connie walks with his usual pep in his step, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket, looking entirely too pleased with himself for someone who failed at punctuality. while Eren lags behind, looking annoyingly good for someone who was supposedly as hungover as you.

"Would you look at this," Connie announces, sliding into the seat across from Ymir. "The brunch bitches, in the flesh."

"You’re late," Historia points out, arching an eyebrow. Leave it to Connie to be late to something he planned.

"I told you no promises that I'd be on time," Connie dismisses with a limp wave. "We’re here now, and that’s what matters."

You don’t miss the way Eren’s eyes flick toward you as he sits across from you, that lazy smirk playing at his lips. Is this boy always smirking? He doesn’t say anything yet, just leans back in his seat, sizing you up like he’s trying to figure out the best way to approach. You don’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him for more than a second. Instead, you tap your fingers against the menu, eyes scanning over it even though you already know exactly what you want.

"So," you say, flipping the menu shut. "What’s everyone drinking? Because I am not doing this brunch sober." The first thing you do is order a mimosa, needing some sort of substance to numb the shitty feeling your body still harbored.

"Real shit," Ymir agrees, already knowing what's in order. "Mimosas all around?"

"Mimosa tower all around," Historia corrects, already flagging down the waiter with dainty hand.

"That’s my girl," you grin, nudging her shoulder with approval. There’s a silent understanding between you two; brunch isn’t brunch unless you leave a little tipsy.

The server swings by, takes everyone’s orders, and the conversation flows easily—mostly Connie, half-hungover and half-buzzed off life, trying to tell some barely coherent story about a girl he almost picked up last night.

"Bro, she looked just like Jade from Victorious," he insists, hands moving dramatically to prove his point.

Historia gives him a flat look, her usual wide doe eyes now hooded. "You say that about every girl with dark hair and a little eyeliner."

"That’s not even true—"

"It is true," Ymir interjects, rolling her eyes. "Last week it was that bartender at Sina’s. Week before that? The girl at the campus library."

"Okay, but this one really looked like her. Like actually," he tries to defend himself.

"Sure, Connie, sure." Historia nods, knowing how many times he had said this same thing before.

"You have a type," you say in a simple voice, reassuring him . "Own it."

Eren, though? He’s been biding his time, waiting for the right moment. And the second there’s a lull in the conversation, he leans forward, finally addressing you directly.

"So, you," he starts, and you slowly drag your gaze to him. His hair is messy, looking a bit greasy as a few strands fall over his forehead. Who does he think he is? Zayn?

"Me?" you say flatly, feigning disinterest as you take the mimosa flute from the server, keeping your lidded eyes glued on his. Looking away would make Eren feel like he had one up on you in this little staring contest.

"You," he repeats, resting his forearms on the table, emerald eyes locked onto yours. "Tell me something."

"Tell you what, Jaeger?" You take a slow, savoring sip of your drink.

He smirks, realizing you know his name without him ever introducing himself. "Oh, so you do know who I am," Eren smugly drawls, tapping a finger against the table. His posture goes more lax, legs spreading as if he's soaking up the ego that he lost last night.

Your face doesn’t give anything away, but inside, a flicker of irritation sparks. The way he’s looking at you—like he thinks he has the upper hand just because you acknowledged his name—sets something stubborn alight in your chest.

You take a slow sip of your mimosa, letting the bubbles fizz on your tongue before answering. "It’s hard not to when half the girls at that party were either throwing themselves at you or talking about how you used to throw yourself at them." Your memory reels to the blonde girl from last night, calling out Eren's name like he was some sort of damn celebrity.

Connie chokes on his drink, almost spewing his coffee all over the table. Ymir whistles lowly as her eyes dart between you and Eren. Historia presses her lips together, clearly entertained and loving every single moment of this.

Eren tilts his head, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he chuckles lowly. "Damn. You really came out swinging, huh?" He realizes his reputation precedes him, probably making his conquest of you just a little more difficult.

You lift a shoulder in a lazy shrug, setting your glass down with a soft clink. "Just calling it like I see it."

Historia, biting back a smirk, lifts her mimosa to her lips. Ymir’s grin is damn near feral. And Connie? He’s straight up beaming, like he’s witnessing the most entertaining drama of the century unfold before his very eyes.

Eren doesn’t look deterred, though. If anything, he looks even more interested. His elbow rests on the table as he leans in slightly, his gaze on you even more intense, as if that were even possible. "You keep talking like you’ve got me all figured out."

"Oh, I don’t need to figure you out," you reply smoothly, tilting your head with faux sympathy. "You’re a blueprint, Jaeger. Same old story, different haircut."

Connie loses it. "Bro, she just called you a template! A damn copy-paste ass—"

"Alright, alright," Eren cuts him off, but there’s no real bite to his tone. He’s still smirking, still looking at you like you’re a challenge he's determined to win. "I gotta admit, you got a sharp mouth."

"Comes in handy." You wink, picking up your drink again.

"And here I thought you'd at least pretend to be nice to me."

"Oh, Eren," you sigh dramatically, fluttering your lashes. "I don’t pretend for men."

Ymir wheezes. Historia’s dying. Connie is pounding the table with laughter, while Eren just sits back, shaking his head with that same smirk that hasn't left his face.

"You’re fun," he muses, eyes flicking over you, soaking in every detail. "I like fun." His tongue runs over his teeth as one of his arms slings over the top of the pleather booth lining.

"And I like my mimosa," you quip, raising your glass. "So let’s keep this professional, yeah?" You flash him a toothy smile and he would almost say you looked angelic if your attitude towards him wasn't the opposite.

Eren watches you take a sip, something unreadable flashing across his face. Whatever it is, it disappears quickly, replaced with something more playful. "Yeah, yeah. Sure. We’ll see about that."

Connie wipes a fake tear from his eye. "Goddamn, this brunch was worth it." This is exactly why Connie planned this little get together.

The mimosa tower arrives in all its bubbly glory, and Historia immediately starts pouring like she was born to be a rich housewife. She generously pours champagne from the tower's spout and asks everyone what juice they'd like. With the precision of a seasoned bartender (or maybe just a girl who’s been to one too many brunches), starts pouring everyone their custom mimosas.

“Alright, speak now or forever hold your juice preference,” she announces, tapping the spout like she’s about to make a life changing mixology decision. Large pitchers of different juices are lined up in front of her, waiting to be mixed with the bitter bubbles of champagne.

“Orange, obviously,” Ymir says, leaning back in her habitual manner, she could always get comfortable wherever she was, sprawled out like she's on her living room couch.

“Boring,” Historia mutters but obliges anyway, filling Ymir’s glass with the classic.

“Mango,” you say, watching as she pours the golden liquid. She makes yours strong, basically serving you champagne with a splash of mango flavor. Not that you're complaining though, you wanted to get tipsy.

“Classy,” Historia muses before turning to Connie. “You?”

He grins, his eyes scanning over the line up of juice options. “Mix ‘em. I’m feeling chaotic.” You don't know whether to scrunch your nose up in disgust or be impressed by Connie's idiotically genius idea.

Historia rolls her eyes but does it anyway. “Living on the edge, Springer.” His mimosa turns into a dark muddled purplish color.

“Always,” Connie quips, lifting his glass dramatically before taking a sip and nodding in satisfaction.

Then, finally, it’s Eren’s turn. He’s been quiet, just watching, observing, but now he leans forward slightly, lazily tilting his head toward you. “I’ll take whatever she’s having,” he says, eyes looking at the way you hold the champagne flute, making it wonder how your hand would look wrapped around his—

Ymir snorts. “Of course you will.”

You arch a brow at him over the rim of your glass, your lip curling slightly. “Copy-pasting my drink order too now?”

Eren doesn’t even blink. Just smiles at you, taking the glass Historia hands him. “What can I say? I like good taste.”

Historia fake gags. “God, please don’t flirt in front of my mimosa tower. It deserves better.” She downs half her drink like she’s washing away the secondhand embarrassment before refilling her flute with even more champagne and a splash of pineapple juice.

The table dissolves into laughter, the kind that feels warm and familial—like the collective, unspoken agreement that, yes, all of you may be hungover disasters, but at least you’re in it together. Connie and Historia start arguing over whether brunch food is overrated, with Ymir inserting herself into the debate just to get under Historia’s skin. Meanwhile, you feel Eren’s eyes on you every so often, like he’s still turning your words over in his head, still trying to crack whatever code he thinks you are. But you don’t look at him much. He doesn’t get that satisfaction of holding your attention longer than necessary. Instead, you lean back, sip your mimosa, and let the chaotic symphony of your friends fill the space.

"Alright, let’s toast," Connie raises his frankenstein of a mimosa up in the air.

"To what?" you ask with a lifted brow as you slowly raise your champagne flute.

Connie shrugs, trying to think of something clever. "Surviving another night of our dumbassery. And to, uh… new friendships?" He waggles his eyebrows between you and Eren, clearly trying to stir the pot.

Eren meets your gaze over the rim of his glass. He still has that look—the one that says he’s not done with you yet. You don’t react, just clink your mimosa against his without breaking eye contact. It was fun playing this little push and pull game, even if you were mostly pushing.

"Cheers," you say smoothly, a tiny hint of a sly smile on your face.

"Cheers," Eren echoes, mirroring your expression.

The table drinks, and for a brief moment, everything is peaceful—until Connie decides he needs all the attention again.

"So, get this," Connie starts, already grinning. "Eren and I had the most bullshit morning trying to get here."

"Oh god," Ymir mutters. "This better be good."

Connie rubs his hands together. "Picture this. I wake up, head pounding, mouth drier than the goddamn Sahara. I roll over, check my phone, and see like, five texts from you guys asking if I'm alive, and I’m like, ‘oh shit, we should link up and do brunch!’"

"Five texts isn’t even that much," Historia points out.

"Okay, well, it felt like a lot in my fragile, hungover state," Connie retorts before continuing. "Anyway, Eren comes over looking all tired and shit and heads straight for my couch. I tell 'im I'm gonna shower and to wait for me and guess what?? I come out and he's fuckin' snorin'. I try to wake him up, and this dude is fully knocked the hell out, like a damn corpse." He dramatically makes his head fall back, sticking his tongue out like he's dead to mimic Eren.

Eren exhales through his nose, shaking his head. "I was asleep. That’s normal, dumbass."

"Nah, bro, you were dead," Connie insists. "I had to blast music just to get him up."

"Which was so necessary," Eren drawls sarcastically. He swears his ears are still ringing from how close Connie put the speaker next to his ear.

"Yes, it was!" Connie exclaims, still finding the situation hilarious. "Because then this idiot gets up and takes, like, twenty goddamn minutes to stare at his phone instead of—"

"—Because I was looking at something important," Eren interjects.

"Yeah, sure, 'important'. Bro was probably checking his DMs like his life depended on it." Eren doesn’t confirm or deny this, which only makes Connie cackle harder. "Anyway," Connie continues, "we finally leave, and then tell me why this dumbass forgets his wallet, and we have to turn around—"

"I didn’t forget it," Eren argues, taking a sip of his drink. "I just didn’t know where it was."

Historia shakes her head, eyes squinting in exasperation. "That’s the same thing."

"Exactly!" Connie exclaims, arms flailing animatedly. "So now we’re really late, and when we finally get back in my car, the tire pressure light is on. And at that point, I was about ready to just die in my driveway."

"Honestly? You should’ve just let nature take you," Ymir says, stuffing one of the mini quiches the table ordered into her mouth.

"Rude!" Connie gasps, clutching his chest. "Ya know you would miss me if I actually died. Who else would entertain you at brunch?" He tosses a crumple up used sugar packet at her. You glance at Connie and allow yourself a small smile. He’s like a puppy that can’t stop barking, but you kind of like him that way. His antics help distract you from the tension that Eren never seems to let go of. Every time his gaze flickers your way, it’s like a spark of something you can’t name. Not yet, at least.

You softly laugh, finally giving in to the ridiculousness of it all. "So what I’m hearing is, between the two of you, getting to brunch was a damn odyssey?"

"Basically," Connie nods. "But hey, we made it. Even if Eren had to take his sweet ass time getting pretty for you."

You arch a brow at that, glancing over at Eren, whose lips twitch like he’s trying to suppress another smirk. You know Connie’s just stirring the pot, but you can’t deny there’s a certain… appeal in how Eren carries himself. It’s not that he’s trying—he doesn’t need to. And that's what irritates you.

Eren doesn’t even flinch at Connie's comment, instead leaning into it. "Maybe I did," he says smoothly, taking another slow, deliberate sip of his drink. "But even if I didn't I'd still look good enough for ya." It was something about this boy's ego that seemed to tick you off.

You just tilt your head, resting your chin on your palm as you regard Eren with yet another unimpressed stare. "Pretty bold assumption there, Jaeger."

Eren shrugs, an annoyingly smug grin tugging at his lips. "I make good ones."

"Debatable." You gulp the rest of your mango mimosa, wiping the little droplet that was on the corner of your mouth. "But sure, if you wanna tell yourself that." Reaching for a piece of french toast, you dip it in syrup, taking your time as you chew slowly, almost to taunt him. The silence between you both stretches, and for a moment, you allow yourself to enjoy the satisfaction of the game—your back straight, your expression utterly indifferent while his is all too easy to read: that quiet frustration that you’re just out of reach.

Connie, wiping the fake tears from his eyes, waves a hand between the two of you. "Oh, this is good. This is so good. Keep going. I’m invested." Cause who needs reality television when you have two friends at each other's throats.

"You would be," Historia mutters before popping a piece of fruit into her mouth. Although she's just as invested in this fiasco.

Eren leans forward again, that damn smirk still present. "Alright, since we’re making assumptions—what about you? Took extra time getting ready just in case I showed up?" He wants to make you flustered, wants to see you blush or tense up or show any other emotion besides indifference to him.

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. "Oh, sweetheart, I barely made it out of bed. The only thing I got pretty for was this mimosa tower." There’s no hesitation in your words, no hesitation in the way you look at him. You’ve got to keep your ground. He’s fishing for something, but you’re not biting.

Eren clicks his tongue, feeling stumped. For once he didn't have a clever comeback. "Damn. Shot down again just like that." His fingers tap on the table as he falls back against the back of the booth.

You flash him a mock sympathetic look, plump bottom lip jutting into a pout. "Tragic, really."

Ymir whistles, tearing into yet another one of the quiches like it's popcorn and this is a show. "Alright, this is a slow burn in real time, and I’m loving it." The tension is so thick between you and Eren, it’s almost palpable. Whether it’s sexual, confrontational, or just a game of egos—you’re not sure, but everyone at the table feels it.

Historia leans on her elbow, eyeing you both. The stare down the two of you are having seems almost intimate. "You sure you two haven’t met before? Because this feels... personal."

You roll your eyes, trying to avoid the sudden rush of heat that floods your chest. "Nope. Just have a sixth sense for bullshit." Honestly you were tired of this little act Eren was putting on. From the stories Ymir and Historia had told you he was nowhere near as nice as he's pretending to be right now. You were waiting for his entitlement and attitude to shine through.

Eren huffs out a chuckle at that, shaking his head. "Noted." Despite the sour look you try to put on, Eren can see that flushed look you try to suppress, and although you would deny, deny, deny, he knows that he's slowly but surely gonna get what he wants. With that thing being you.

You take the opportunity to turn away, reclaiming some semblance of control in this little exchange. You busy yourself with refilling your mimosa, making a point to give him nothing else to latch onto. But then you glance over at him again, catching him staring at you, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You’re almost sure he’s trying to figure you out, and maybe it’s working. Maybe he’s getting under your skin more than you’d like to admit. But before you can process it, Ymir’s voice cuts through your thoughts.

"You two are ridiculous," she says, leaning back in her chair, as she watches the two of you basically having a staring contest still. "You know that, right?"

You shoot her a look, but before you can respond, Historia accidentally spills her sixth mimosa, her face flushed, a giggle escaping her lips. "Oopsieeee," she hiccups, taking a french toast stick and sopping up the spilled liquid before taking a bite.

"Uh oh," Connie says, grinning. "Looks like someone had a little too much to drink already." Connie honestly loves when Historia gets like this, she's the definition of white girl wasted, always turning into a completely different person once she gets some alcohol in her system.

Historia leans heavily against Ymir, blinking slowly as she chews. "I’m fine," she slurs. "Just a little tipsy."

The whole table laughs as Ymir grabs her arm to steady her, clearly rolling her eyes but not too bothered by it. As the rest of the group focuses on Historia, you glance back at Eren, only to find him looking at you—his expression unreadable now, though the edge of amusement hasn’t left his eyes. You almost think he's going to say something—almost want him to—when Ymir interrupts, loud and clear.

"Okay, enough of you two and your weird ass tension. You’re both insufferable. Let’s get this one home before she turns into a puddle of bad decisions," Ymir grumbles, throwing Historia’s arm around her shoulder. You almost wonder how Historia got so drunk, but then you realize how tiny she is and just how much she drank. Plus, the girl barely touched any of her food, too focused on downing mimosa after mimosa.

You stand up from the table, shaking your head at the chaos of it all. You’re a little drunk, a little tipsy, but mostly, you’re irritated that the moment was so easily broken. You grab your purse, eyes locking with Eren’s one last time as you follow the others. For a split second, you wonder what he’s thinking—if he’s still amused by you, or if he’s over it. You’re not sure. But whatever it is, it’s a thought that will linger long after this brunch ends. As you step out of the diner the cool air hits you, and the rest of the group’s voices fade into the background. You feel his gaze on your back, and the flutter in your stomach is the only clue you need: this isn’t over.

.・゜✧﹒☁﹒✧゜・．.・゜✧﹒☁﹒✧゜・．.・゜✧﹒☁﹒✧゜・．.・

tags ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ @cc1306 @booksandbud4me

[lascvitae]

♯┆ynselle forgetting to keep their relationship secret .ᐟ

genre fluff pairing giselle x 5th member of aespa!reader warnings cursing

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ katty ᥫ᭡: old draft, fun af

masterlist.

video start: HEY YALLLLL WELCOME BACK TO ANOTHER VIDEO AFTER… six months… *vine boom*

i’ve put together a compilation of clips where giselle and y/n are practically throwing their relationship in our faces 😭😭

LETS GET RIGHT INTO ITTT

*technical difficulties screen*

clip 1!… 🎬 whiplash bts

the camera is focused on y/n as she drinks water during a break from their shooting.

“this is aeri-unnie’s killing part.” y/n beamed, mocking the choreo of her bandmate. the bandmate who she had no idea was behind her.

“the way she moves her hips is like this.” she demonstrated, fully in character. “move fast~” she giggled at the camera.

giselle had successfully sneaked up behind her, coming to grab her sides and eliciting a squeal from the younger.

“you’re making fun of me?” she caught the girl in her arms and she giggled to protest.

“no! no! i wasn’t!” y/n shook her head, holding giselle closer instead of fighting her grip.

“good. you better not be.” giselle leaned forward, turning her head to make eye contact with y/n.

[their hair colors remind me sm of my melody & kuromi… they had to coordinate it]

*technical difficulties screen*

clip 2!… 🎬 y/n’s first livestream after her mini-hiatus

“hello MYs! i missed you all so much.” she waved excitedly with her right hand.

she read the comments to see what everyone was saying, moving her hair out of her face and swaying side to side.

lascvitae: y/n has a ring on her finger… did she get married on hiatus 😳

[BYEEE THATS ME]

“i didn’t get married!” y/n laughed nervously, holding up her right hand again. “aeri-unnie gave me this ring.”

the ring had diamonds all around it with one big diamond in the middle.

overiem: bye that looks so expensive

“she didn’t tell me how much it cost at first.” y/n continued, running a hand through her hair. “she said i wouldn’t accept it.” she covered her mouth to laugh as she recalled the events.

[giselle spoiling her girlfriend… per usual]

aerichandesu ✓: don’t tell them how much it costs

aerichandesu ✓: that’s between me and you

“unnie said i can’t tell anyone! so next topic.” y/n clasped her hands together while fighting back a smile, sitting up to the camera and fixing her posture.

[not y/n tryna look good for giselle]

*techical difficulties screen*

clip 3!… 🎬 aespa at inkigayo while y/n is the mc

y/n is standing next to han yujin as they cover aespa and y/n can be seen blushing slightly.

cheers could be heard and y/n covered her face from embarrassment, coming together as giselle gave her an encouraging hand on the shoulder.

“today’s first place nominees… aespa!” y/n accounces and they both move out of the way to clap for the girls.

as karina counts down y/n almost does the greeting before stopping herself, laughing nervously and earning a quiet laugh from giselle. “cute.” she mouthed.

“nice to meet you! how does it feel?” yujin asked and y/n turned around to find giselle’s gaze burning holes through her head.

[did giselle even blink… LMAO]

“it’s such an honor to be nominated alongside with other amazing artists! please look forward to our performances and thank you for the support!” even though winter was speaking into the camera and everyone was focused on her, giselle only focused on y/n.

“for whiplash… the choreo was very captivating. the charisma is off the charts!” yujin exclaimed before looking back at all of the girls.

“we worked really hard for this comeback so we hope you guys enjoy it!” ningning clapped, nodding as yeonjun continued to speak after she finished.

“we’re enjoying it! lastly, should we hear about what you guys will do if you get first place?” he asked.

“if we get first place…” giselle started, looking at the camera. “we’ll perform an encore of whiplash and two other songs that you all choose.” she held up the number two and the fans cheered.

“then i’ll go shopping with my favorite person in the world.” giselle looked directly at y/n and blew a kiss.

the crowd cheered and y/n covered her face, blushing again. “oh!” yujin stifled a laugh before clapping and y/n regained her composure before catching the kiss with a flirty smile.

[tf they got going on?]

“we’ll look at the results in a bit. shall we introduce the next stage?” y/n asked, turning to look at aespa.

“let’s meet purple kiss’ stage. music cue!”

*technical difficulties screen*

obviously there’s a lot more but that’s all for todayyy

THANK YOU FOR WATCHING!!! sub && like or you’ll be bald by the age of 30 🙏🏽🙏🏽

taglist — @saysirhc