ms-liz-steele

[ms-liz-steele]

I Opened A Ko-Fi Account

Hey guys! I hope y'all are good. So I decided to open a Ko-Fi account. I'll be posting teasers for upcoming chapters before posting the full chapters across all my writing platforms.

Link down below

[ms-liz-steele]

No Love

Pole Dancer!Lisa x Bartender!Male OC | smut, drama, romance

-> Synopsis: Ollie has one rule he lives by: never mix work with his personal life.

But what happens when he sets his eyes on a dancer one night at a club during his shift.

New Chapters Every Monday

chapters index | ongoing

Beer

☾︎✯☽︎

My knuckles gently tapped on the door, signalling my arrival. The door swung open after a minute or two, and there she was dressed in a yellow tight tank top and a pair of loose black dolphin shorts. It was a simple look, but that didn't stop the momentary captivation I had at how her outfit clung to her petite figure in all the right places – an attire that was a striking balance between casual and sexy and accentuated her grace and effortless confidence. You'd think I'd be used to it since it was my second time coming to her room. But I still felt my heart beating with anticipation and breathless like the first time.

I quickly shifted my focus to the bag of food and six-pack of alcohol that I bought on the way to her room. A half smile tugged my lips as I offered her the bag of goodies, hoping it would keep her from noticing the way my eyes lingered on her. Lisa's eyes crinkled as she grinned widely and welcomed me inside.

I was greeted with a wave of familiarity. The air was infused with a subtle scent of her favourite vanilla scent candle. The soft glow of her lamp caster a warm golden hue across the room. Her bed, bookshelf and desk were still in the same position when I last came there – near her window.

"You're on time," Lisa remarked, retrieving ice from her mini fridge.

I shrugged playfully and sat on her bed. "Well, you did emotionally blackmail me into coming. I had a feeling tardiness would lead to endless teasing from you."

☾︎✯☽︎

Lisa and I decided to forgo the movie night Lisa confessed that she had nothing specific in mind to watch and I wasn't much of a movie person. Luckily, Lisa had some board games to make up for our night together and we were engaged in an intense game of Sequence with the game spread on her bed, two solo cups of alcohol filled with alcohol and empty fast-food boxes. Lisa's laughter echoed in the room, a melodic backdrop to our intense Sequence game. With every move, my frustration grew, evident in the clenching of my fists and the furrowed brows. My eye twitched annoyed. "You have to be cheating."

She blinked and feigned innocence as she drank from her cup. "Whatever do you mean, Ollie?"

"You know what I mean, you little minx." I retorted, a playful smirk tugging at my lips, though my annoyance was genuine. I took the high road and forfeited the game, my pride taking a back seat for the night. "Just so you know, I'm being generous and letting you win for tonight."

"Or maybe forfeiting could be because you're just bad at the game and you don't want to embarrass yourself," she taunted. It was clear that she was messing with me. I could tell from the mischief glinting in her dark eyes.

I mockingly mouthed her words and rolled my eyes, earning a chuckle from her. As she leaned in to clear the remnants of our game, my gaze involuntarily wandered, tracing every contour of her face. From the gentle curve of her downcast eyes to the slight quirk of her lips, I couldn't help but be captivated. My gaze then trailed further down to her chest where her nipples were protruding from her top. I swallowed, hoping to quench the thirst in my throat and I slowly felt my pants getting tighter. I knew I shouldn't be entertaining those lustful thoughts, but I couldn't help myself, especially with her so close. Her scent enveloped me like a drug, invading my nostrils and clouding my mind.

When Lisa's eyes met mine, the air in the room changed. Her pupils were diluted with lust under her hooded eyes, mirroring my own unspoken longing and desire. The room seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of us in this moment of playful camaraderie. I could feel my sense of self-restraint slipping from my grasp with each passing second, we stared at each other.

Unable to resist the magnetic pull between us, I grabbed the back of her head and pulled her in, capturing her lips into a hungry kiss and taking in her intoxicating taste. She moaned into the kiss, responding with the same passion and fervour. I pulled her closed until she was straddled against me with her legs wrapped around her waist. I brushed my tongue against her lips, cautiously testing the waters. Lisa obliged, opening her mouth wider and granting me access to explore her mouth.

The moment grew more intense, heating up between us. Our heads and lips moved in sync, tongues intertwining and dancing together. The room echoed with our moans and sighs as our bodies pressed, grinding against each other in a passionate rhythm. Her fingers tangled in my hair as one of her arms encircled my shoulder. I breathed against her neck, my right arm wrapped around her waist, while my left hand gripped her shoulder tightly, pulling her closer.

I pushed her back, her body sinking into her bed. I stripped off my t-shirt, discarding it carelessly on the floor and leaned placing sloppy kisses on her neck. Lisa tilted her head back against her pillow, granting me more access to explore her neck and collarbones. She let out a whining mewl, gripping my bare back so hard that I could feel her nails digging into my skin.

"Condoms?" I asked, groaning into her neck.

"In my nightstand."

Without loosening my grip on her, my lips trailing along her neck, I blindly reached for the top drawer of her nightstand. My fingers, expecting to find the familiar foil packet, instead brushed against something soft and fluffy.

Confused yet intrigued, I lifted my head, pulling out the mysterious object, my eyes widening at the sight of a pair of fluffy handcuffs dangling in my hands. The room, illuminated by a soft, dim glow, added an air of mystery to the unexpected discovery.

I turned to the woman beneath me, my eyebrow arching in playful curiosity. Her reaction was priceless – a mix of exasperation and embarrassment, her cheeks taking on a subtle pink hue. She rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at her lips, giving away her amusement at my baffled expression.

“Should I ask?” I chuckled, raising the fluffy handcuffs with a quirked eyebrow.

“One of my girlfriends bought them for my birthday. Said that may need them to spice up my sex life,” she rolled her eyes, her tone a blend of amusement and mild annoyance.

I examined the cuffs closely, intrigued by their delicate allure. The pale pink fur felt like a soft cloud against my fingertips. They had a sturdy exterior while also having a luxurious faux fur lining, promising unparalleled comfort. Instead of metallic chains, delicate white pearls held the cuffs together, adding an elegant touch to their playful design.

“So, like… are you into kinky sex or something?” I asked, turning to her with eyes filled with curiosity and free from judgment. “Or is it just an amusing gift?”

She shrugged, sitting up straight. “I dunno. I’ve never tried or got the chance to.” She revealed, her tone tinged with curiosity and a hint of vulnerability. “Fifty Shades kinda ruined it for me, you know?”

“Hey,” I playfully scolded her. “A badly written Twilight fanfiction turned movie is not a good enough excuse especially when you haven’t given it a try. I thought you were better than this.” I chuckled, understanding her sentiment.

“Of course, you would say that you womanising asshole,” she pouted playfully slapping my chest, making me laugh. “Have you… have you tried kinky sex with the girls you slept with?” she asked slowly, her tone laced with curiosity.

“I have,” I answered. “But it's not exactly my scene. I can handle the handcuffs and a bit of playful spanking, sure. But I draw the line at whips, gagging and degrading. If that's your thing, great, but don't assume it's automatically on my menu.”

Lisa's laughter danced in the room before her expression became serious. Her eyes, suddenly burning with desire and her tone bold and seductive. "Then show me."

[ms-liz-steele]

No Love

Pole Dancer!Lisa x Bartender!Male OC | smut, drama, romance

-> Synopsis: Ollie has one rule he lives by: never mix work with his personal life.

But what happens when he sets his eyes on a dancer one night at a club during his shift.

New Chapters Every Monday

chapters index | ongoing

Gimlet

☾︎✯☽︎

Closing time rolled by at the club and people were slowly clocking out and leaving for their destinations. After a long night of serving patrons and dealing with a few difficult customers, I couldn't wait to head out and call it a night. Lisa had invited me over for a movie night at her dorm. I was sceptical of her decision especially when it was a weeknight and I didn't want to inconvenience her or disrupt her studies especially when she knows that I finish work at the earliest hours of the morning. However, she insisted it was no hassle for her, as she didn't have classes for the entire semester and was focusing on her research paper and consultations with her supervisor.

I couldn't tell her no. Not when she was giving me puppy eyes and her pouty bottom lip was quivering as she begged me to come spend time with her.

As I made my way to the clock-out station, I noticed music playing in the background. An electric guitar strumming a soft melody and a soft voice singing with such so much emotion.

Who could be playing music during closing time? I wondered as curiosity tickled the edges of my mind.

I followed the sound to its source and found myself standing at the entrance of On The Ground, one of the jazz clubs at the Coup Detat. I peeked through the partially open door and found myself gazing inside.

The club was relatively small compared to others, bathed in amber lighting with spherical crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Chairs were neatly arranged on top of the tables, and the room was empty, except for a small stage in the centre. There, Chaeyoung sat at the edge of the stage, her fingers skilfully strumming a guitar, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulder like a curtain, and her eyes closed as she sang with a heart full of emotion.

I watched in awe, amazed at such a talent I never knew she possessed. Her voice filled every empty space of the club with warmth and soul. She would pause midway to jot down lyrics on her notepad before picking up the pace again.

"Why did you stop?" I interrupted her, my voice startling her as she paused her song to write. "It was getting to the good part."

She blinked, her cheeks suddenly turning a soft shade of pink as her body relaxed and she let out a breathy laugh, tugging her hair behind her ear. "I didn't hear you coming."

"Well," I stepped inside and made my way towards the stage. "Considering how deeply you were immersed in your craft, I don't blame you. Although I wouldn't trust you to watch over a shop. Burglars would probably sneak right under your nose and rob the place."

With a whack of her notepad against my shoulder, she scolded me, and I couldn't help but chuckle. I took a seat beside her as she playfully glared and pouted at me.

"Didn't know you could sing," I commented with a smile.

She chuckled once again as she set aside the instrument and placed her hands between her dangling legs. "Well, I am studying music as a BA degree, so it's kinda a given," she said modestly with a shrug.

"How long have you been singing?" I asked.

"Since I was a kid. I used to sing in the church choir. I picked the guitar and started writing songs when I was in middle school."

"Ah, so you've got years of experience under your belt, huh?"

She averted her gaze with a bashful smile tugging at her lips. "You could say that. I'm not a professional writer, but I'm getting there—hopefully."

Very modest and humble, I deduced.

"Is this song for a school assignment?" I asked.

"Oh, no," she shook her head. "I thought I could just sing a little song just to pass time before heading out. Next thing I know, I have my notepad and pen writing down lyrics. It's nothing big."

I arched an eyebrow. "Doesn't your degree allow you to submit your own original work?"

"It does but not for school projects. My degree only allows me to do projects based on music theory, history and performance but not entirely on original work," she explained. "But the faculty is open to us sharing our work for functions and events."

"Have you?" I probed further. "Submitted any of your work, that is?"

Chaeyoung's expression falters a bit, but she quickly covers it up with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "No... I never had the courage to."

"What's stopping you?"

She fell into silence, and I could see her thoughts turning over in her mind as she formulated her response. Her furrowed brows created a line on her forehead, her eyes cast downward, and her lips were pursed together. "I guess..." she began slowly, "I'm scared that whatever I submit won't be good enough. I have this thing where if it's not perfect, it won't see the light of day. I usually stick to covers because it feels safer."

"Why do you feel that way?"

Chaeyoung swallowed, her eyes blinking back tears. I studied her, waiting patiently for her response. Finally, she looked up at me, tears glistening in her dark eyes. "Because I feel like I'll fail as an artist if people don't like my music," she admitted. "The thought terrifies me and makes me doubt my abilities."

The tears Chaeyoung desperately tried to hold started falling down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away with the sleeves of her black hoodie but more tears kept falling and falling.

I frowned, feeling a pang of empathy as I watched her vulnerable state. It was clear that Chaeyoung possessed remarkable talent and passion for music. From what she had shared, I could imagine the hard work she had put into her craft. She seemed like someone who sought validation in the opinions of others. Not in the sense of seeking approval by going out of her way, but in wanting her work to be appreciated. It was natural for her to be apprehensive about others' opinions of her creations, as many artists were. But it was disheartening to see her doubt her abilities because of it.

I draped an arm over her shoulder and pulled her into a gentle side hug. Chaeyoung gasped softly, surprised by the sudden contact. As her body relaxed, she leaned into the hug, burying her face in my chest. I began to feel her tears staining my shirt, but I didn't mind. I rubbed her back, and my chin rested on her head as she let out small sniffles. I continued to offer comfort until she pulled away, laughing while wiping away her tears.

"Crying and getting emotional was not on my agenda today," she joked. "I'm very prone to crying easily because of that. Sorry about your shirt, Ollie."

"Don't worry about it. I've had worse done to my shirt," I assured her. "One time back in high school, a girl who had a crush on me approached to confess her feelings for me. She got so nervous she threw up on my shirt."

We both shared a laugh until we were engulfed in a comfortable silence.

"You should give it a try—submitting your music, I mean," I broke the silence. "I know it's scary, but you won't know unless you try."

"I know but..." she let out a frustrated sigh. "It has to be perfect."

"Art is an expression. It doesn't have to be perfect and not everyone has to like it—you do and I think you should make music that makes you happy."

As she looked at me, another tear escaped her left eye. I reached for her face, gently wiping it away with my thumb. Chaeyoung gasped, her cheeks gradually reddening as my hand cupped her face. Her wide eyes and slightly parted lips hinted at her surprise.

I smiled and playfully flicked her chin with my forefinger. "All better?" I asked.

She shot me a brief glare before going on to say, "Thanks for the encouraging words, Ollie," with a smile.

"Anytime. We're co-workers. We stick up for each other," I reassured her.

I noticed her expression falter briefly before she quickly masked it with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She looked away, and her hair shielded the side of her face. "Yeah."

"Want another hug?" I offered.

She looked at me with arched eyebrows.

"Come on, I give the best hugs. This is once in a lifetime opportunity," I wiggled my eyebrows, opening my arms.

She laughed and shook her head before leaning into my embrace.

[ms-liz-steele]

No Love Extract #12

[ms-liz-steele]

Sex Ed 101

Annie Leonhart x Armin Arlert | smut, drama, romance, college au

-> Synopsis: In the midst of college life, Annie finds herself entangled in an unexpected proposition - providing sex tutoring sessions for Armin, a shy and inexperienced bookworm.

New Chapters Every Month

chapters index | ongoing

Exploring the Basics: A Lesson in Confidence

❦︎

Armin's room was slightly larger than her studio apartment, adorned with the typical trappings of a university dorm. Everything was immaculate, each item having its designated place. Her eyes were drawn to the bookshelf next to his desk, where rows of books were neatly arranged. So, he's a bookworm, she noted slightly impressed.

"Would you like anything?" Armin asked after closing the door behind him.

"No... nothing for me. Thanks," she replied, taking a seat on his twin-sized bed, making herself comfortable. Armin occupied the space beside her on a few centimetres away from her.

She noticed how awkward and tense he was from his sitting posture and the way he avoided making eye contact with her. It made her wonder if Eren had given him any explanation of what to expect from her or at the very least was made aware of this arrangement to begin with.

"Eren told me you needed some... 'tutoring'," she air quoted. She felt herself cringing at the last part. This was her attempt to break the silence and she failed miserably.

"Is that what he called it?" Armin asked as a blush nested on his cheeks and ears nervously fidgeting his hands on his lap.

"Well... I don't think there's any other way of explaining whatever this," she waved her hands around the both of them. "is honestly."

Armin nodded. "Fair enough."

A pause lingered.

"So like..." she started. "Do we start with Sex Ed 101 or what?"

Armin let out a laugh, finally meeting her gaze. "I don't think that will be necessary. 7th-grade Sex Ed was both eye-opening and traumatising for me."

Annie chuckled, amused by his response. It was a new and foreign experience for her, but she found herself growing comfortable around him.

"Great. That saves me from explaining what a penis and vagina is. That's a whole lot of weird and awkward I don't want to unpack," she remarked. "So what exactly do you need help with? Like what's the sitch?"

Annie couldn't quite gauge Armin's reaction to her question. His expression was unreadable, his jaw clenched, and his eyes lingered with a hint of sadness, almost hopelessness.

"Do you... have a girlfriend or something?" she asked, half sarcastic and half curious.

"Ex-girlfriend... actually," he revealed with a withering smile.

Oh... shit, Annie's eyebrows flew up, not expecting that response from him, but intrigued that a guy like him actually had a girlfriend - no offence. "Sorry to hear that..." she mumbled.

Armin responded with a stiff nod, staring at his interlaced hands on his knees.

"Do you..." she started, unsure if it was appropriate to ask. "do you want to tell me what happened? I mean it would be helpful to know since you know - sex tutoring - but you're not obligated to share."

Of course, he's not obligated to share. We're not even friends, she mentally rolled her eyes.

"No, no, no. It's quite alright," he assured her with a smile. "I mean you did agree to help, so it's only fair that you at least know what you're in for."

There was a pause. Annie waited patiently for Armin to tell her his story.

"My girlfriend - ex-girlfriend," he corrected himself. "said that she wanted a break from our relationship and figure stuff out."

Annie arched an eyebrow. "Hate to break this to you but, when a girl says she wants a 'break from the relationship,'" she air quoted. "it usually translates to 'I did something I wasn't supposed to do so I'm going to take the easy way out and avoid taking accountability for my actions and hurting your feelings.'"

Armin let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Well, she told me she didn't feel satisfied," he shrugged. "I mean I did my best to meet her expectations, but I guess that wasn't enough." he shrugged.

His words struck her with a familiar bitterness she could relate to, but she pushed the feeling back. "Have you two ever had sex? Or at least explored it?"

Armin blushed. "W-we had but we never explored further where I had to 'stick it in'" he said.

Ah, so he's still a virgin. Somehow I'm surprised but not surprised at the same time, she mused. "Okay... so would you say that your ex took charge of your relationship?"

"No... she kinda expected me to be the one to make the first move," He revealed. "I mean it was my first and only relationship. So it was all new to me."

Okay, this feels way too familiar for my liking.

"And I'm guessing that you're the type to get nervous to make a move because you're worried you might fuck up?"

"Yeah! That's it," He agreed, finding affirmation in her words. "She has more experience than I do since she's had boyfriends before me, so I'm guessing she had her own standards and expectations. But - I dunno - I felt like she expected too much from me."

"How so?" Annie asked.

"Well, for one, she wanted me to be more masculine. I'm more soft-spoken, a bit shy sometimes and not as bold. And from what you can already tell, I prefer reading over going to the gym or any activity the typical traditional masculine guy would partake in - well, I do go the gym every now and then." He shrugged at the last part. "Exercise and self-care is good for the body and mind. But overall, my tastes and interests don't fall into her idea of masculinity."

Then why date him in the first place, Annie mentally vocalised the thought and repressed the urge to roll her eyes. People are allowed to have preferences be it in their tastes, interests and choice in partners as long as they don't weaponize them against people who don't meet them. But one thing Annie would never understand was why people choose to date individuals who don't meet their standards with the hope or expectation of changing them to fit those standards. It was both asinine and bullshit.

"Okay, I mean no disrespect," Actually, she did. All of it. "but it sounds to me like this girl knows exactly what she wants but thought she could pull a 'build a boyfriend' on you. She dated you hoping that she could change you to be what she wanted you to be but decided to pull the plug when she saw that it wasn't working."

"Oh..." Armin averted his gaze, strands of hair obscuring his eyes.

Way to go, Annie. You hurt his feelings. She mentally kicked herself. One thing about Annie was that she was brutally honest, straight and to the point. She wasn't one to beat around the bush or sugar-coat things. She always told it like it was and saw things for what they were. If she saw you acting like an insecure brat, she was going to tell you that you were acting like an insecure brat. If you asked her honestly if your outfit was okay, she was going to give it to you straight.

However, her honesty was a double-edged sword. Some appreciated and respected her honesty - though her phrasing could use some work. And some people saw her as a mean and cold bitch just because they couldn't handle the truth. She didn't care. Never had and never will. But given the situation she was in; she couldn't afford to be too honest. Especially when Armin was already beating himself up over something that wasn't his fault.

"I'm sorry. I know I can be a bit too brutal with my honesty-" she started.

"That's quite alright," he finally looked at her with a smile. There was still some sadness in his eyes but his smile held some gratitude. "I guess I needed to hear that for me to believe and confirm what I already knew. It just sucks knowing that your partner wanted more than what you could give them instead of accepting you for who you are."

And there it was again. That same bitter feeling she felt before. It wasn't aimed at Armin but at his ex and the situation itself because she could relate to it. Sure, Bertholdt didn't expect her to change the same way Armin's ex did, but in a sense he still expected her to prove that she actually cared about him despite not being an emotional person.

There was a pause in the room until Armin decided to speak. "Is there anything else you want to know?"

"No..." She replied slowly. "I think I know enough," she looked at him. "So... you do have any expectations?"

Armin shook his head. "Just being a bit more confident, I guess." He chuckled.

Annie listened to his response and nodded, her expression becoming serious and straightforward. "Alright. I guess our first lesson is going to the basics." She turned to fully face him and looked him dead in his eyes. "Kiss me."

[ms-liz-steele]

No Love

Pole Dancer!Lisa x Bartender!Male OC | smut, drama, romance

-> Synopsis: Ollie has one rule he lives by: never mix work with his personal life.

But what happens when he sets his eyes on a dancer one night at a club during his shift.

New Chapters Every Monday

chapters index | ongoing

Manhattan

☾︎✯☽︎

“Good evening, ladies. I am Seokjin and I will be in charge of serving you drinks with some laughs on the side,” Jin said, giving our patrons for the evening one of his signature charming winks. The three ladies were already melting and swooning at the gesture.

“How do you plan on doing that? What’s your secret?” one of them asked, raising an eyebrow as her eyes sparked with anticipation.

Jin broke into a smile and leaned forward. “So glad you could ask, madam. My secret is… drum roll please…” he tapped his fingers on the bar. “… a generous splash of puns and dad jokes. All are free of charge. After all, as a bartender, it's my duty to serve you both drinks and smiles. So, why did the lemon refuse to jump into the bartender's glass? It was feeling a little sour!"

The group chuckled; their interest was piqued. I arched an eyebrow and shook my head.

Kim Seokjin was many things. A gossip, sassy and worldwide handsome (his words, not mine), but funny wasn’t one of those things. His sense of humour mainly consisted of puns and cringy dad jokes and the only reason why anyone, women specifically found them funny was because of the very thing he took so much pride in – his face.

“That joke was cringy and you know it,” I commented, wiping the glass in my hand.

He let out a gasp and clutched his chest. “That joke was the best one I could dish out. As long as it put these a smile on these pretty ladies’ faces,” he took one of their hands and kisses them. The girl was already a melting mess because of the gesture.

“Maybe focus more on mixing drinks and less on being a stand-up comedian,” I said.

Jin’s eyes measured me with judgement. “Good Lord, hyung. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that your sense of humour is on the rocks.”

The patrons erupted into laughter. I tried to hide a smile but couldn’t stop the chuckle from leaving my mouth. I’ll admit that was a witty comeback. Well played.

I saw a group of women, about three of them, approach the bar in my direction. “Good evening, ladies. How can I help you?” I greeted them with a smile.

“Hi, can you make me a vodka soda? Oh! And a strawberry sunrise and a margarita for my friends,” one of them, a woman with long bleach blonde hair said.

“Alrighty! Just give me a few minutes and I’ll have your drinks ready,” I said.

I quickly grabbed three glasses and the ingredients I needed to make their drinks. About five minutes later, their drinks were placed right in front of them. “Here you go. Would you like to open a tab or are you paying as you go?” I asked.

“No need. I’m sure if I ask any of the guys here, they’ll be happy to pay for us,” the blonde said.

My eyebrow flew up to my hairline, taken back by what she said. I noticed her friends already getting uncomfortable and embarrassed by her and I swore I heard one of them mutter, “Not this again.”

“Um… what?” I asked dumbfounded, slowly coming to my senses.

“Don’t mind her,” one of her friends dismisses her with a glare. “You can open us a tab.”

“No, I said that I have it handled because I’m sure someone is going to step in and offer to help out this lovely lady and her friends and pay for our drinks.” She said raising her voice loud enough to catch the attention of almost every person in the bar. “Unless you’re offering,” she turned to me with a flirtatious grin tugging her glossy lips.

“First of all, no. I am not going to pay for your drinks,” I said. “Second, you can’t just come to a bar and expect random strangers to pay for your drinks if they’re not offering.”

“Men are always out here preaching about being nice guys and complaining about why women never choose them,” she shrugged. “Now’s their chance to practice what they preach and prove how much of a “nice guy” they really are.”

I blinked once. Twice. Thrice. “Ma’am, do you have any money at all?”

“Wow! That’s rude to ask,” she retorted immediately getting into the defensive.

“It’s just a genuine question,” I rolled my eyes.

“We do actually. Don’t worry,” one of them interjected earning a glare from the blonde.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Saving us from being humiliated by your antics and avoiding getting kicked out,” her friend responded matter-of-factly.

“I told you I have things under control, and you don’t need to waste money.”

So, she’s one of those people. It wasn’t the first time I’ve encountered customers, women in particular, who come to any bar or club with little to no money and played damsel in distress to get free drinks. These types of customers are the most annoyingly spoiled and entitled egomaniacs I’ve ever encountered in my years as a bartender.

“Okay, I’m going to have to take these back,” I said, withdrawing the drinks I made for them.

“Hey! You can’t do that!” the blonde shrieked.

“I very much can, and I am not obligated to serve customers who would rather solicit other customers just because they’re too broke to afford their own drinks,” I told her. “And I’m sure you can see a lovely sign with the words “No Solicitation” written in bold and all caps posted behind me. So unless you’re going to take your friend’s offer to sponsor you and save yourself the embarrassment, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I’ve been here plenty of times and none of the bartenders here had a problem with it!”

“That’s them. My colleague Jin would have loved to sponsor you since he prides himself in being a gentleman, but as you can already see, he’s occupied,” I said, pointing at Jin and his patrons. “I, on the other hand, can see right through your BS and that little trick of yours is not going to work on me I’m afraid. I’m not going to let you bully my customers to buy you drinks.”

“Do you know who I am? I am an influencer with a huge following. Do you really want me to ruin your business?”

“Yes, and I am Ariana Grande’s new boyfriend,” I deadpanned. “I am truly sorry that you’ve been raised by a society that thinks you as a woman should be celebrated for just existing and adhering to the male gaze and social aura. But sadly, I am not part of that society. Being pretty and an influencer can get you far, but it means nothing.”

The blonde’s face was already red from rage and humiliation. I can assume that my words were an unspoken truth that struck one of her insecurities she didn’t want to face and confront. Could I have been kinder with my words, sure, but I was being honest and there was no way that I was going to sugarcoat my words just to accommodate her feeling. Life doesn’t work like that.

“Whatever! But we’re never coming back here,” she spat, shooting daggers at me.

“Trust me, sweetheart. You not coming back here to spend money you don’t seem to have is the least of my worries,” I answered.

“Let’s just go,” the blonde’s other friend quickly grabbed her before she could do anything to me and escorted her out.

The friend that stayed behind – the same one who offered to pay to diffuse the situation – slid some cash towards me. “I apologise for the inconvenience. I hope this makes up for it,” she bowed.

I slid the money back towards her. “It’s fine. Your apologising is more than enough. Enjoy your night – well, what’s left of it.”

She smiled and bowed again before leaving. I let out a long sigh. I deserve a raise after this.

[ms-liz-steele]

No Love Extract #11

[ms-liz-steele]

Thank you to everyone who got me to 250 likes!

[ms-liz-steele]

No Love

Pole Dancer!Lisa x Bartender!Male OC | smut, drama, romance

-> Synopsis: Ollie has one rule he lives by: never mix work with his personal life.

But what happens when he sets his eyes on a dancer one night at a club during his shift.

New Chapters Every Monday

chapters index | ongoing

Whiskey Sour

☾︎✯☽︎

Finally, the time to close and head home. Jin wasted no time leaving when I offered to take care of checking the inventory before closing the pub.

As I was about to close up the pub, there was a sudden knock on the door. “We’re closed,” I called without looking behind me as I put away the last glass.

“You wouldn’t mind sparing a few minutes for a work colleague?”

I quickly snapped my head behind me and lo and behold, Lisa was standing at the door.

“Hi.” She smiled.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you,” I said. “Especially right after your shift at your internship.”

“I know, but I wanted to stop by and see you,” she said. “I hear you serve the best drinks, and I could really use one. It’s been a long night.”

I observed her closely, her tie was long discarded from her uniform, leaving her blouse with two unbuttoned buttons. Despite the smile she wore, I could tell that she was exhausted.

I gestured for her to come in and told her to close the door behind her.

“So, what would the fine lady like to have,” I asked when she settled down comfortably in her seat.

“Surprise me,” she said with a grin.

I nodded my head, “As you wish.”

I grabbed a glass, lemon juice and sugar. “So, how’s the internship going for you?” I asked.

She nodded her head side to side with a scrunch on her face. “The internship is intern-shipping.”

I arched an eyebrow and chuckled at her response. “What kind of response is that?”

“It’s the only response I can think of at the moment. I’m too burned out to get into how draining the whole thing has been ever since I started.” She chuckled.

I hummed and pushed her drink towards her. “I would have made you a tequila sunrise since you seem to like tequila, but the tequila is locked in the inventory. I hope you don’t mind having a whiskey sour instead,” I said.

“It’s okay,” she smiled assuredly. “Anything you make me is fine. Just as long as you don’t poison me.”

We both shared a laugh until her phone suddenly rang. “Hello? Hi Papa!” she said as her face lit up.

The rest of the conversation she had with her father was in Thai. I wasn’t well-versed in the language, but I did manage to get that context around the conversation was about school and her internship – a subject that seemed to be touchy for her with how she was giving half response and how visibly uncomfortable she was talking about it.

Lisa then switched to English and said with a sigh, “Yes, Papa. I know how important it is. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

After a few more minutes of chatting, Lisa said her goodbyes and ends the call. She let out a ragged sigh through her mouth, puffing her cheeks in the process before smiling at me apologetically.

“Pops getting on you back about school?” I asked.

“You understand Thai?” her eyebrows quirked up.

“Just a little. A fun fact about me is that despite being Chinese-Australian, I’m also half-Thai because of my mom,” I answered. “My dad used to send me to take Thai lessons so I wouldn’t ‘lose touch with my Thai heritage’. I had no interest in it of course, but that didn’t stop him because he hoped I’d grow to care, but I didn’t budge so he eventually stopped.”

Lisa hummed and nodded. We fell into a comfortable silence. Lisa was taking small sips of her cocktail while I watched her.

Moved around from the bar and sat next to her. “What’s on your mind, Lisa?”

“Nothing. It’s just,” she paused, deciding if she should share. “It’s always been my dream to be a dancer. I used to go to dance classes as a kid before my parents laid me off from attending so I could focus more on my studies and focus on getting into uni, but that never stopped me from dancing when I had the time. I used to tell my friends that I was going to open my dance studio.”

“Does your dad know about your night job?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I doubt if knowing his daughter spends her free time dancing at a nightclub instead of studying is something he wants to know.”

“But why study Hospitality?” I asked. “It sounds to me to you already know what you want to do with your life. Yet you’re doing the opposite.”

She was silent at first then sighed. “Exotic dancing is the closest thing I have to achieving my dream,” she explained. “I mean, I may not be going to dance school, but I get to dance in front of a lot of people and get paid as a bonus. Plus, I have to think about my dad. He sent me to pretty good private schools and a good university.”

“So, you’re a rich girl?”

“Well, I am the daughter of Master Chef Marco after all?”

My eyebrows flew up surprised. “Your dad’s Marco Brüschweiler? The famous Swiss chef Marco Brüschweiler?”

She laughed. “The very one.”

“So, are you half Swiss?” I asked.

She shook her head. “He’s my stepfather. My mom and biological father separated shortly after I was born. A year later, my mom met my stepfather. He’s been the only father figure I’ve known all my life.”

As Lisa spoke, I couldn’t help the unpleasant feeling I had. It was like I was being transported back in time to my own childhood. I saw myself as a three-year-old seated at the staircase watching my parent.

“Mai, please. Think about our son.” My dad begged on his knees in a shaky voice.

My mother didn’t give him much of a reaction other than the guilty look she wore while my dad held on to her waist for dear life.

“I’m sorry,” she said, gently freeing herself from his grasp and exiting the house with her suitcase.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as the vivid image of my dad b down with his face planted and clenched fists planted on the floor. It wasn’t a pleasant memory to recall, especially since it’s my first memory – the very first thing I remembered as a child.

“Does it bother you that your bio dad left?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I have no reason to since I have no memory of him. My mom has shown me pictures of him, but I don’t feel any strong attachment towards him the same way I have towards my dad.”

“Must be nice,” I remarked feeling a twinge of envy.

“Yeah, but I guess that’s what made it easy. I never had to wonder about what life would be like if my bio dad was around because my dad was there for me all my life. You know what they say, it takes blood to be a father, but it takes love to be a dad.” She said. “I guess the reason why I chose to study hospitality is because I want to help run his restaurant as a way of repaying him for being there for me and my mom.”

I was intrigued by her appreciation towards her stepfather, and it made me wonder what life would have been like if my dad decided to move on and remarry after my mother left. He always dismissed and shut down the idea by saying that raising and taking care of me was more important than romance. But if I’m going to be honest, I think he was only saying that because he didn’t want to admit that he still held out hope that my mother would come back.

But if I had a stepmother in my life, would my life be different or the same as it is now?

“You know there’s more than one way to help your dad, right?” I told her.

“Yes, but I feel like I have to repay him somehow—”

“You being happy is more than enough,” I placed my hand on top of hers. “And from what you’ve told me about him, he sounds like a supportive father.”

Lisa looked away with a smile. We fell into another comfortable silence. The air was thick with the smell of whiskey and the soft hum of the Jukebox in the corner. After a while, Lisa broke the silence.

“Do you have a speaker?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s right by the Jukebox,” I told her.

I curiously watched Lisa get up and walk over to the Jukebox, her hips swaying with each step. She pulled out her phone and connected it to the speaker, scrolling through her playlist until she found an R&B/Soul song.

As the smooth melody filled the room, Lisa began to sway her hips and move her body to the sensual beat. Her body was a blur of motion, her hips swivelling in time with the rhythm. She unbuttoned her blouse and tossed it to the side, leaving her in a black lace spaghetti top. I watched her in subtle awe, fixing my eyes on every she made.

Lisa’s dance was like a work of art, a symphony of motion, grace and fluidity. Her body flowed with the music and moved in perfect sync and harmony with the beat. I felt myself get drowning, my heart was beating faster and faster, and my hands sweat as I watched her.

As the song progressed, Lisa approached me, her eyes locked with mine. She moved even closer and closer until our bodies were almost touching. Without wasting time, she leaned in and pressed her lips against mine, her body pressed tightly against mine.

I felt a surge of electricity run through me as our lips touched and I responded eagerly, wrapping an arm around her small waist and pressing a hand on her upper back. We kissed passionately, lost in the moment and intensity of our kiss. The rest of the world faded, leaving us in our own private universe. For a brief moment, I forgot about my troubles and my mind went blank. As the final strains of the song began to fade, we pulled away and looked at each other. Neither of us spoke, but the air was changed with a new energy.

The next thing I knew, Lisa and I were in my car, naked in the driver’s seat. I held Lisa in my arms as she rocked her hips against mine, grazing her finger through my hair, moaning and gasping with every stroke and thrust I made. The air in the car became humid with the smell of sex and sweat.

The song continued to play subtly in the background as we hungrily explored each other’s tender places.

“Fuck… feels so good,” I groaned.

Our deep intimacy carried forward with the subtle chemistry of our bodies as we expressed an emotion that can only be sensed but not fully understood.

[ms-liz-steele]

No Love Extract #10

[ms-liz-steele]

No Love

Pole Dancer!Lisa x Bartender!Male OC | smut, drama, romance

-> Synopsis: Ollie has one rule he lives by: never mix work with his personal life.

But what happens when he sets his eyes on a dancer one night at a club during his shift.

New Chapters Every Monday

chapters index | ongoing

Old Fashioned

☾︎✯☽︎

I always preferred bartending at pubs to nightclubs. I was used and accustomed to the loud and crowded atmosphere nightclubs normally have, but something about the cosy and welcoming atmosphere pubs always have with its warm lighting casting a golden glow on the wooden tables and chairs. The air is always infused with the scent of malt, and you always feel a sense of relaxation wash over you.

The pub itself was a beautiful wooden structure, polished to shine and adorned with bottles of every colour and shape. The room is filled with gentle murmurs of conversations and soft clinking of glasses with subtle music playing in the background. I was stationed to bartend at one of the small pubs in the Coup Detat instead of Pink Venom for the whole week.

My shift was going smoothly just like any other night. I was serving drinks and chatting with a few customers here and there. Some of my old customers from my previous work managed to find where I worked and decided to visit me.

"I was bummed when I found out that your old boss cut you off," one of them said. "he should have realised that he shot himself in the leg throwing away an asset like you."

I chuckled at his sentiment. "How's the old boss man these days?"

"Not too good, sadly. He had to close down his business when the number of customers started to decline. It got worse when the bartenders he did keep started resigning." He shook his head. "Truly a shame."

I hummed in concession. "Indeed."

As my shift continued, my mood suddenly changed when I saw the person I never thought I'd have to see again – the rich man who was with Lisa in the VIP room at Pink Venom weeks ago.

"This man really chose the worst days to come to see Lisa," I heard Jin mutter beside me.

"Then why is he here at this pub?" I asked, staring hard at him as he took a seat at the bar.

"Only one way to find out," Jin said before proceeding to nudge me in the man's direction.

"Why me?" I retaliated.

"Because I am not dealing with his trifling ass at this God-forsaken hour. I love my handsome face free from bruises and a black eye, thank you very much."

"That's going to be the least of your worries when I have your head on a silver platter, asshole!"

"Look, hyung. Out of the both of us, you're the most calm and level-headed. This night will end with me getting froggy and putting hands on that son of a bitch if you leave me to handle him."

I grumble begrudgingly and walked over to the man. "Hello and welcome. How can I help you?" I greet him with my best professional voice.

He smiled as he gave me a look of recognition. "I remember you. You work at the club, no?"

I nodded stiffly. "That I do, sir."

"How come you're here and not the club?"

"We have a weekly rotational roaster. I'll be here before I have to rotate to a different pub for the whole week."

The man hummed and nodded his head.

"Anything you'd like to drink?" I asked a little impatiently. I really didn't want to be in this man's presence more than I had to.

He leaned back in his seat with a thoughtful look on his face. "I'm in the mood for an old-fashioned."

"Coming right up."

I deftly selected a glass and created a soothing melody with the sound of the ice cubes clinking into the glass as I filled it up. I reached for a bottle of bourbon, its rich amber colour glowing in the amber-lit room. With a steady hand, I splash the right amount against the ice like a gentle waterfall. Next, I added a sugar cube and dissolved it into the concoction. Finally, a twist of orange peel was squeezed over the top. With a quick stir, I pushed the cocktail in front of the man.

He lifted the glass and brought it to his nose, taking in the aroma before taking a sip. He hummed satisfied and nodded his head in approval. “I gotta say, you really improved my mood making an old-fashioned this good.”

“I take pride in giving my customers the best drinks and service,” I answered.

Even if it’s rich assholes like you.

“Say, have you heard from Lisa?” he asked.

I clenched my jaw and said nothing.

“The stripper I was with last time you saw me.”

I almost said ‘I know who you’re talking about. I’m not fucking stupid,’ but I caught myself. “Can’t say that I have, but I can guess that she’s unavailable at the moment. She does have a life outside of her work.”

“Do you know when she’ll be back?”

“Afraid I can’t help you with that, sir. I don’t know her schedule.”

“Can you get a hold of her and tell her that she has a client waiting for her.”

“She’s a dancer, not a sex worker.”

“Stripper. Prostitute. Same thing.”

I felt my annoyance wash over me like a sea on the ocean coast. I’m not one to be violent unless in situations that require me to defend myself. But I felt the biggest urge to knock his teeth out of his mouth for the way he was talking about Lisa. I was honestly surprised at the amount of self-control I had at that moment.

The man grunts as he pushed the empty glass toward me. “I was really looking forward to seeing her dance for me again,” he said. “She really knows how to hold a man’s attention. Not to forget sexy.”

He smirked. “Wonder if she’d be a good fuck just as she is a good stripper.”

I stoically stared at the man and sighed, taking his glass.

“I take it that you have a wife and a kid or two with a well-paying job that provides a stable income?” I said. 

The man arched an eyebrow. “Well colour me impressed. How did you guess?”

“Well, I’ve been in the service industry as a bartender for about nine years. You meet a lot of different kinds of people.” I shrugged as I began fixing his drink.

“Okay, but why suddenly bring up my family?”

I nodded my head towards his ring finger that adorned the golden band. “The ring you’re wearing is a symbol of a promise you made to love, honour and cherish your wife the day she put it on your finger,” I told him. “and here you are in this establishment breaking and dishonouring that promise.”

The man’s smile faded as his expression became dark and grave. I could tell that I hit him in a sore spot and struck a nerve.

“The thing about old-fashioned drinkers is that they’re traditionalists who enjoy the traditional way of life and cling on to the past. But they’re also risk takers, always willing to shake things up at any given chance even if it means risking everything,” I continued. “I can imagine that you worked hard for the life that you have. A well-paying job, a wife who I assume is a stay-at-home wife who looks after the kids and makes the home a home. But you’re risking everything you’ve worked built – your marriage, your family, your future – the very symbol and foundation holding your life together for momentary pleasure.”

“You don’t know me or my story, kid,” he spewed venom in his tone.

“True,” I conceded with a nod. “But I’ve met enough people like you to know how you work and function. You all are looking and seeking something outside of what you have because you’re either not satisfied or selfish.”

The man scoffed and laughed. “You could have just said that you’re that whore’s boyfriend.”

“I don’t need to be a boyfriend to call you out on your bullshit or be obligated to give you access to her just to satisfy what you lack in your marriage,” I said.

“She made herself very much accessible given the nature of her job.”

“Yeah, well, at least she’s not going to suffer for your mistakes and foolishness now. Will she?”

The tension hung in the silence. I pushed the finished old-fashioned towards the man and smiled. “Here’s your drink, sir.”

He was very annoyed with me, but he downed his drink in one swig. As he got up and walked away, he muttered, “You can forget about getting a tip from me, prick.”

[ms-liz-steele]

No Love Extract #9

[ms-liz-steele]

No Love

Pole Dancer!Lisa x Bartender!Male OC | smut, drama, romance

-> Synopsis: Ollie has one rule he lives by: never mix work with his personal life.

But what happens when he sets his eyes on a dancer one night at a club during his shift.

New Chapters Every Monday

chapters index | ongoing

Gin Fizz

☾︎✯☽︎

I cringed at the sound of the glass shattering on the floor.

“Damnit, Ollie! That’s the tenth lowball glass you broke this week!” Jennie, our lovely bar manager, exclaimed frustrated. She wore an exasperated glare over her sharp facial features as she strode towards the bar.

“Sorry,” I responded.

“Sorry is not going to unbreak the glass you clumsily dropped,” she criticised. “I expect this type of thing from Felix.”

“Hey! I never broke a thing since I started working here!” Felix yelled from the tables.

“Again, I’m sorry. It’s been a work-long week trying to balance regular work and freelance work,” I sighed.

“Well, get it together. The next time you fuck up or break something, it’s coming out of your pay check.” She said before turning her heels to leave for her office.

“As long as it’s coming from just my pay check and not my tips,” I muttered under my breath as I made my way to the back of the bar to retrieve the broom and dustpan. Chaeyoung had already arrived at the bar by the time I returned to clean up the mess.

“Mind the shattered glass,” I cautioned her as I kneeled and got started clearing the glassy mess into the dustpan.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Someone was being clumsy and now we have broken glass on the floor. That’s what happened,” I responded.

“That clumsy person being you?” she mused. 

“Bingo.”

“Seems unlike you.”

Well, everything seems unlike me these days and not even I understand why that is, I thought as I got up on his seat and walked over to the nearest trashcan. Once upon a time, I was just a simple guy with strong morals who knew how to separate his work and personal life. Then all of a sudden, I found myself in a weird situationship with a co-worker and I don’t even know how that happened.

Well, I did. I was just trying to wrap my head around how and why I let it happen in the first place.

“Everything okay?” Chaeyoung asked.

“I’m fine, Chae. Just having a weird week is all.” I answered.

“Or it could be a girl,” Jin chimed into the conversation as he took a seat at the bar.

I arched an eyebrow. “What brought you to that conclusion?”

“Because you’ve been like this ever since Lisa kissed you. That and I’m a bored troll looking for drama and tea,” he smirked mischievously. 

I narrowed my eyes at him. I wasn’t at all surprised by his response, but I was annoyed at him, nonetheless.

“So, who is this lovely but mysterious lady who’s occupying your headspace, hyung dearest.” Jin placed his chin on top of his interlaced hands.

“No one you should be concerned about, Seokjin,” I answered bluntly.

“My, my! Using full names are we? Must be serious?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“No!” I said forcefully but caught myself. “No, we’re just talking.”

“So there is a girl?”

There was a brief pause before I mumbled with a slight blush on my cheeks, “I won’t confirm nor deny that fact.”

“Oooh! Don’t be shy. Fill my cup.”

“You don’t have a cup.”

“Shut up! You know what I mean.”

There was another pause and I shrugged. “She’s just someone I’ve been talking to for some time but it’s nothing serious.”

“Is it Lisa?” he teased.

“No! That ship sailed and sunk after that kiss. You know I don’t date co-workers,” I snapped.

“Alright! Jeez. Defensive much,” Jin rolled his eyes before turning to Chaeyoung. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Hey, leave me out of this,” she raised her hands and walked away.

He rolled his eyes, “Anyways, so what’s the deal with mystery girl then?”

I averted my eyes from his and brushed my fingers through my hair, looking a bit lost in thought. “I don’t know. As I’ve said, we’ve only talked and hung out a few times. She’s good company to have around, but I don’t know if it’s anything serious. It’s too early to tell.”

“Why?”

“Because I have a problem liking a girl and stopping halfway the moment the crush or interest wears off and becomes nonexistent.”

Jin gave me a perplexed look. “Have you ever been in a relationship before?”

I shook my head. “Never saw the need or the appeal for it. It’s not really my forte and I don’t see myself committing to anyone.”

“So why bother entertaining this girl if that’s where your mind is at, hyung?”

I wish I knew.

Suddenly, my phone started ringing in my pocket. I sighed when I saw my father’s name on my screen. “I gotta take this.”

I quickly made my way to the back to answer the call. “Hey, Pa. Now is not a good time.”

“When is it ever a good time?” I could sense him rolling his eyes. “I thought I could check on my one and only son, but apparently my presence is a luxury.”

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Anyways, there’s something I want to talk to you about,” his tone suddenly became serious.

I arched an eyebrow. Unlike me, my father isn’t always the serious type of man. He’s usually upbeat, jolly and jovial for the most part. The only time he’s ever acted out of his usual self is usually when he brings up serious, difficult and potentially touchy subjects when it was necessary.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’s about your mother.”

I froze. I clenched my jaw and tightened my grip on my phone. “What does she want?” I asked, my voice void of any emotion.

“She reached out to me recently and said that she wants to talk to us both,” my father said gently and cautiously. “She didn’t go into the specifics as to why other than that it was important.”

“I see…” I answered.

There was silence between us. Dad must have been waiting for my response knowing how I felt about him bringing my estranged mother and why he even bothered entertaining her in the first place. So, I took a deep breath and thought very carefully about what I wanted to say.

“While I do appreciate you telling me this, I want nothing to do with her.”

“Ollie—”

“I’ve moved on with my life, Pa. I don’t see any benefit from revisiting the past and I certainly don’t see why she thought she could just waltz back into our lives and act like she never left us.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. I could hear him breathing slowly and steadily. I knew that he was going to respect my decision and not impose, but I also knew that deep down he hoped that I was going to give it a chance and at least hear her out. He may have thought that it would help with seeking closure for both of us, but in reality, it was he who wanted closure. I had already made peace with her absence and moved on.

Finally, my father spoke, “I understand, son. I won’t impose this on you if it’s not what you want. But just know that if you ever change your mind, she’ll listen. I’m sure she’s changed.”

“I doubt that, but thanks,” I smiled bitterly before hanging up the phone.

I stood outside, thinking about the conversation I had with my father and decided to push it at the back of my head and focus on the present. I had a life to live, one that didn’t include my estranged mother.

[ms-liz-steele]

PSA To The "Digital/Concept Artists and Graphic Designers": I Am Not Interested In Having My Work Adapted Into Comics.

I had been receiving the offers since November of last year. I was flattered at the idea of my stories being so good that I have artists reaching out to me to want to adapt them into comics or make concept art for my stories at first. And I would have loved to support them if I was in the position to do so financially.

But as soon as I started to pick on the pattern in their messages, I started to realise something:

These people may not ACTUALLY be digital/concept artists and are preying on and scamming writers on Fanfiction.Net and Wattpad into monetising our work for their own benefit and greed.

These people don't care about our stories. They want our money and reap the benefits of our work without us benefitting from it.

I have been receiving these messages non-stop it's become harassment at this point.

And I am truly and utterly disgusted that these people are tainting and misrepresenting real digital/concept artists just because they're desperate for money.

If you're a writer and if you've been receiving messages like this: don't fall for it.

And if possible, share this to as many people as possible.

[ms-liz-steele]

Gothic Academia (Mikasa Ackerman FF)

Mikasa Ackerman x Male OC | smut, drama, romance, college au

-> Synopsis: Mikasa wasn't one to express herself that way to everyone outside of her friends Eren and Armin and on some rare occasions with him since she was usually stoic and withdrawn. He didn't mind it, but he always appreciated rare moments like these where he got to see her in her natural element.

chapters index | prev chapter | completed

Two

༒︎

As the night wore on, Mikasa found herself drawn into the depths of Tobio's amber eyes, her heart fluttering like a trapped bird against the confines of her chest. Despite her initial reservations, there was something about the simplicity of his presence, the way his gaze held both curiosity and warmth, that made her heart race in a way she couldn't explain. His comment about finding her sexy echoed in her mind, and she couldn't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and excitement. "Hey, Tobio. Can I ask you something?"

He ceased scribbling notes in his notepad and looked at her with eyes wide with curiosity - a small thing he always did when he gave her his undivided attention. "What's up?"

She suddenly felt herself hesitate. She swallowed the lump in her throat and licked her lips. "Do you..." she paused briefly. "do you really think I'm sexy?"

She gazed at him and held her breath, awaiting his response. She wasn't annoyed or mad, just curious to know and anxious to find out what his response was going to be.

Tobio met her gaze without hesitation, his eyes sincere. "I do," he replied, his voice steady and unwavering.

The simplicity of his response took her off guard, leaving her both surprised and intrigued.

Short and to the point, gadamn.

"But, like... why do you think that?" she pressed, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Is it just because I'm physically attractive?"

He shook his head gently, a small smile tugging at his lips. "While I do appreciate physical looks, personality is what really matters to me," he explained. "I mean, you can be Kylie Jenner hot but be the most insufferable and annoying person in existence."

Mikasa snorted, crinkling her nose. "Wouldn't call myself Kylie Jenner hot, though."

"Well, at least you're less annoying and drama-free."

"True," she conceded. "but what do you like about my personality?"

"Well, you're smart and intelligent and I find women like that incredibly sexy," he said. "You have this duality. You're stoic, cold and more than capable of biting someone's head off with the right amount of motivation. But you're also passionate and playful once people get to know you. And I've had the honour of seeing both sides of you."

Mikasa felt a warm blush creep onto her cheeks, moved by his words. "You have a way with words. I'll give you that," she mumbled, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"But I mean it," he told her. "Every single word."

A comfortable silence settled between them, filled with unspoken emotions that seemed to dance in the air. Mikasa, feeling an inexplicable pull, rose from her spot and moved closer to him. Tobio's eyes widened slightly, watching her intently as she sat beside him. Their gazes met, and Mikasa spoke, her voice barely a whisper in the quiet room. "Can I tell you something personal, Tobio?"

"Sure," he replied, his voice soft and encouraging.

Mikasa paused briefly, biting her bottom lip, choosing her words carefully. "I... sometimes I wish I wasn't alone," she confessed, her eyes fixed on the coffee table before meeting his gaze. "I have Eren and Armin, but they have their own lives and schedules. I prefer solitude, but there are moments when I wish I had people who genuinely want to spend time with me, to understand me. Is that stupid of me to ask for?"

Tobio's expression softened, understanding the vulnerability in her words. "It's not stupid to desire human connection, Mikasa. Being alone is fine and great but it sucks most of the time."

"I guess," she replied, a small smile touching her lips. "But I can't relate with most people, especially girls in our year. They often perceive me as some sort of witch, waiting to perform a ritual sacrifice. Not all goth girls are into witchcraft, Becky." She rolled her eyes.

"People are weird. That's what I always say," Tobio commented.

"Right!" she agreed, her eyes meeting his with a mix of gratitude and contentment. "But... out of all the people I've met and talked to, I actually enjoy your company, Tobio. You're one of the few people I tolerate."

"I'm glad," he said, his smile warm and genuine.

At that moment, the atmosphere shifted, an unspoken tension lingering between them. They were close, so close that Mikasa could feel the heat emanating from his body. Their eyes locked, searching and longing, and Tobio's amber eyes dropped to her rosy pink lips. His throat tightened as he gathered the courage to speak, his words barely audible. "Would it be stupid of me to ask for a kiss?" he asked, his voice laced with vulnerability, his amber eyes met her dark grey orbs.

Mikasa didn't feel offended; instead, his question felt right, almost fated. She smiled, shaking her head gently. "No," she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's not stupid."

The room fell into silence, thick with anticipation. Their lips hovered just inches apart until Mikasa tilted her head slightly, her lips meeting his in a gentle, tentative kiss. The touch was soft, yet it sent electric waves through her body. They lingered, savouring the moment, until another kiss followed, deeper and more fervent. Mikasa gasped softly as Tobio pulled her closer, his grip firm yet tender. His warmth enveloped her, and she sighed contentedly, her arms wrapping around his neck as their lips melded in a passionate kiss. Tobio's hand found its place on her waist, the other cupping her cheek, his thumb caressing her jawline.

Their lips moved in sync, their breaths mingling, tongues dancing in a silent, intimate conversation. Mikasa's hands explored the contours of Tobio's scalp, while his hands ventured beneath her hoodie, the touch sending shivers down her spine. Time seemed to blur, their connection deepening with every heartbeat, every sigh, until they became lost in the sweet embrace of each other's lips, revelling in the unspoken words that passed between them.

Suddenly, Tobio got up, effortlessly lifting Mikasa with him. A gasp escaped her lips, and she instinctively clung to him, her arms wrapping around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist to steady herself. Surprise and excitement lit up her eyes, creating a radiant glow on her face. Their smiles met, mirroring the shared anticipation, and they leaned in for another tender kiss as Tobio carried her towards her room.

They reached her room, and with a sense of urgency, Mikasa slammed the door shut behind them. Tobio gently guided her toward the twin-sized mattress, his touch firm yet tender. As he climbed on top of her, their eyes locked, both sets burning with desire and a raw, unspoken lust.

Mikasa's fingers instinctively found their way to Tobio's glasses, a delicate caress tracing the frames. She had acknowledged his cuteness and handsomeness earlier, but now, without the barrier of his glasses, his features were strikingly evident. A tiny mole adorned the corner of his left eye, and his slender nose accentuated his sharp, attractive features. His lips were just right, not too thin yet not overly plump, and his eyes, now unobstructed, gleamed with intensity, adding to his allure.

As she removed his glasses, Mikasa felt herself getting pulled by his lips once more, savouring his taste. "Tobio..." her voice was light as a whisper, husky and sultry. She was eager and desperate for him.

Tobio gently lowered the zipper of her hoodie, his touch careful and deliberate. Her body came into view, the fabric parting to reveal her figure. Mikasa's breasts were modest, neither overly large nor too small, a perfect balance that seemed to captivate him. His hands rubbed them both, his thumbs caressing and teasing the rosy buds of her nipples.

She gasped sharply, her body tensed up at the contact and her core starting to throb. Tobio leaned down and kissed one of her tits, prompting a shuddering moan to escape her lips. Her head tilted back against her pillow; her body arched towards him longing for him. She bit her lip, stifling her moans. Tobia continued sucking her breast, his tongue swirling and teasing her nipple and areola.

"Mmm," she bit her lower lip, stifling a moan.

Tobio's hands hesitated near the waistband of her shorts, his eyes seeking permission in the depths of her gaze. Without a word, he silently asked for her consent. Mikasa nodded, her consent evident in the subtle movement of her head, giving him the unspoken permission to proceed.

With a quiet determination, she lifted her hips, allowing him to deftly strip off her shorts and underwear. The garments fell to the floor, forgotten remnants of a moment now consumed by the intensity of their shared desire. Her womanhood was already glistening from her arousal. "Oh," she silently moaned when she felt Tobio's thumb caress the bud of her clit.

Tobio trailed soft kisses on her neck, her stomach and her thighs. He stopped just a few inches from her throbbing womanhood, his mouth hovering over her lower lips. The sight of her folds, all wet and puffy, waiting to be devoured by him evoked a lustful ache between his legs and caused his jeans to be tighter.

He began at her most sensitive part, licking her mound, kissing the outer lips of her pussy with a tenderness that left her wetter and hotter than before. She moaned, her hips jerking up suddenly as Tobio's lips and tongue teased the hood of her clit. She squirmed, tightening her grip on her pillow as she felt the pleasure consume and wash over her like a wave. Tobio's hands were kneading her breasts and pinching her nipples, his tongue now thrusting into her velvety walls.

His lips and chin were coated in her slick. Her free hand gripped his head, begging for more. Tobio moans, moving his lips back to her clit and inserting two fingers into her hole.

"Ah! Fuck!" she screamed, her body trembling at the feeling of his tongue and his digits thrusting in and out of her. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna-"

Her eyes rolled back letting out an inaudible gasp. Her body arched; her legs shook as she rode out her orgasm. Tobio slurped and licked her cum, making her whimper from overstimulation in the process before pulling away.

Mikasa's gaze trailed over Tobio as he removed his clothes, appreciating the contours of his physique. He possessed a lean build, his form neither overly muscular nor excessively slender. His body was compact, yet his shoulders boasted a broad, sturdy frame. When he began to take off his jeans and boxers, she blushed and admired the size of his cock.

"Anything you like?" he mused with a smirk.

"Just wondering if your friend is going to fit," Mikasa replied, her tone teasing, as she effortlessly slipped off her hoodie and tossed it aside.

"With how wet you are, I'm sure it will fit right in."

She snorted. "Never thought Mr Dorky McGoodie Two Shoes would be vulgar and dirty."

His grin widened as he playfully hooked his fingers around her leg, gently tugging her closer. She gasped in surprise, her laughter bubbling up at the unexpected gesture. "Sorry to disappoint," he told her. "You on the pill?"

She nodded.

"Good. 'cause I want to come inside of you."

They shared a knowing grin, their lips interlocking, and their tongues engaging in an intimate dance. A soft, melodious moan escaped Mikasa's lips as she pulled him closer, her arms wrapping around his neck, her fingers gently tangling in his hair.

Tobio rubbed his cock against her core and started slowly inserting himself inside her. They both gasped at the sudden contact as their pelvic bones merged. Mikasa was wet enough for him to slide inside her smoothly without hurting her, but man her walls had an iron grip around him so tight that he was surprised that he hadn't cum in her at that moment.

"You okay?" he asked in a grunt.

"Y-yeah," she nodded vigorously. "You can move now."

Tobio slowly pulled out then snapped his hips, thrusting back inside her. He started slow until he established a steady rhythm. Mikasa was lost in the moment. She bucked her hips, meeting his thrusts, letting out soft moans as their bodies moved in an intimate dance. "Tobio..." she said breathlessly. "You feel so good..."

"You too..." he groaned, rolling his hips. "Your pussy is so tight and wet for me."

Tobio opened her legs wider and pushed them further back, thrusting deep inside her. "Ah! Fuck. You're so deep," she cried out, throwing her head back against her pillow. "You feel so good inside me."

"Is that so?" he grunted breathlessly, clenching his teeth, quickening the pace of his thrusts. "You like it when my cock is ramming deep inside you?"

"Yes! Yes! Oh God, yes!" she rambled in a high pitch. "Just like that."

Tobia sat up straight and lifted her hips into a new position. Their moans and groans filled the room. Their bodies were covered in sweat and sin. Their eyes locked, speaking volumes in the silent language of desire and longing, conveying their unspoken lust and passion for each other.

"Tobio... I'm close..." Tears started building up from the corner of her eyes.

"Come for me, baby," he whined, his grip on her hips now becoming tight as he chased his climax. "I want to see your face when you come."

She lifted her head and looked at him. Her body tensed, her toes curled and she let out a silent gasp when she orgasmed. Soon after, Tobio snapped his hips one last time and came inside her. Mikasa whimpered from overstimulation as Tobio stroked her a few times until he pulled out and collapsed on top of her without crushing her. They stayed in that position, panting and catching their breaths.

"Wow," Mikasa broke the silence, her voice barely a whisper. "This was not how I imagined studying would go."

He let out a breathy laugh, meeting her gaze with a playful glint in his eyes. "Any regrets?" he asked, his tone light yet genuine.

She stared at him, her eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and contentment. A smile curved her lips as she shook her head. "No. It was unexpected, but it was worth it."

"Well," he said, a playful grin spreading across his face, "let's hope we earn those distinctions for such a stellar performance," he added, his tone teasing as they shared a moment of shared laughter, the weight of their unspoken connection lingering in the air between them. "Oh my gosh," she laughed, pushing him off her and turning to her side. "You know, even though you're older than me, you sure act like a child."

"Woman, I can bend you over and make you call me daddy. Don't play with me," he smirked devilishly.

Her face turned bright red and her jaw dropped. "Oh, fuck you."

"You already did but I'm open for seconds," he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Shut up," she slapped his chest, making him laugh.

They lay in bed in silence, basking in the afterglow of their intimacy. "Would you..." Mikasa's voice was soft and tentative as she spoke. "Would you... maybe want to do this again sometime soon?" Her words carried a mix of curiosity and hope, hanging in the air like a fragile thread.

A grin tugged at the corners of Tobio's lips. "Who am I to refuse such a generous offer?" he replied, his voice laced with playful amusement.

She chuckled, her eyes glinting with mischief, and rolled her eyes playfully. Closing the distance between them, she pressed her lips against his in a series of gentle pecks. Each touch was tender, a silent promise of the moments they might share in the future. Tobio responded, his hand cupping her face, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss, their lips melding together in sweet, stolen moments of passion.

[ms-liz-steele]

Gothic Academia (Mikasa Ackerman FF)

Mikasa Ackerman x Male OC | smut, drama, romance, college au

-> Synopsis: Mikasa wasn't one to express herself that way to everyone outside of her friends Eren and Armin and on some rare occasions with him since she was usually stoic and withdrawn. He didn't mind it, but he always appreciated rare moments like these where he got to see her in her natural element.

chapters index | next chapter | completed

One

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"Wanna get outta here?" Tobio looked up from his work and stared at the gothic girl with a curious look. 

They were seated in the corner next to the window at the study centre. She's seated across from him, preoccupied with her phone. Mikasa exuded an effortlessly cool aura in her gothic ensemble. Her raven-black pixie cut framed her delicate features, emphasizing her sharp, determined eyes and her lips were painted dark plum. Strands of obsidian hair grazed her temples and nape, adding a touch of edginess to her overall appearance. 

She glanced up, arching an eyebrow with a stoic expression. "You weren't expecting me to actually work on this assignment, were you?" she scoffed.

"It is a group assignment," he reminded her. "It requires a group effort."

Mikasa rolls her eyes. "Well, this assignment is not worth my time and effort," she argued. "I'm not about to waste my time and brain cells on an analysis of 'The Blessed Girl.'"

"It's not that bad."

"The Bloomsbury version was simply the author's attempt to appease some overly sensitive feminists who complained about the harsh ending in the Pan Macmillan version and got paid for it. I'm dying on this hill." She growled, pointing a finger at him. "Besides, I could be doing something worthwhile with my time, like partying and drinking with friends."

"Well, this module is compulsory. You need to pass this class to graduate," Tobio reminded her, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Might as well suck it up until the end of the semester."

Mikasa glared at him, as if ready to cut his head off. Tobio raised his hand in surrender, not wanting to argue further. "Anyways," she continued, "I don't get why we're getting assignments on top of tests, exams, and continuous assessments. I mean, we're in university for crying out loud. If I wanted homework, I could have just stayed in high school, but here we fucking are."

"It comes with the degree, Mikasa. How else are they going to assess us?" he answered.

She scoffed, annoyed. "I've been scoring straight As for damn near every test and quiz for this module. What more do they want to know? It's not like the professors take the time to actually read three to five-page essays. All they have to do is look at the Turnitin plagiarism percentage, fancy words, slap a random letter from the alphabet based on their mood, and if they like us, then call it a day."

"You still salty about Professor Ackerman giving you a C- on your last assignment?"

"Oh, most definitely. I didn't put my blood, sweat, and tears into an essay on child psychology just for that middle-aged midget to give me a C-."

Tobio chuckled at her rant. It was a mystery how Mikasa was studying Psychology instead of Criminal Justice, considering her passion for justice. She would make a great lawyer or judge.

"Well, if you wanna leave, I won't stop you," Tobio told her. "Based on what we have, I'd say that we're already done with this assignment."

"Great! 'cause it's Friday and I'm hitting the club and getting wasted. Wanna come?"

Tobio made a face at the offer. "Hard pass. Not only is clubbing not my scene, I have a shit tone of essays to finish grading."

Mikasa's eyebrows furrow with confusion. "I'm a tutor." He told her.

"Why would you punish yourself this way, dude!" she asked, shock present in her tone.

"Good resume and extra cash."

She stared at him like he was an odd phenomenon and burst into laughter. "Okay, I knew you were a dork, but I never would have thought you were goody two shoes."

"What can I say, I value my education and my future," he shrugged with a smirk. "Now run along. Wouldn't want you to miss out on your Friday shemons."

"Hilarious," she rolled her eyes. She got up and started packing her stuff into her bag.

"Don't forget that we're meeting at your place to study for next week's test," he reminded her.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she waved her hand dismissively. "But you better not be copying my answers while we're studying. Got it?"

"Please," he rolled his eyes. "I have too much pride to stoop that low, sweetheart."

She hummed, satisfied but still a little amused. "Just making sure." With a wave, she left the study centre.

"Have fun," he called after her.

༒︎

Tobio rang the bell and adjusted the strap of his backpack as he waited for Mikasa at her door. In contrast to Mikasa's gothic style, Tobio's attire was plain and simple; denim jeans, a black T-shirt, a grey jacket, and a pair of red and blue vans. His hair, which was once a buzzcut, had grown into spikes over the past three months, but he had recently trimmed the sides, giving it a faded look. He wore his glasses over his amber eyes. It was low-effort but decent and presentable - just the way he liked it.

A minute later, the door opened, revealing Mikasa in a more casual ensemble that contrasted with her usual gothic look. Her attire remained dominantly black, consisting of a zipped-up black hoodie that offered a glimpse of her cleavage, and a pair of black cotton shorts that accentuated her hips, tracing a path down to her waist. Her dark makeup, a signature part of her style, was still present, though her eyeliner, though not as bold, highlighted her captivating dark grey eyes. Just below the corner of her left eye was a faint scar, adding an intriguing touch to her already enigmatic allure.

"You're early," she stated with a stoic expression, leaning against the doorpost.

Tobio shrugged. "I like being punctual."

"You won't die or have a stroke if you're just a few minutes late, you know."

"I know. But punctuality has its perks. You should try it."

She rolled her eyes, opened the door wider and moved to the side. "Come on in."

Tobio walked inside her little studio apartment and noticed how... normal it looked. He would have thought that given her taste, Mikasa's apartment would have a dark and gothic touch and aesthetic to it, but the simplicity of the décor and interior design from the all-white painted walls, the furniture, the light brown wooden floor and the grey curtains surprised him.

However, despite how normal and clean her small studio apartment was the faint smell of cigarettes from the ashtray on the coffee where her books and notes were scattered. She must have been studying before he came.

"Sorry about that," she quickly removed the tray and disposed of its contents in the dust bin in the kitchen. "It's kinda a habit to smoke while I'm studying."

"No, no, no. It's fine," he assured with a smile. "You're fine."

"Great! Now that you're here, we can get started," she sat down on the floor in front of the coffee table. "I remember you saying that you need help with Literature. Anything specific?"

"Ah yeah," he placed his backpack on the floor and sat down across from her. "I've been having trouble with the Gothic Era. I figure that given your aesthetic, it's your area of expertise."

"Oh my gosh, yes! I have so much I wanna talk about," her face beamed with excitement. "There's so much to cover... how about we start with its characteristics? The history and background might be a bit too complex for you."

Tobio gave her a "The floor is yours" hand gesture, "Take it away, Professor Ackerman."

"Haha! Very funny," sarcasm dripped in her tone as she rolled her eyes. "Anyways, one of the key characteristics of the Gothic Era is its tone and themes which are horror and romanticism. If you look at the literature during that time, they mostly dwelled on supernatural, death, torture, the list goes on."

Tobio listened to her attentively. It was funny how Mikasa always expressed her distaste for doing assignments and school work but still excelled in her studies and was at the top of the class. She was smart and intelligent, probably even smarter than him in some of the classes he took with her.

While he acknowledged her level of intellect, he also came to admire and appreciate her passion for the things she loves or generally anything that sparked her interest. The way her face would light up and her dark grey eyes would sparkle when she talked about her favourite band or a book she recently picked up. The way her eyes would burn with fire and her jaw would clench when she ranted about her pet peeves or when she argued and challenged opinions different from her own.

Mikasa wasn't one to express herself that way to everyone outside of her friends Eren and Armin and some rare occasions him since she was usually stoic and withdrawn. He didn't mind it, but he always appreciated rare moments like these where he got to see her in her natural element.

Not forget, he had a thing for intelligent women.

She's so sexy when she explains stuff, he thought without realising that he blurted those words out loud.

Mikasa, who was explaining examples of gothic themes in Wuthering Heights, paused. "Did you... did you just call me sexy?" A tinge of red appeared on her cheeks, surprised by what Tobio said.

Tobio snapped out of his trance and flushed with embarrassment. "Shit. Did I say that out loud?"

"Umm... yeah... pretty much," she answered with an awkward chuckle, her cheeks still red. "I mean thanks... I guess?"

"I am so sorry. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable," He said, now getting worried that he creeped her out.

She shrugged her shoulders. "A compliment is a compliment. I don't mind it even though you're not my type honestly."

Ouch, he thought. I mean fair. She's allowed to have a type and a preference. But still... ouch. "So who's your type then? Eren?"

She made a face. "I mean... we dated before but it got weird and toxic and we decided to just stay friends," she sighed scratching her head. "I dunno. It's complicated, but one thing for sure is that if you're too weak to handle all this," she gestured to herself. "then you're not worth my time."

"Oooh! Yas queen," he cheered, snapping his fingers. "We stan a woman with standards."

She chuckled, leaning back against the couch and resting her arms on her knees. "Yeah, like sure I dress in black and wear dark makeup which practically makes me a goth girl, but that's just how I dress and express myself." She paused briefly. "But I do like guys who are smart and can have deep conversations with. Just as long they make it past my resting bitch face."

Tobio laughed. "Then I'm happy to say that I'm one of those guys."

"Question," she leaned forward, placing her elbow on the coffee table and putting her hand on her chin, her expression now serious. "Do you think I'm cold and unemotional?"

Tobio blinked, taken aback by the sudden question and change in atmosphere. "It's just... I've always wondered what people think of me... well people besides Eren and Armin," she explained. "I know I'm not exactly friendly and approachable, but I'm just curious to know."

Tobio leaned back and pondered her question. He had only known her since freshman year, unlike Eren and Armin who've known her since childhood. He did get the impression that she was cold and emotionless - at first at least - but he thought of her as reserved and withdrawn. It didn't drive him away even when they first started talking, but it did take some time for her to warm up to him and he didn't mind that.

"Well... I think you're capable of expressing yourself, but only to those you trust and feel comfortable with," he answered truthfully. "I'd say you're more cautious and self-conscious than cold and unemotional. You know yourself and how people might react and receive the real you since you have a strong and intense personality. But that's just me."

Mikasa nodded her head slowly, taking in his words. "Well... having a tough childhood does that to you..." she said with a sad smile.

Tobio felt a pang of empathy in his gut. She didn't go into the nitty gritty details about her life and past but he already had a rough idea of how hard it was for her. "Sorry to hear that,"

She shook her head and smiled, a genuine one this one. "It's okay, I had friends and family who looked out for me," she said before clearing her throat. "Anyways, sob story's over. I still need to explain Wuthering Heights and its gothic themes to you so pay attention."

He chuckled. "Yes, ma'am."

[ms-liz-steele]

Gothic Academia (Mikasa Ackerman FF)

Mikasa Ackerman x Male OC | smut, drama, romance, college au

-> Synopsis: Mikasa wasn't one to express herself that way to everyone outside of her friends Eren and Armin and on some rare occasions with him since she was usually stoic and withdrawn. He didn't mind it, but he always appreciated rare moments like these where he got to see her in her natural element.

chapters index | next chapter | completed

Chapter Index

One

Two