#(tagging only because that's where this started from. sorry for cluttering the tag)

[pretzel-box]

Hi Chea!!! First of all, I read some of ur fics, and I absolutely loved it. You did such a great job :D

Second, I wanna make a fic request because why not lol. It's my first time doing this, so I'm a lil nervous ishdudjudos

Can I pls get a fic where reader gets ill (like probably a cold or whatever) because of them constantly entering bodies of water and by the time they reach Sebastian, they're wet and miserable as hell so Sebastian just decides to keep them in his shop to rest and recover lmao

(Sorry if this ask is a mouth full aishdidhhd)

Tags: GN!Reader, Can be read as Established Relationship, Reader has a cold probably, comfort, slight fluff.

Words: 1,1k

Authors Note: Sorry for the wait! ÓwÒ It took me a while to gather my creative brain cells. I actually edited this story twice, so if there are any weird words or logic mistakes then I overlooked something!

It had started as a small, nagging tickle in your throat—a little cough here, a sniffle there. Nothing serious, you told yourself. But days passed, and that tickle had grown into something worse. Yet, despite it, you kept going, pushing through the feverish haze that had begun to creep in. After all, the job wasn’t going to finish itself. Each day, you found yourself wading through rooms, water, and debris, trudging through wet halls to retrieve all assets and the crystal that were needed, drenched to the bone in cold, murky water.

You told yourself that once you were done, you’d rest. But for now, you have to keep moving. And so you did. Rest means death and death isn't something you aimed at for now. So it either meant pushing through or giving up.

By the time you reached Sebastian’s shop, the combination of the relentless water and your refusal to take care of yourself had finally caught up with you. The cold had settled deep into your bones, and your wet diving suit clung to your skin, sticking uncomfortably as you stumbled inside his little store. The warmth of the room hit you like a wave, making your head swim, and you stopped just inside the door, breathing heavily.

Sebastian, stood in front of a table and sorted through papers, glanced up the moment you entered. His usual sarcastic smile froze as his gaze took in your appearance.

You looked a mess—soaked, shivering, and pale, with dark circles under your eyes and a slight flush on your cheeks from the fever you were clearly running. Water dripped from your hair, forming a small puddle on the floor beneath you. For a moment, he just stared at you, incredulous.

“Are you serious?” Sebastian’s voice broke the silence, his usual dry tone tinged with something close to concern. “You look like death warmed up in a microwave. I don't sell coffins here yet.

You tried to muster a reply, maybe something sarcastic, but all that came out was a hoarse cough. The effort left you feeling even more drained than before. Sebastian’s expression softened as he sighed, slithering over to you with a quick glance at the water-soaked floor.

“Come on,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You're staying here. There’s no way I’m letting you go back out like this.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue—not that you would, honestly. The idea of staying in Sebastian’s warm, quiet shop was far more appealing than going back out into the cold, miserable hallways. You let him guide you through the cluttered aisles, past shelves filled with oddities and relics, to a back room that you had only seen in passing.

It was cozy, with a pile of blankets by the barely functioning heater and a couple of scattered books on a nearby table. Sebastian, ever practical despite his tendency to tease, pointed to the pile of blankets. “Sit. Don’t move.”

You collapsed into the pile, grateful for the soft fabrics that seemed to envelop you. The warmth of the heater seeped into your cold, aching limbs, and you closed your eyes for a moment, just trying to shake off the chill that had settled deep into your bones.

Sebastian disappeared for a moment, only to return with a towel, some dry clothes, and a steaming cup of whatever liquid he had in the cup. He tossed the towel onto your lap and then held out the cup, raising an eyebrow when you blinked up at him, surprised.

“I’m not going to sit here and watch you shiver to death,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching in what might’ve been a smile. “Drink up, and then get changed. I’ll turn around if you’re shy.”

You snorted at that, though it turned into another cough. “I think I’m too tired to care.”

Still, his comment brought a bit of warmth to your chest. Sebastian wasn’t always the most outwardly affectionate person, but he had his moments. You took the cup from his hands, wrapping your fingers around it and letting the heat sink into your cold palms.

The tea-like liquid was soothing as it slid down your throat, easing some of the tightness that had built up. Meanwhile, Sebastian busied himself by pulling a blanket from a nearby chest and draping it over your shoulders, creating a little nest of warmth around you.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he asked quietly as he settled onto the edge of a nearby table, watching you closely. “You’re not exactly subtle when you're sick.”

“I thought I could handle it,” you mumbled, tugging the blanket closer. “Didn’t want to bother you.”

Sebastian gave you a look that clearly said, *Are you kidding me?*

“You’re soaked and half-dead, and you thought that wasn’t worth mentioning?” he asked, crossing his arms. “I think that qualifies as a situation where bothering me is okay.”

You sighed, leaning back into the blankets. The heater running softly in the background, the sound oddly comforting as the warmth of the tea and the room finally started to loosen the tightness in your chest.

“Sorry,” you muttered. “I’m just… tired.”

“I’d imagine so,” Sebastian replied, his voice softer now, less teasing. “But next time, just tell me. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

You met his eyes, feeling a mix of gratitude and exhaustion wash over you. “Thanks.”

He nodded, brushing it off with a wave of his hand, though you could tell he was relieved that you were finally letting him help. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get all sentimental on me. Just rest, alright?”

You smiled faintly, shifting in the pile to get more comfortable. The heater, the warmth, the steady presence of Sebastian nearby—it all worked to lull you into a sense of peace that you hadn’t felt in days.

As you started to drift off, you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye on you,” Sebastian murmured. “Just sleep.”

For once, you didn’t fight it. You let yourself relax, your body finally giving in to the exhaustion that had been gnawing at you for so long. And as you fell into a much-needed sleep, you knew you were safe. You were warm, you were cared for—and for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel so alone.

When you woke up later, the room was dim, and the heater had cooled down a bit. Sebastian was still there, sitting in a nearby corner, flipping through a file. He glanced up when he noticed you stirring.

“Feeling better?” he asked, his tone casual, though there was an underlying note of concern.

You nodded, your throat still a little sore, but the rest of you felt… better. Lighter, maybe. “Yeah. A bit.”

“Good.” He closed the book and stood up, stretching. “You’re staying here until you’re completely better. I’m not letting you back out there until I’m sure you won’t collapse in a puddle somewhere.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that had felt oddly comforting. “Deal.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you truly meant it.

[pedgito]

hi bestie, could i please request either steve or eddie, whoever you're feeling more, smoking weed with their good friend f!reader and learning that she gets a major oral fixation when she's high? love your writing the absolute most!

author's note: look, i couldn't choose so you get both. i also don't write steve often so if this is horrible i'm sorry lol

cw: 18+ (minors dni), established friendship, steve is a little clueless, smoking/getting high, threesomes, oral fixation (sorta, i lost focus pretty quick lol), oral (f & m receiving), mentions of steddie, lots of kissing and teasing each other, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 5k

Steve wasn’t supposed to be here—not that you cared, but it was a surprise when you walked through the door that night and he was settled on Eddie’s living room couch, shoes left by the door and his sock covered feet plopped up on the cushion that separated him and Eddie. You can’t even imagine the conversation you interrupted when they both stare at you wide-eyes, like Eddie forget to mention to Steve that you were coming over—or that possibly, he forgot about you coming over at all.

It wasn’t a weekly thing, but Eddie would pick a few random nights out of the month to smoke with you and watch a couple movies—you’d knew each other since grade school, when Eddie had much less of a mane than he did now and wasn’t nearly as intimidating to people. Not that he could ever seem that way to you, it was impossible.

“Oh, hey—” Eddie breathes, fingers tapping absently against the arm of the couch where his arm was slung over, knee tucked up under his forearm, his foot planted firmly against the cushion. He was dressed down, a plain black shirt and similarly colored sweatpants. Steve still had on his work uniform, pinned name tag stuck to his vest, “Steve’s here.”

You smile slightly, closing the door shut behind you and tossing the small bag on snacks on his cluttered kitchen counter. “I see that.” You nod, making eye contact with the culprit, Steve looked severely out of place, “Steve.”

“I should go, right?” Steve asks wearily, finger pointing toward the front door. “I feel like I’m interrupting something—“

“No, it’s fine.” You assure him, “I just—“ A small laugh bubbles from your chest, “since when does Steve Harrington smoke weed?”

“Hey—I’ve smoked before,” Steve defends, “I mean, my parents would kill me if they found out about it, but I have a few times.”

You glance over at Eddie, his face riddled with amusement.

“He’s a crowd smoker, isn’t he?”

“A what?”

“You only smoke around groups because everyone else is doing it—but to answer that question,” Eddie looks at you with a narrowed gaze, “he’s not.”

“Oh?”

You’re intrigued, you couldn’t help it—hanging out with Steve had never been on your agenda, but it wasn’t the worst possible scenario.

“We’ve smoked a few times before,” Eddie explains, “like, once or twice.”

“So, you’re cheating on me with Harrington?” You feign the shot to your ego, hand pressed against your chest as you leaned against the counter, still a large distance from the two boys.

They looked comfortable, at ease—despite your steady friendship with Eddie, you didn’t realize just how close him and Steve had become. You’ve only tagged alone to Family Video a few times with Eddie, figuring most of it was just polite small talk, but it all makes a lot more sense now.

“I could never,” Eddie smiles, reaching for the blunt tucked securely behind his ear, flipping it through his fingers, “anyways, are we gonna start a game of twenty one questions or—“

“Wayne’s gonna kill you if he finds out you smoked on his couch.” You remind him.

“Obviously—“ Eddie retorts, “that’s why we’re moving this to the bedroom.”

You grimace in subtle disgust, “God, why do you say it like that?”

“It’s a special place,” Eddie replies dramatically, “where all the magic happens.”

Steve looks up at you, eyes wide but soft, lips down-turned in a slight frown, “Is he always like this?”

“With me?” You ask redundantly, “Yes.”

Not that you minded any of it, Eddie was probably the only person that could get away with talking to you in such a manor that didn’t make you immediately want to vomit.

Eddie always called it the Munson charm, whatever that was.

Steve coughs through the first couple of drags, not allowing the smoke to reach his lungs properly. It was like watching a baby try to stand on it’s own for the first time and Steve was severely out of his element.

“Have you been letting him smoke like this?” You ask Eddie, eyes widened in shock. Eddie shrugs, pressing the joint to his lips. “You’re a terrible friend.”

“I could shotgun him,” Eddie jokes lightheartedly, “but I don’t need him falling in love with me.”

“Like, when you shotgun a beer?” Steve asks curiously, eyes watching your movements carefully, lips closing around the joint and breathing in deep, chest heaving at the action. His look lingers down the valley of your chest before quickly averting back to your eyes, “I’ve done that before.”

You and Eddie both share a similar laugh, glancing over at Steve with amusement, Eddie offers a soft, “Uh—close, but not really.”

“Not close at all.” You shake your head, looking at Eddie with bemusement. “Steve, have you actually been able to get high? I mean, do you ever feel anything?”

“Well, there was that one time—“ Steve doesn’t elaborate, eyes turned up toward the ceiling as he thought, head tilted slightly, “but that wasn’t weed.”

Your mouth hung open slightly, watching Steve chew at his bottom lip, “I’m not even gonna ask,” You respond, glancing over at Eddie, “—wanna demonstrate?”

Eddie smiles widely, “My pleasure, sweetheart.” Eddie rests his hand on the side of your face, joint shoved between his lips as he breathed in the smoke before carefully holding it off to the side, using the leverage he had on your face to squeeze your mouth open, blowing the smoke into your own mouth, laughing airily as his tongue grazed your own.

Steve couldn’t do anything but stare, eyes glazed over in astonishment as he watched the exchange, both of you pulling back with a satiated smile.

“How have we never done that before?” Eddie asks curiously, pulling back with a subtle pout.

“Because, you disgust me.” You smile, lying through your teeth. You couldn’t openly admit how quickly your mind drifted elsewhere when you got this high, how easily a simple touch could drive you crazy.

Eddie was handsy like this, always finding a reason to cuddle up against you or kiss you lazily—and you didn’t try to stop him, but it was very few and far between that you actually allowed it. You were good at burying it away, offering a small peck or closed-mouth kiss in return, but even that was maddening. If it went further, Eddie would call it out immediately—he had no problem teasing you about it.

“Here, do Harrington.” Eddie suggests with a snide smirk, watching as you rolled your eyes annoyance.

You turned to a curious Steve with a small, comforting smile and mirrored Eddie’s actions, pressing the joint to your lips and grabbing at Steve’s face, which he welcomed easily, tilting his neck slightly as your palm curved around the underside of his firm jaw. You could feel the prickle of stubble against your fingertips, something that sent a surge of excitement through your body despite how hard you tried to ignore it.

“Do I just—“ Steve stammers, quickly interrupted by a head shake from you, pressing your lips to his fully, blowing the smoke into his mouth, a small noise escaping his throat in response, tongue grazing against your top lip accidentally as he pulled away, “—fuck, sorry.”

Eddie can see it on your face when you pull away, swallowing hard as you watched Steve lick his chapped lips, blurting out a, “No fuckin’ way.”

“What?” Both you and Steve respond in unison.

“That’s why you don’t want me kissing you?” Eddie asks, a snide smirk pulling at his face.

“Eddie,” You warn, “shut up.”

Steve eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, watching the exchange between you two.

“Let’s do it again.” Eddie urges, knowing exactly the type of reaction he would get if you let him, “One more time.”

“No.” You grumble, ignoring the immediate interest your body has in the matter.

It wasn’t that you didn’t find Eddie attractive, that wasn’t the case at all—but you and Eddie had always been careful about crossing that line. However, Eddie wasn’t the one who wanted that, it was you. He’d pounce on you in a heartbeat if you allowed it, and frankly, your judgement was skewed at the moment.

“Just the one,” He begs, “and I’ll leave it alone.”

It was a dangerous move to make and you blamed your lack of hesitancy on the high that was creeping in, huffing out a long sigh before waving him forward.

“Fine.” You grumble, an eager Eddie already poised to lean forward. Steve doesn’t know where to look, feeling like he might be intruding, but he watches on anyways.

Eddie presses his lips against yours fully, with all the confidence he can muster, tongue dragging along yours slowly, smoke forgotten about as it seeps through the cracks, bellowing out of his nose as he initiates the kiss. You moan brokenly, eyes falling shut as you played into his game, unable to help yourself. It was just too good.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says lovingly, pulling back for a brief moment, “you’ve been keeping secrets.”

“Am I missing something?” Steve asks, breaking through the tense silence that had developed between you and Eddie, your eyes glaring pensively into his own.

Eddie chuckles deeply, passing the joint to Steve, “I never really noticed until just now—“ He points at you sparingly, “It’s only ever when we smoke that she acts that way and I didn’t think anything of it until I watched you two. I assumed you were just playing it up to mess with me—“

“I like being kissed when I’m high,” You offer bluntly, “or just like—my mouth gets really sensitive, I can’t explain it.”

“I think you just did.” Eddie remarks, offering a sickeningly sweet smile your way.

“Is that bad?” Steve asks, still partially confused. “I don’t see how that’s a problem?”

Eddie makes a noise of triumph, “See, Steve gets it.”

“I get it.” Steve agrees, hands motioning toward himself.

“Great—you’re both geniuses. Now, can we move on?”

Eddie was resilient though—and apparently, so was Steve. They both share a look, similar to what you walked in on earlier. Your eyebrows furrow slightly, glancing between the two of them.

“Hey—no, what was that?” You ask, finger wagging back and forth between the two of them briefly. You’re almost embarrassed to ask, afraid you might be overthinking things. “Wait, are you both, like—“

“No!” Steve responds quickly, clearing his throat to better compose himself, “No, uh—we’ve kissed before but that’s it.”

Something tells you that's a lie.

“Steve was asking if I’ve ever had a threesome.” Eddie interrupts, “I told him no—unfortunately, Steve forced himself into a tricky predicament and now he’s completely in over his head, aren’t you pretty boy?”

“Was I supposed to say no?” Steve asks, like the idea seemed ridiculous. “Who says no to that?”

“Lots of people,” You tell him, “—you don’t need to feel obligated because it’s some, like, rite of fuckin’ passage. That’s all bullshit.”

“I mean, I wanted to.” Steve assures you, “I still want to.”

You press further, “But?”

“I might’ve played it up,” Steve admits, “They’ve both never done it before and I told them I had some experience with it.”

“Steve,” You groan, covering your face with your hands in frustration, “oh my god—you know what, it actually makes total sense.”

“What?” Eddie asks.

“Why you two are friends,” You tell him, holding up your fingers to emphasize your point, “Clueless, full of yourself, and way too horny.”

“So, we’re just drifting over your whole oral fixation thing?” Eddie laughs, “Like that wasn’t just a few minutes ago?”

You clench your jaw, snatching the joint from Steve’s hands angrily and taking a long, deep drag. You weren’t high enough to deal with this, not yet.

“Then what the fuck was that look?” You ask, “Or are we keeping secrets now, Eddie?”

And there’s nothing he hates more than his own words being used against him, a saccharine smile spreading across your face.

“I told Steve I’d be down to help him practice, but that we’d need to find another participant,” Eddie shrugs, “kinda defeats the purpose of a threesome if you can’t find a third.”

“I might’ve brought your name up earlier,” Steve admits shyly, “I was just joking initially—but you walked in right after that.”

It all makes sense then, the weird look and tension that lingered when you stepped foot inside Eddie’s trailer. You could feel it now, but less uncomfortable—and you almost, almost propositioned them yourself. But no, you weren’t nearly as bold as either of them. Plus, with the high kicking in, you couldn’t help yourself.

“I’m not having sex with either of you,” You tell them firmly, and Eddie has the courage to laugh, plucking the joint from your fingers and snuffing it out in the ashtray at his bedside, “not in a million fuckin’ years.”

“Hey, woah—woah,” Eddie chides, “slow your roll, sweetheart.”

Eddie was wounded, but he didn’t show it.

Steve blinks heavily and you can see it on his face, the switch in his demeanor as the weed settles in.

“I just wanted to—I don’t know, test it out?” Steve shrugs, “Some kissing and stuff.”

“Unless you’re afraid to watch us kiss,” Eddie presses, “is that it? Is it too much for you?”

He’s only teasing, but it’s enough to make you retort in annoyance.

“Oh, like when you nearly busted in your pants after I made out with Chrissy Cunningham in front of you at that party last year?” You ask with a snark to your tone, “I can handle myself a lot better than you can, Eddie.”

Steve eyes you wearily, still looking ridiculous in his work uniform, the vest bunching up around his stomach where his shirt had ridden up from him laying out on his side against Eddie’s bed.

“So, is that a yes?” Steve asks hopefully.

“On one condition,” You tell him, “we never speak of this again.”

“Deal.” They both respond in unison, far too eager.

It feels like a fever dream, Steve leaning over you to reach for Eddie, meeting him in the middle of your lap. He’d finally took the vest off after some persuasion from you, striped cotton shirt riding up in his stomach, the few buttons it did have were completely unbuttoned and failing to hide that patch of chest hair hidden underneath. Eddie smiled into the kiss, the dimple in his cheek deepening at the emotion he showed, the familiar sense of giddiness spreading throughout his body.

You’re not sure what to do, where to look, until Eddie’s hand is squeezing at your thigh, over the material of your jeans, a reassuring pressure that reminded him that you were still a part of this—he wanted you to watch, as taboo as it was for you.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Eddie assures you, mouth still very much involved with Steve, both of there eyes shut in pure bliss as their mouths met at an unhurried pace, all tongue and sloppy cadence. “You can stare all you want.”

And you do it, falling back on your palms as Steve’s hands fell in front of himself, just between the space in your legs, your chest rising and falling with every slow breath you took, afraid to move, afraid to interrupt the moment—until Steve separates from Eddie without hesitation and pulls you to him, the heat of his palm spreading out across your cheek as he kissed you gently, less forced that with Eddie.

This was new to him, and you; he didn’t want to come on too strong and you appreciated that, but it wasn’t nearly what you were hoping for. You needed the intensity, all of it—if this was following you all to the grave, it was going to be worth it.

Eddie makes a noise, noting the frustration on your face.

He tuts, running his fingers gingerly through the back of Steve’s hair, “More, Harrington.”

You laugh softly against his lips, “Really, it’s okay—I don’t need you to hold back.”

“You sure?” Steve asks quietly, noses bumping together gently in the process, leaving slow, lingering kisses against your lips, the kind that had you chasing after him for another. “I can get a little, uh—“

“Intense?” You finish for him, “Even better.”

Steve chuckles at that, slipping his hands around your backside until they’re resting just underneath the curve of your ass, adjusting you gently until you’re laid out against the mattress, Eddie following along too as he sprawls out on his side, fingers drifting along the skin of your exposed stomach, shirt pulled up slightly in the process.

Steve follows through on his words, hand pulling at your thigh until it bracketed against his hip, tongue delving into your mouth without hesitation, alighting every nerve-ending possible, an audible moan slipping from your throat and into Steve’s mouth. He bucks his hips involuntarily through his movements, pulling at your hands until they’re locked above your head in his grip, freeing one of his hands to tip your chin up, kissing you until you can’t breathe, pulling away briefly to allow yourself the luxury, catching glimpse of Eddie’s relaxed state, palm rubbing at the front of his sweatpants lazily. Steve notices it too, glancing down with a soft laugh.

“You did say ‘and stuff’,” Eddie defends weakly, his idle hand still resting comfortably against the expanse of your stomach, a constant reminder of his presence—not that you could forget it, “don’t worry, I’ll keep it in my pants.”

“Don’t,” You tell him honestly, and Steve pulls back slightly, startled by your words, “—what? I said no sex, that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy all the other stuff.”

“Are you sure?” Steve asks for reassurance.

You nod, “I mean, I would be doing the same thing to you, but uh—“ You looked up to your joined hands and back down at him, “there seems to be a problem.”

“O-oh,” Steve responds quickly, releases your hands gently. You smile devilishly, hands fisted into the front of Eddie’s shirt to pull him closer, “can I touch you?” Steve asks, neither pleading nor begging, rather just checking in.

“I’d be offended if you didn’t,” You say admittedly, shifting your legs until Steve can shove his knee in the apex, Eddie’s lips becoming curious as they latch into your neck, “—hey, no marks.”

Eddie makes a small noise of disapproval, the flurry of his hair near your face smelling of cheap weed and old spice, “Touch her, Steve.” Eddie instructs, his wandering hands following the line of your body until they reach the button on your jeans, deft fingers working away to pop it open.

Your hands feel empty, jittery with anticipation and the only thing you can think to do is busy them, rubbing your open palm over the front of Eddie’s sweats, a noise of approval leaving his throat as his lips latch onto your neck. He ruts slowly, savoring the friction as his hand finds its way toward Steve’s thigh and over the front of his own jeans—Eddie knows exactly what Steve’s packing, unbeknownst to you and the smug grin on his face is obvious as his hands search and squeeze gently, a rough, throaty chuckle leaving Steve’s mouth as he kisses you once more. It’s deep and needy, teeth dragging against your bottom lip as his hands move in time, slipping over the front of your underwear, his fingers rubbing over the soft patch of wetness.

Steve eyes connect with yours in a look of knowing, mumbling a soft, “Yeah?” at the obvious state of your arousal.

“I told you it was a problem,” You say through a weak laugh that quickly turns into a gasp as Steve moves the fabric to the side and runs a finger through your folds, gauging your response, “I really can’t help it.”

“And thank god for that,” Eddie remarks, shoving Steve out of the way gently to pull your mouth to his, kissing you hungrily, tongue darting out towards yours in a challenge, begging you to chase him, “right, Harrington?”

You roll your eyes in annoyance, looking up at an amused Steve, his fingers working slowly against your cunt, careful touches until your face scrunches up in pleasure, finding just the spot he was looking for, “He talks too much, doesn’t he?” Steve asks with a flippant tone, glancing over at his friend who can’t be bothered to care, mouth dragging against yours as you pull away to speak, a soft moan slipping from your lips.

“Absolutely.” You nod slowly, gripping the front of Eddie’s jeans a little tighter, his cock throbbing underneath your touch.

“I know something that’ll keep my mouth busy,” Eddie hints, earning a skeptical look from you.

But, lines were already being crossed and you couldn’t be bothered to stop him, offering another nod his way.

“Fuck—go ahead,” You breath and Eddie pulls away swiftly, you glance up at Steve, watching as he tried to process what was happening, his own cock straining behind the zipper of his jeans, “come here.”

Steve shifts hesitantly on his knees, your fingers slipping past his waistband, pulling him the rest of the way.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” Steve interrupts, your fingers trailing over the bulge in his jeans, “I don’t really—“

“Steve,” You drag out, “I want to.”

“Are you sure?” Steve asks.

It’s endearing, how often he tried to check in with you—and maybe it’s his own nervousness doing the talking, but it’s comforting knowing that you weren’t the only one feeling as if you were losing your mind.

“It’s either your mouth, your fingers, or your dick—” You list off, shifting slightly as Eddie pulled at your jeans, interjecting with a snide, “I know what I’d chose.” You smile up at Steve, “You heard him, Harrington.”

And to be fair, you had a sense of Steve’s size, but it’s much more intimidating when he yanks at his jeans, underwear following suit until his cock was standing stiff in front of your face—and suddenly you’re jealous that you’ve shit on Steve’s flirting tactics for so long, because the confidence was absolutely justified. Eddie’s fingers squeeze at your thighs, bring you back to reality and to the realization of your bare cunt positioned in front of Eddie’s face—all weird and awkward tension completely dismissed when he smiles up at you, offering a teasing, “Go easy on her, big boy.”

Steve is just as unfiltered as Eddie in his actions and words, but while Eddie is the type to offer you constant praise and sweet remarks, Steve is nothing but a mess in his own mind, murmuring out a soft, repetitive, “Fuck, fuck,” as you mouth at the tip of his cock, tongue running along the slit to taste at the rivulet of precome resting there, the weight of his cock against your tongue driving you wild, a tinge of excitement running through your body as Eddie’s tongue flattens out over your sensitive clit, moaning from the over-stimulation.

You can’t help but stare up at Steve’s parted lips, plump and wet from how often he licked them, eyes solely focused on you as his hesitant hands came up to cup your face, fingers gliding into the hair at the base of your neck, giving him an unobstructed view as your cheeks hollowed out, mouth sinking down on him in languid strokes, leaning heavily on your elbow as you free hand reached up to cover what your mouth couldn’t reach. It only seems to spur Steve further, pleading eyes boring into his own—you’re not sure what you’re asking for, but Steve nods, using the leverage he had to push his cool deeper until your eyes water from the force of it, pulling back with a strained gasp, wiping at your spit covered lips.

“Fuck, I’ve never—“ Steve sighs, “People always say it’s too much,” He’s not sure what he’s trying to say, but he’s staring down with intrigue, the gears turning in his head, “can you take more?”

Eddie’s working you up quickly, tongue flicking over your clit in hurried movements, using his hands to keep your thighs spread to the point of strain, muscles protesting the stretch. Your hand leaves Steve’s cock briefly, burying into the curls at the top of Eddie’s head, hips bucking up into his face selfishly.

Eddie shakes his head slightly, pulling away in punishment.

“Answer him, sweetheart.” He orders, “Don’t let me distract you.”

You give him an incredulous look, filling with a sense of rage at his stubborn, only interrupted when Steve’s fingers tapping at the underside of your chin, urging you to look up at him.

His eyebrows raise in question, earning a jerky nod in return, letting him guide his cock against your lips, his own hand gripped firmly at his shaft like he’s struggling to stave off his own orgasm, a small pout forming in his lips as he watched his cock slowly disappearing into your mouth until it’s just as deep again. You breath through your nose, a slow, deep intake as he pushes even further and holds you there, his head falls back, “Fuck—that’s so,” Steve lingers on the words, interrupted by Eddie’s never-ending comments.

“She likes the praise, Steve.” Eddie supplies, “No reason to hold back now.”

Steve nods absently, groaning out a broken, “Good girl,” and you swallow around him at that, pulling an even needy groan from his chest, “Oh, good fuckin’ girl.”

He pulls back suddenly, allowing you some relief before slipping back in, his hips moving eagerly into your mouth, hands still gripped firmly at the back of your neck as he fucks into your mouth just as you hoped for, taking as much as him as you could—even if it still wasn’t enough.

You can feel the deep pit of pleasure in your belly, thighs struggling against Eddie’s hold as you tip over the edge unexpectedly, moaning against Steve’s cock—and he’s not expecting it either, gasping out a desperate, “Where? Where can I—“

Steve’s never gone so far to come inside someone’s mouth without asking, but you don’t need to hear it, urging him along with your mouth, lips closing around him tightly as you work him over until he’s coming with a rough groan, pulling gently at your hair from the sheer force that his orgasm hits him, hips thrusting slightly as he rides it out, coming down your throat in long, thick spurts. It’s an afterthought to swallow as he pulls his dick out slowly, resting back on his calves and closing his eyes in exhaustion, letting go of your hair to rest his palms against the mattress.

Eddie looks up with a satisfied grin, having witnessed the exchange with a heated gaze, mouth still shining with your wetness and making him look insane as he laughed, “She’s a keeper, right?” Eddie compliments.

Steve nods dumbly, taking a deep breath as he speaks, “I’ve never came in anyone’s mouth before—that was…”

“Really?” You ask with a lilt to your voice, “Never?”

Steve shakes his head, staring at you openly until Eddie’s forcing his way back up and connecting his mouth with yours sloppily, chuckling through the motions as he pulls Steve down clumsily—he can taste Steve on your tongue, the headiness of it and you can taste yourself just as well, an intense exchange as Eddie sighs into your mouth, “Wanna taste her?” He asks to Steve, tilting his head to the side as Steve hovered over, face just a few inches away from both of you. He smile slightly, connecting his lips to Eddie’s with practiced ease, allowing the dirty exchange of Eddie’s tongue licking into his mouth, pulling on the metalhead's hair in response that has Eddie groaning playfully, teeth showing through his grin.

“I might have to give up that other threesome.” Steve jokes, loose hair bouncing against his forehead as he pulls away, both you and Eddie looking up at him curiously.

“You heard the lady—it’s a one and done deal.” Eddie explains with a hint of sadness, playing up the emotion.

But, Eddie knows far too well, eyeing you until you finally give in with an exasperated sigh.

“We tell no one,” You emphasize, “got it?”

Steve nods eagerly.

“Told you,” Eddie teases, tongue poking out at the corner of his mouth as he smiles, glaring up at Steve, “didn’t I?”

“Told him what?”

“Steve’s a little irresistible to the ladies and gents,” Eddie says knowingly, “even the stubbornest ones.”

You roll your eyes dramatically, “We can forget him next time.” You tell Steve, which he shrugs in response too, seemingly agreeing.

“Hey,” Eddie responds with offense, voice cracking slightly, “what—that’s not fair.”

“She’s the boss.” Steve defends, finding the time to pull his pants back up and shift to lay beside you on the bed.

“Oh wait,” The thought dawns on you suddenly, staring down at Eddie’s noticeably less prominent bulge, “—you didn’t—“

“I did,” Eddie laughs uncomfortably, shifting to reveal noticeable wet spot at the front of his sweats, “speaking of, I need to go change.”

“I’ll keep her company.” Steve grins devilishly, letting Eddie flick his vest back in his direction, the material hitting him directly in the chest as Eddie disappears down the hall.

Eddie’s only slightly offended when he returns to Steve pressing you down into the mattress again, teasing you with the slowest kisses possible. But you pull him in without question, letting him fall into a lazy rhythm of trading kisses—and maybe when the high wore of you’d regret all of it, but you can’t be bothered to care.

[the-nerdiest-insanity]

Okay so I'm not saying you have to write this but I wanted to share this little plot bunny in my brain with the first fic writer who showed up in the tags.

(this is not a request I just really really want to talk about this)

Okay so we all agree that the reason 'we literally have the rest of eternity to figure out what the rest of it means' is cause Charles never finished reading the myth, right?

So imagine if Edwin is killed of for realsies, and instead of just out right stating that the reader instead gets to find it out through the means of Charles reading the myth- you know, finishing it.

(the angst potential is twsiting me insides)

I started this at midnight for me, and this wormed it's way into my brain and won't leave. The ask gives away the twist, but I hope I've written this well enough that it doesn't matter

The Song Was Written Long Ago

Title from Road to Hell (reprise), Hadestown

Charles landed on the floor with the dull thumping feeling he has associated with living as a ghost on Earth. Niko and the Night Nurse are staring at him with shocked expressions.

"Charles--" Niko tried to start before he abruptly cut her off with a shake of his head.

"Don't Niko, just don't," he mumbled. Charles sniffled and slammed his fist into the ground. Slowly, he sat up onto his knees.

"Hey, I heard a loud noise," Crystal said as she entered. She took in the somber faces around her. "Did something happen? Where's--"

"Don't," Charles spat out, sharper this time. "Don't fucking say it."

"Charles?" Crystal asked as she took a hesitant step forward.

Charles stood up and plowed his way across the room, uncaring about the voices asking about him or the hands trying to stop him. He leapt into the first mirror he could reach. "Take me home," was his only thought.

Charles landed harshly into thei-- the office. His legs carried him automatically to the bookshelf. It had been so meticulously organized before this whole damned trip. Now, everything was a cluttered mess after searching for the book to save Niko.

A painful voice echoed in his head, "It wouldn't be so messy if you'd just follow my system." Charles bit his lip, attempting to rein in his emotions.

This is like one of those Orpheus and Eurydice moments, yeah?

Charles knew there were many different versions of the story he was searching for, but focused on finding the one he had started all those years ago.

Finally, he pulled out Metamorphoses. He flipped to Book X, finding the line he last read. He had stopped when the pair began to leave the Underworld. He had figured either they made it out and lived a happy life or something terrible happened. And, Charles was fine never knowing what the answer was. Until now.

He read about Orpheus's confidence in getting the pair out. He read out Orpheus's doubt. He read about Orpheus turning around too soon.

Charles slammed the book shut. He didn't need to read about how Orpheus died because he was already dead.

Charles slid slowly down to the ground, crying into the book. He could hear a voice in his head scolding him for not taking care of property. It made Charles hiccup as he sobbed. "I'm so sorry, Edwin. I shouldn't have looked back. I should've lead up out before I talked to you. I'm so sorry. We were supposed to have the rest of eternity. Edwin, please."

The rest of eternity was a very short time, indeed.

Was I listening to the Hadestown soundtrack while listening to this? How could you tell? For real, I hope you all liked this and I made the annon proud.

[eris-snow]

Calendar

Tags: bakugou x gn!reader, angst, anniversary, break up

Today's my parents' anniversary, and I completely forgot about it.

You glance up with tired eyes at the clock in your agency. 11pm, it read.

Paperwork is one of the things you hate most about hero work, but it was essential if you wanted to stay afloat with the happenings of the world. Even though it was tedious and a bore.

Sighing, you glance at your phone with exasperation, glaring at the never-ending notifications that clutter your phone only to haphazardly tap one in hopes to clear the list.

"How many people need me these days-?" You grumble, before cutting yourself short. The notification you'd clicked on sent you straight to your calendar, where two, simple words ink your screen in bolded letters.

Our Anniversary.

You stare at the words, blinking in disbelief. How did you forget this out of all things?

Hastily, you swipe to your settings, fingers nimble and quick as you start to delete those words...

Only to pause for a second, fingers hovering over the display. A tear splatters on the device's screen.

It's been a year.

A year since you broke up with him.

It takes you back, and you can remember it as clear as day.

You were used to him standing you up on normal days, and you tried to convince yourself him standing you up that day was okay too.

It didn’t matter how long you had to wait. He’ll come. Surely, right?

After all, today was a day to celebrate the both of you, the day you got together, the day held hands and kissed under the stars the day you both graduated from U.A. You cleared out your entire schedule because this day was important, and you knew Katsuki would do the same in a heartbeat.

He was always like that for significant dates. He’d circle it on that deskside calendar that sat on his work table, marking all the dates he cared about as if he were checking boxes on a grocery list.

You hastily glanced away when you feel the burning gazes of another couple, trying to stay optimistic. He'll come. He always does.

It was only when hours later, after uncountable missed calls and unread messages, that makes your heart go stone cold. The manager told you that they were wrapping up for the night, and you were politely ushered out of the restaurant with an empty stomach and a broken heart.

You were crushed.

Your phone rang, long and loud, making you bite back a shaky breath and your unshed tears as you held it up to your ear. "Hello?" You croaked, not even bothering to hide the hurt in your voice.

"Fuck, shit...Sunshine-"

Katsuki.

"Stop," You rasped, sharpening your words. "I'm going home."

"Let me pick you up, I'm almost there." He plead, desperation seeping out of his voice. It was a mistake, you could tell. Everything in his voice screams a frantic desire to piece back what little time you have left of today, do something last-minute, make-shift...

But you just don't want to do it anymore.

You watch with dull, blank eyes as he pulls up in front of you in that posh, expensive car he'd gotten months ago, and you're so tired you just get in the car and slam the door with more force than necessary.

Crimson red eyes flickered to you. "Sunshine, I-"

"Don't call me that." You shut Bakugou up with your harsh, icy words, staring distantly out the window. "Take me home."

Bakugou bit his tongue and swallowed back his anger. He knows better than to argue with you.

-

You broke up with him in the car at the bottom of your modest, rented-out apartment. The words still sometimes swarm your mind, bits and scrapes surfacing every once in a while.

"Y/n, we can still salvage this-"

"I waited for you, Katsuki." Your voice breaks a little when you say that. "I waited as long as I could. The management had to kick me out."

Bakugou winced. God, you sounded so broken. "Sunshine, I'm sorry okay? Dammit, there was a meeting to catch this villain and-"

"What about me?" Your voice cracked, the emotion of the sorrow eating at you inside out finally pooling out of your strong front. "What about us, Katsuki? Does your job matter that much more than this relationship? Is that what you were thinking whenever you stood me up?"

Part of you was telling you to stop, that if you kept going, everything would derail off the tracks to uncharted territory. But the words just kept coming. You were so hurt at the time, that all those times you felt you could sweep problems that bothered you under the carpet gushing back in the form of word vomit.

"Of course I care about our relationship!" Bakugou fired back, eyes cast with a flicker of fury. Your throat goes dry. "That's not what I asked, Katsuki."

The fire in his eyes diminished. He opened his mouth to say something again, something to salvage this fight...but nothing came out. "Y/n, I love you," He breathed, grabbing your shoulders as he gazes unwaveringly into your eyes.

There's no doubt about it. He does, but...he wants to be a hero even more.

That realisation almost consumed you a whole, right there and then, and it was enough to finally break in those words.

"Let's break up."

Bakugou's heart plunged thirty feet under.

"No-" His mouth fell open in incredulity, voice choppy and thick. "Y/n, I swear, you're acting on instinct now, please," He leaned over his seat pressing a firm, passionate kiss on your lips. He's trying to convey everything via his actions, his love and his genuine care for you through his beautiful lips on yours.

Why did this have to happen for him to realise this?

When he pulled away, Bakugou's gorgeous eyes bore into yours with hope for another chance, hope for a clean slate...

You almost cave.

Instead, you snatched your purse and opened the car door, stilling when you feel his arm jerking you back.

You pulled it away.

"Goodbye, Katsuki." You whispered, eyes pearling with tears. "Y/n, wait please-"

You slammed the door shut, and fled upstairs.

--

You wipe the tear that falls on your screen, covering your mouth as you force yourself out of your relapse. At the speed of light, you delete the event from your calendar.

In your heart, you know that Bakugou is destined for far greater things. He can't be held back by you, or your relationship. He must be happier now, probably forgot all about you.

"Like hell I'd forget about you," Bakugou groans, slumping on his table just like you, miles away from where you've sat. He glares daggers at the calendar on his table, where today's date is circled in bright, eye-catching red. He slumps further down in his seat.

"I wish you never left."

Accidentally pressed this and now I can't get rid of it. I'm open to feedback! :) Have a good day ahead everyone

[burninlovebutler]

19 - Not Even For A Second // Forever Winter // a.b x oc

warnings: SAD SAD SAD, grief/loss, hallucinations/delusions, drug abuse/addiction, mental illness, severe medical situations/trauma, vomit, alcohol, 4k words, 18+ always mdni

⚠️ if you are/have struggled with substance abuse or hallucinations this chp may be triggering⚠️

19/? - Austin's latest break dawns the memory of why Elsie keeps a distance between her heart & his. She made a promise a long time ago that she has to keep.

see masterlist/summary for background info + chapter log

I APOLOGIZE FOR WHAT I’M ABOUT TO DO TO YOU I AM SO SO SORRY PLS DO NOT HATE ME

𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚙 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚡 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚍

𝙿𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜

(not my gif, will tag creator when found)

-ELSIE-

            – 4 years ago –

It had been about 2 months since the death of Austin’s father and to say he was taking it badly was an understatement. He was on the verge of flunking out of school, the only reason he was even coasting was because I took over all his course work.

He spent most of the time in his room – it was filthy. Cluttered with trash, clothes, rotting food. It was easy to know that the food would decay because he wouldn’t eat. He wouldn’t eat at all. In the short time, he had dropped at least 20 pounds. He was never that bulky, fairly lanky to begin with, but now his ribs were popping out and his arms shrunk by the day.

He’d sleep all day, then be up most of the night. Or sometimes he’d sleep the entire 24 hours. The sockets around his eyes remained purple, his cheeks sullen. I barely recognized him.

Most of the time he wouldn’t shower for weeks on end and then there were some weeks where he wouldn’t even speak a word. At one point I even thought I was forgetting the sound of his voice and so started rewatching old videos of us just to hear it. Or his laugh or see his smile. God, I missed them, I missed them so fucking much. It was selfish how much I missed them.

It had been so long since I’d seen even a glimpse of the Austin I knew. He had become a ghost. Haunting our apartment with small traces of who he used to be all over, but he was no where to be found.

-

I was in his tiny room just trying to clean up a bit, do some laundry for him. I thought maybe a clean space might lift his spirits, or enough just to eat something, anything.

He was cocooned in a thick navy duvet, just tufts of overgrown blonde hair peaking from a small opening. I figured he was asleep since he didn't react when I came in. But when I went to grab an stale chip bag from between him and the wall, his hand weakly grabbed my wrist. I just about jumped off the ground from shock.

“Oh, I’m sorry Aus, I didn’t mean to wake you I was just trying to clean-“ He shushed me, then silently pointed behind himself. “Yeah I know, I just threw that stuff away-“ I whispered. He gestured again. “Aust I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

In a slight struggle to unravel himself from the bedding without adjusting, his frail arm held open the cover. I stayed silent eyeing the scene in front of me and what it meant, if I was understanding correctly. With the raspiest, weakest, voice he croaked out, “Please.”

Without another word I slipped into the bed behind him. We had never done anything like this before and it felt so odd. Such an intimate act, so taboo, as if it was something we shouldn’t be doing. But some part of me didn’t feel that way and my arm curled around him like it was instinct, like I knew exactly where my arm would fit. He nuzzled back into me.

His relationship with his dad was complicated. Austin hated him. He was abusive to him as a child and then was manipulative with him as an adult. He even forced him into being a business law major. Even though it wasn’t the career he wanted, he strived to make his dad proud by keeping a consistent 4.0. I think he let himself be a pawn in a feeble attempt to win over his approval, his love. One time Aust even told me that not once did his dad say he was proud of him and couldn’t even remember him ever saying I love you.

How fucked up is that? How can a parent do that to their own child?

And yet he was holed up in his room, despondent. Losing a parent is difficult enough already, but it was the possibility of ever winning him over that was the loss. It was stolen, the chance to make him proud like he strived so hard to, the sliver of hope of one day hearing those words. I think that’s what he was really mourning. He never got to hear an ‘I’m proud of you’ or even fucking ‘I love you’.

His father died without Austin ever hearing the man say I love you.

My dad left when I was younger and my relationship with my mom was distant and complex. But at least she was happy when I called and fucking said I love you.

He curled further into himself before I heard hidden sobs. There was a familiar violent twist in my chest, it might as well have set up home in my heart from how often I felt it lately. I’d never seen anyone cry as much as he did in these past 2 months. He should’ve been constantly dehydrated from the sheer amount of tears leaving his body. 

I drew him closer, tightening my grip on him. This was the first time he let me hold him while he sobbed, normally isolating from me. His weak arms gripped around mine, his fingers ice cold when they dug into my skin. The wails shook his entire body. “I know.” I comforted quietly, pressing my forehead flush against his shoulder.

He brought my hand up and intertwined his fingers through the spaces between mine, triggering an automatic tense in my knuckles. This was something else we’d never done before. And yet I obliged, wrapping my digits around his fist.

Then, he snaked our coiled arms up to his face, pressing it against the back of my hand. Within seconds it was covered in salty tears. It was such a helpless feeling, all I could do was tighten my grip on his hand and pull him closer. We stayed like that for a while and it seemed as though he was starting to fall asleep.

He must’ve felt me turn to glance at the wall clock, I was going to be late for class if I didn’t leave soon. He gripped my hand and barely through returning sobs, “Please don’t go.” There was a settling conflict in me, I couldn’t skip lecture again. It was fucked up that I was even thinking about class right now, but I was already on the verge of failing between juggling both our class loads. I would flunk us both. “I know- I’m sorry,” His weeps descended further, more erratic, “But please don’t leave.”

I couldn’t go, how could I leave him like this.

“I won’t Aus, I’m here okay?” I reassured, squeezing his hand back, “I’m here.”

A sniffle, “Even if I fall asleep, don’t go. Okay?”

“I won’t, I won’t leave you. Not even for a second.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

It made me furious that his wicked, vile father turned my best friend into a husk of what he was. I hated him enough for the both of us.

I didn’t mind taking care of him, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t getting exhausting. I would never tell him that though, never let him see it. I would never quit on him.

-

Then one day, something flipped. He would come out, fresh haircut, clean shaven, and put together. His room was organized and spotless. Full of energy and life, he was an even better version of his old self. Grades were spiking back up and his social life bolstering. Or sometimes it was hobbies and interests, he would learn an instrument overnight. He taught himself guitar that way and by the end of the month he was actually pretty decent.

At times it was even excessive – girls and parties.

-

The rumbling of giggles and cheers ripped me from a rather comfortable sleep. Rubbing my eyes, I checked my phone to see it was 2 am.

What the fuck?

I wrapped my thick, tufted duvet around myself and cracked my door open, immediately repulsed at the sight in our kitchen. My old roommate Josey sitting on the counter with her brunette friend Brooke hanging off Austin’s shoulder. The laughter slowed as soon when they spotted me.

“Hey Els,” Austin’s voice deep and dripped in alcohol, “Did we wake you?”

“Hi Elsie!” Josey waved at me. I ignored her, keeping my eyes on a sloppy Austin.

“Um yeah, its 2 am and you guys are being loud as fuck.” My voice still raspy from sleep kept it from sounding too angry.

Brooke scowled at me, hooking her arm with Austin’s.

“Sorry Els! We’ll try to be quiet!” Josey bubbled. Her blonde ditzy self was just as insufferable as I remembered.

It was funny that she was sitting on my kitchen counter giggling at whatever Austin said, seeing as she barely acknowledged him when he and I first became friends - before he turned into this, whatever this was.

“Well, don’t you think it’s time you guys went home?” My gaze now narrowing in on Brooke’s scowl.

“Oh, we’re sleeping over.” She challenged in snide tone.

My glare turned up to Austin, who somehow looked both cocky and afraid of me, “Both of them?” I snapped staring directly at him, my eyes felt like lasers were shooting out of them.

“Mmmmhm!” Josey answered taking a swig of her White Claw. “Brooke suggested we have a thr–“

“They’re too drunk to get home alone.” Austin answered for her. “And I’m too drunk to get them there.”

Pure disgust swirled a pit in my gut. A pit I didn’t know I should be feeling. “I see.”

The thought of the three of them–

God, what a fucking vile thought.

Just weeks ago, he was crying in my arms and begging me to stay. Me, not them.

“Sorry, we’ll move to his room.” Brooke’s lips curled into a smirk, “Don’t worry Els, we’ll take good care of him.”

-

And then, the switch would flip back down. Everything he was juggling came pummeling down after about 2 weeks, sometimes a month. The excessive sleep, sloppiness, drained life all returned. Josey and Brooke conveniently disappeared. And I’d be left picking up the pieces again.

It was a constant cycle. Up then down, up then down. Like a yo-yo.

Then there was the turning point, the incident.

-

He was in an upswing, having just learned some niche form of woodworking. Literal planks of wood rested against our living room wall, power tools scattered all over his room. Traces of Josey draped around the house from all their make-up sleepovers.

The energy in the house had been tense, uncomfortable. Chaotic. It always ended up that way in those peaks. The yo-yo began to put a strain on us.

I was sitting at the kitchen bar reading some romance book that was trendy at the time when he walked through the front door of our apartment. A bag of leftovers in tow and his whistling filled the room, joy and excitement clear in his demeanor. “Hi Els!" He chirped, setting the leftovers on the counter.

Without a second thought or even looking up from my book I asked, “What’re you so chipper about?”

Nothing could’ve ever prepared me for what was about to come out of his mouth.

“I had lunch with my dad! I think it went really well.” His words so casual.

I froze, furrowing my brows at my book.

What?

Closing the paperback slowly, “That’s not very funny Austin.”

He scoffed, “Listen I know he sucks but it went okay.”

“Are you trying to play some sort of fucked up joke on me?”

His mood shifted, now offended.

“I know he’s been shitty before but is it really that hard to believe that he could actually want to see me?”

Squinting at him trying to pick up on any inkling of a pun, but why the fuck would he joke about this.

I glanced down to the plastic bag encasing the styrofoam container, it was from one of our favorite restaurants, Lenny’s Diner. “You really went to Lenny’s?”

“Yes Elsie, what, is that a crime?” Aggravation clearly building in him.

“You sat down at a booth and talked to your dad?” I probed, trying to get any indication of... well anything to possibly explain this.

“Fuck El, yes what the fuck is your problem?” His newly muscular arms crossing his chest.

“How long were you there?” My questions coming out faster than I could think.

“Fuck I don’t know? I think I got there around ten?” His voice edged with defense.

I glanced out the front windows, it was dark already. Then looking at a clock on the wall that verified my fear – it was 7 pm.

Nine hours.

“And you were there this whole time? Talking to him?”

“Yes?”

I slid off the tall bar stool and paced cautiously towards him.

“Please tell me you’re joking Aus.”

“Elsie what the fuck is your problem? You’re acting like having lunch is a crime.” His tone angry and rising. I didn’t think I’d ever heard him mad before, nonetheless at me.

Stepping forward, I hesitantly grasped his hands, “Austin–“

“Fucking spit it out Elsie.”

I didn’t want to say it. I didn’t want to rip him down from whatever cloud he was in.

“Aus – Austin your dad is dead.”

He blinked at me blankly before his gaze turned dark, ripping his hands from me. “Now you’re the one fucking with me. That’s not fucking funny.”

“Why would I joke about that? Are you feeling okay?” Going to press the back of my hand to his forehead only to have him smack my arm away from him. Never had he ever touched me like that, the aggression sent a chill through my body. Not once did I ever think he would frighten me like this. I took a nervous step back.

“I feel fucking fine, you’re the one saying fucking insane shit.”

I had no fucking clue what was happening. If he was serious, I didn’t know how he’d react to the reality. How was this happening? How do you just forget your dad is dead? How do you see your dead dad? Talk to him? For nine fucking hours?

“I-“ Then I got an idea, whether or not it was a good one, it was the only option I could think of. I quickly made my way to his room, frantically filtering through his desk drawers before finding what I was looking for.

“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” He demanded from the kitchen.

Returning with a pamphlet, the one from the funeral.

He stilled, the life from his face dissipated as he took the pamphlet. His skin turning as pale as the white paper. Realization flooded in his eyes, grief filling them all over again. Soon replaced by confusion and panic.

Staggering backwards, chest heaving, his breath escaping him. I just barely caught him before he fell, gently guiding him to the floor. Tears welled in his eyes. "I saw him Elsie, I swear to god I did.” A sob coming from his lips, “I talked to him.”

There was a churn in my stomach, like it had been put through a meat grinder. I wasn’t the one that hallucinated my dad, but I was just as petrified. I knew he had been doing bad, but this was something else. This was more than just mourning. 

I curled my arms around him, drawing him close, “We’re gonna get through this Aus, okay? I promise.” I rested my forehead atop his fluffed curls as he wailed into my chest. I gripped the back of his shirt in my fist as if it would stave off my own cries.

“I saw him, I saw him.” He repeated again and again.

“I know.” I struggled behind weakly restrained tears, “I won’t leave you Aust, I promise. Not for a second. I’ll be right there with you the whole time.”

-

A 72 hour hold later, we got some answers.

I visited him every day.

Each day he was in there was sadder than the last.

The first day he was so terrified, trembling, barely speaking to me. He squeezed my hand the entire 30 minutes of visitation time.

Second day, he sat across from me sketching my face with a purple crayon. He didn’t look at me once, seemingly going off of only his memory.

“They don’t let us use pens.” Was the only thing he said that day.

The third day he was numb, laying his head atop crossed arms on the tabletop. Not a single word came from his lips, the bags under his eyes the deepest purple I'd ever seen one someone's face. My guess was that he probably didn't sleep a single night the entire hold.

It was excruciating to see him in there, to see him like that. Every time I looked him it gutted me, made me worried and furious and helpless all over again. My cheerful, gentle, soft Austin was now just a shell. When I looked into his once bright sapphire eyes, I couldn’t find him anymore.

We found out many things from this little getaway. Mainly that some severe disorders ran his family and the major event of his dad must’ve triggered them. The doctors said it probably would’ve happened eventually. They knew the conditions that trended in his family, but they didn’t know just yet which ones he had inherited. There were so many that were thrown around, but the main two – Bipolar and Schizophrenia.

The yo-yo was just symptoms of vicious bipolar cycling - mania then depression, mania then depression, again and again. Then things I didn't think anything of - his forgetfulness, misplacing things and the things he didn't tell me, seeing or hearing things that weren't there, all symptoms of the latter. The tentative diagnosis explained it, all of it.

I brought him home and we worked on getting him steady again.

He started his meds.

He was better for a while.

But before I could fully catch my breath from the event, something else entirely reared an ugly head.

-

Josey – who he was unfortunately still seeing, called me in absolute hysterics. “It’s Austin – you have to get here now. I don’t know what’s going on.” I could barely understand what she was saying through her panicked sobs, “I don’t know what the fuck to do Elsie, I’m freaking out. I’m so fucking scared.”

When I found him, he was curled up on her bathroom floor, covered in his own vomit, barely breathing. 

"Fuck Austin." Immediately kneeled down next to him, picking up his lulled face into my hands. He looked dead, his skin such a pale yellow, his eyes glossed and rolled into his skull, lips chapped and purple. "What the fuck happened!" Anger and panic seared through every nerve in my body. 

"I-I don't know." Shuttered a visibly scared Josey, "He just- He just kept taking shots and- kept taking bars."

"Bars?" Furrowing my brows at her, "What the fuck is that?"

"You know," Her shoulders pulled up into a shrug from the arms wrapped around her body, "Like Xanax bars?"

"Xanax! How many did you let him fucking take Josey?" I'd never heard my voice so furious before. Josey backed into a corner shaking her head as to tell me she didn't have an answer.

I returned my focus to him, “Fuck Austin, please.” I whispered like it was just us two in the room, clutching his hand so hard I probably could’ve snapped his bones. I pressed my ear to his chest and my fingers to his neck to check his pulse. It was slowing down and it was slowing down fast. I started rotating between erratically shaking his limp body, patting his cheeks, peeling open his rolled back eyes and checking his weakening heart rate. It felt like years passing waiting to hear the ambulance sirens. 

Squeezing his hand pulling it into my stomach as I doubled over, “Please don’t fucking go." Laying my forehead on his chest, sobbing against him, "You can’t leave me like this.”

Begging over and over, 

"Austin please" "Don't leave me." "Please just hold on." "Just a little longer." "Please don't fucking leave." "I need you here." "Aus please." "You can't leave like this."

Everyone at the party just stood there watching, like it was some sort of fucked up performance. Doing nothing, nobody was doing anything. Not even Josey was nowhere near him, still petrified in the corner. No one had even called 911 until I got there because they were too worried that they'd get in trouble. People with even less of a fuck filtered out leaving without a single care. Including Brooke.

Just seconds before paramedics arrived, his body began violently convulsing. Followed by most disgusting, struggled gurgles from purple lips as he choked on his own foamed vomit.

It was easily the most horrifying, heart wrenching thing I had ever witnessed. Something I would never be able to unsee, a core scene that was now permanently etched into my mind like a tattoo. Every single memory of us played in my head, terrified that those would be the last ones I'd have, that we’d never be able to make any more.

I was forcefully hauled away from him as the paramedics started doing any and everything to halt his overdose. As soon as I was allowed back to him, my hand never left his. Everything unfolded in slow motion, I couldn’t hear a single word the EMTs spoke. All I could hear were wheels dragging across long carpeted hallways, the dings of the elevator. The metal clicks of the stretcher being shoved into the emergency vehicle. Every slow beep of the heart monitor rang like a screech through the night, jarring like nails on a chalkboard.

I never left him - through every room, down the elevator, the entire ambulance ride until he was finally taken into the crisis unit at the hospital.

Alone. I paced the halls of the freezing hospital alone. No one else there for him. Not Josey, not Brooke. Not even his own mother who never answered my thousand calls and texts.

Just me, only me.

This landed him in another 72 hour hold, this time in a rehab facility.

I felt so senseless, so guilty – I hadn’t even noticed a change in his behavior. How could I have not noticed? But how could I have suspected he was abusing his medications, the plethora of drugs his doctor had prescribed him.

A pill for the depression, a pill for focus, a pill for anxiety, several mood stabilizers, sleep aids, anti-psychotics for the hallucinations. There were too many to count.

Austin had never even exhibited any signs of having an addictive personality. Not even with alcohol. How was I supposed to know? How could I have fucking known. 

I should've paid more attention. But I was so tied up with the pit Josey and Brooke planted in my stomach that it obstructed me from looking too close. I was distracted by my own selfish feelings that I missed it. I somehow didn't catch my other half spinning out into addiction.

Between the mourning, the psychotic break, and the pills – it all changed him. He was never the same after it. Lapses in meds and relapses cycled. Over time they slowed down and pieces of him started to come back, but he wasn’t whole. Like a chunk of him had been stolen and he couldn’t find it.

When things were bad, he terrified me. Unmedicated he only got worse. Cycling through mania and depression. Impulsive, then despondent. Misplacing objects, forgetting things – repeating something over and over. The most chilling ones were when he’d see or hear things that weren’t there. Even scarier than that was when he'd start to get used to them, talking to them.

Overly medicated wasn’t a picnic either. It was extremes or nothing, depending on what he was taking. Though it was only ever pills, uppers or downers, sometimes both.

Whether it was a non-medicated Austin or an overly medicated Austin, they were both versions of him I didn’t recognize. Never did I ever think that there would be times that I would be scared of my Aus. The one that wouldn't hurt a fly, the one that would hand homeless people his last dollar bill, the one that would volunteer at shelters during the holidays, the one that got teary-eyed at baby animal videos. 

What frightened me the most was the thought of losing him, one way or another. That one day it would be too much, and I wouldn’t be able to save him.

It was soon after his overdose that I realized couldn’t be any closer to him than this, that we could never be more than this. As a friend I could be constant, no complications. I could be there through the relationships, the fuck buddies, the parties, the heartbreaks, the cycling, the relapses. If I went to the parties and got drunk with him and made friends with his annoying girlfriends, I could always be there.

It didn’t matter what I wanted or what I thought I felt. I needed to be just far enough away from him to not be clouded by anything else. Not again, I could never let it happen again. I couldn’t risk fucking us up, ruining us. I couldn't risk having to leave. I couldn't risk losing him.

I couldn't be the liability.

I made him a promise, I’d never leave him. Not even for a second. 

Next Chapter: 20 - I Know You're Lying

thank you for all the love, comments, likes, reblogs, etc on forever winter, it means the world to me ♡

i hope you liked this chapter 🫣

-M🥀 xx

[bobfloydsbabe]

delicate || jake "hangman" seresin x oc

Rating: T+ Warning(s): Language (?), kissing, tooth-rotting fluff Prompt: Hugging them from behind, laying their head on the other's shoulder Requested: Yes, by @theprincesbane / @natrace Word count: 1.1k Summary: Jas and Jake share a tender morning moment

A/N: Thank you so much to Lyra, who requested this from a list of prompts. I hope you like it! Tomorrow I will go back and focus on my beta reading duties, which I completely ignored in favor of finishing and posting this. I'm so sorry, Anna. This is a standalone one-shot set in the Turning Tables universe. Enjoy!

Likes are nice, but comments (and reblogs with tags) are golden.

It was early morning, and the beginning rays of sunlight shone through the whimsy curtains.

Jake had tried to get Jas to stay in bed for just a little longer, not wanting her to leave just yet. She'd agreed but had started fidgeting almost immediately, so he let her get out of bed, only protesting a little. He'd watched her as she put on a t-shirt and ran her hands through her hair, trying to tame it.

It was an entirely new and foreign feeling that had crept up on him slowly, wanting her to stay in his arms just a little longer. Most days, he pushed it down and ignored it, hoping it would somehow go away. It hadn't. Not yet.

He sat on the edge of her bed, listening to the sound of Jas roaming around the kitchen as he pulled on his uniform. Both their tan uniforms were scattered all over the floor from the urgency of the previous night, trying to get it off and get closer to each other's skin. The memory of her moans made a shiver run down his spine. He doubted he would ever get tired of that sound.

Jas had let him stay. Waking up with his arms around her, the smell of her hair in his nostrils felt so natural.

Jake stood, adjusting his belt before deciding to make his side of the bed. Not with as much precision as he was taught in basic, but enough that it looked presentable. After a second, he decided to just make the entire bed, the sight of the crumbled-up sheets on Jas' side making the nerve in his jaw tick.

Task completed, he walked through the house as the floors creaked under his footsteps. It looked different in the morning light, with many of the little things that made it a home appearing. Photographs, plants, books, trinkets. Clutter. It was small and modest, but it felt like Jas. She had such a demanding presence that it made sense that her home was unassuming. He liked that she lived off-base because it gave him a look inside the woman he'd spent so many intimate moments with, and he found the list of things he liked about her growing as time went by.

He rounded the corner to the kitchen, where he found Jas preparing coffee. She only wore an oversized t-shirt and underwear, and her hair was messy and unruly. Jake's eyes traveled the expanse of her body, appreciating every curve and dimple. He smiled when she stood on her toes to reach the top shelf of a wall-mounted cabinet for mugs, and the t-shirt rode up, exposing her–

"Quit staring at my ass, Seresin."

Caught red-handed but with no regrets, Jake crossed the room, stopping behind her and engulfing her in a hug. He leaned his head on her shoulder and kissed her exposed neck. "You have a great ass."

She snorted, but he was almost sure he saw a flush start to form at the base of her neck.

He was surprised by her seemingly good mood. He'd been unfortunate enough to run into her early one morning on base, and when he opened his mouth to greet her, she warned him not to say a word. She'd looked ready to kill anyone in sight, and when he mentioned it in the rec room, Bob had chuckled and told him Jas wasn't a morning person. So, the fact that she didn't seem ready to strangle him right this minute was a little surprising.

"How do you take your coffee?"

"I'd rather take you," he mumbled against her neck as his grip tightened around her waist.

She turned in his arms, the look on her face unreadable. "Don't make me regret letting you sleep over."

He smirked at her and weighed the pros and cons of kissing her. It was a risk. It could send her running, make her push him away, and never speak to him again. It could make the fragile connection they shared break, and he didn't like how much the possibility of that made his stomach churn.

Still, he leaned forward and captured her lips in a kiss. She was hesitant at first, barely kissing him back, but it didn't take long before she melted into him. Her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer. The hand he'd rested on her waist traveled down her back until it stopped, just barely touching where he really wanted to.

Jas broke away, shoving his chest gently. She leveled him with a warning stare, and he placed his hand back on her waist.

She smiled and pecked his lips once. "Do you want coffee or not?"

She turned back to the mugs, and Jake tried, he swore he did, not to hug her again, but he couldn't help it. He snuck his arms back around her waist. "Please," he muttered and placed a kiss on her temple.

Jas reached for the pot and poured coffee into both mugs. She put it back and handed him a mug with the Golden Gate Bridge, forcing him to let her go. He didn't like the coldness that followed as her body left his. 

"Milk's in the fridge if you want some, and the sugar's probably in one of the cabinets, too."

He nodded but took a sip of his mug, preferring it black. He hummed at the discovery that the good doctor made a half-decent cup of coffee.

She reached for her own mug and carried it out of the kitchen. Jake followed her to the doorway, only to watch her disappear down the hall to her bedroom. "What are you doing, Doc?"

She turned to look at him, a mischievous grin on her face. "Getting dressed," she told him as she walked the last few steps backward. "And you better be gone by the time I'm done."

He let out a light chuckle when she winked at him as she closed the door to her bedroom.

He finished his coffee and checked his pockets for his wallet and phone before leaving her house. Jake had no idea what Jas would do if he was still there when she walked out of her room, so he left.

An odd ache settled in his chest as he got into his car. He looked up at the small weather-worn house Jas called home, hesitant to leave. She had asked him to, though, so he started his car and drove away with the ghost of her kiss still on his lips.

❋❋❋

top gun taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @joaquinwhorres, @itsjustgracy, @fantasias-creativebubble, @lostinwonderland314, @luckyladycreator2, @blue-aconite, @dempy, @alana4610, @littlebadariell, @cherrycola27, @whisperofsong, @another-tblr-fangirl

[vsnotresponding]

find the word tag

more tag games! thank you @on-noon for tagging me!

i'll tag @aquil-writes @moondust-bard and @k--havok

your words are: beast, heavy, carry, thorns and dark

mine were: clarity, client, close, clean, & clutter

more than one excerpt to get to 5:

clarity

“Addiction?” I realize that, in spite of the circumstances, I’ve taken it all pretty well. It’s ridiculous. Absurd. The clarity of the morning shows it to me, of how stupid all of this is. Unconsciously, I must’ve repressed it, tried to rationalize it. Well, that’s fucking over. I raise my voice. “What were you expecting? You gave it to me when I was dying! And then you kept going!” “We don’t say that we didn’t,” she rises her arms as if to calm me down. Obviously, it doesn’t work. I snort. “Come on, Ira. We have to do this.” And she points to the table and the glass thingies again. I get the implicit “it’s for your people”. “You have to do this for them, not only you”. I make myself take a deep breath, to relax my posture, calm my face. I see them relaxing in turn, resting their shoulders, the mirzaan looks up. They think I’ve been convinced. When I talk, I carefully think my answer, and its consequences. “I want to go back to my cell.”

Púlsar - Chapter 7 - Ira - Ira's POV

They yank me again to a standing position, dragging me across the corridor. A shadow awaits in front of the door, hidden in darkness. It reminds me of the darkness in my cell. My heart accelerates, my breathing superficial. I start thinking with clarity. Obviously, these aren't Garvan and the rest. Obviously, I’m in danger. We come closer, the lamp slightly lighting the face of the shadow. I meet clear brown eyes and stumble backwards. I talk, my fear slipping into my voice. “You aren’t who I was expecting.” “Oh dear, I know.”

Púlsar - Chapter 9 - The Calm Before the Storm - Ira's POV

client: not found

close

The imitation starts to light up. I open my eyes, still focused, sweat pearling my brows. I talk in between my teeth with some difficulty. “What do you want me to do?” “Blow it up.” Garvan’s harshness almost makes me lose the connection. I expected Áine to ask me for the imitation’s register, like I did with the mirzaan’s creation. I feel tempted to look at him, but I keep my eyes on the imitation, their eyes on my face. No one contradicts him, so I do so. I move inside the imitation, in between the opaque crystals that form it, the threads where the earth and the blood joined in perfect patters so unlike a creation’s. If it were a creation, I couldn’t destroy it, it’s virtually impossible to do so by their structure. But it’s an imitation, it’s easy to find the center, the origin point, to heat it up until it gives out beyond what it needs to shine, to heat. I close my hand, and the imitation dissolves in blood and dirt.

Púlsar - Chapter 8 - Progress - Ira's POV

“So you can do what the imitators do on your own?” Her accent is strange, slipping around the vocals, but I can understand her. I admire her effort, but this is not the time. “Yeah,” I say between clenched teeth, trying not to break my focus. Garvan softly laughs besides me, and I tense my arm to avoid moving and hitting him on the leg. It’s good that someone derives some amusement from my exasperation. The young woman pauses before asking again: “Is that what you are doing now?” “No.” Some minutes of silence, the aldamu fidgeting at my side. With my eyes closed, I can feel his chest shaking trying to stop a laugh. She talks again. “What are we waiting for?” That does it for Garvan, who breaks and snorts, laughing quietly, uselessly trying to stop himself. I try to calm myself, taking a deep breath, containing my desire to slap him so he stops laughing at me. “We are waiting,” I open my eyes and looks at her, “for me to be able to concentrate.” “Oh, sorry. I apologize.” I grunt at her, now in a bad mood, and go back to focusing. Thankfully, she seems to have learned the lesson, because she stays quiet, and after a few minutes I destroy the imitation.

Púlsar - Chapter 9 - The Calm Before the Storm - Ira's POV

clean

“Oh, yeah. I wanted to talk to you about Alanna and Vesa.” “Why? Did they do anything?” Emhi, arms crossed in front of her, frowns at the door as if she were thinking of going to reprimand them at this very moment. “No, it’s nothing bad” I stand up with a little hop and clean my hands on my pants. “They are kinda cute, they like talking more than you bunch do. They are definitely better than some” I look at the mirzaan and snort at his ashamed expression. “It’s just… aren’t they too young to be already working as imitators? And with me” I add. “I mean, you yourselves have said in repeated occasions that my abilities are not in their most stable moment.”

Púlsar - Chapter 7 - Ira - Ira's POV

clutter: not found

[thebadtimewolf]

Hello! I hope you don’t mind this message but I immediately jumped into the rose tag after the episode. When you say Rose died 6 times to sutekh what do you mean?

I’m not familiar with extended canon much sorry if this is a silly question :)

shorter answer: hi! it's not a silly question at all! rtd chose screengrabs of eps where rose tyler was directly in the crossfire of sutekh gift of death so she couldn't react or run. it was a choice he made! a choice! to show that beach! Again! and then put the line of 2005! Out of 15's mouth! Rose was dead before she can even start something something haunting the narrative something something blue drapes something something im sure tentoo had fun experiencing his first human death!

shortest answer but really a reminder for everyone including you: tumblr doesn't go by tags when you search (in this case) rose tyler. it goes by who types out the words "rose" and "tyler" in a post and lumps it in there with the rose tyler tag even if said post or reblogged post isn't even tagged at all. THEY USED TO! IT USED TO NOT BE CLUTTERED! BUT NOW THEY DONT! SO NOW WE GET RANDOM BOOBY BOT SPAM LINKS! I HATE IT THANKS. but also if you also see this in the tag, my point about this is made

short answer: get familiar with extended canon because rtd pulling all these bitches out for tv so u can be prepared and have further context and further horror (but fun! fun horror!) on the why is it so devastating, why the dr is so horrified but knows the villain, why it's exciting to see these things for that do know extended canon both televised, comic, book, audio, etc etc etc it's fun. it's like a rabbit hole that actually warms you while latching onto you. like the beetle backpack. but fun! plenty of fans of the show outside your bubble can show you where to look, to read, to listen, to watch, but only if you actually want to learn more about it yourself. rtd is coming in with the televised/written mindset that you already know eu and prev seasons and prev marketing strategies and prev characters referenced. that's why everything 15 brings up is short and brief about it.

long answer because brain go brrrrrrr

the shots shown of where the tardis lands in the Memory Tardis monitors shows shots from s1 s2 and s4 of eps that rose tyler was in where she was standing in front of the ship before she gets a chance to reaction ie the shots of the TARDIS before dematerialising from said location

the beach shot, pete's world - specifically the shot before tentoo and rose can look at each other in s4 journey's end

2005 was the year 9 frequented the most in regards to earth but they do two shots of rose tyler's eps (one is a cctv shot of born again/christmas invasion tardis standing after he gets carried off), (another shows the bad wolf space station) to really highlight how devastating sutekh plan actually is by showing that no matter what reality one can escape to, if the doctor or rather the tardis piloted by the doctor lands there, sutekh spreads the gift of death or as im starting to call it, the imotep tsunami

which make sutekh, if anything very through, to kill rose tyler way too many times and it looks less like 'oh rose is such a threat' and more like a dog attacking someone that harmed someone the dog cared about.

a tad over kill methinks but, it highlights the relatable devastation that the doctor has to connect to the audience that no one and nobody that isn't the current onscreen companion, not even rose marion tyler herself, is immune to sutekh over reaching hand of death.

even mel bush got hit in the end because she was a former companion.

but it's all saved at the end.

It's just that rose tyler and tentoo (tentoo's proper first time dying like human because of an invasion awwww bless! his first death as a human!!! I'm sure he was geeked out!) now have additional trauma of dying and not being able to do anything about it because the tardis screengrab they use is moments after them JUST RECIEVING the tardis seed, with him taking off.

at least in a way sutekh was probably the reason why 10 and 14 are mayfly regenerations. they didn't last as long but they made an impact.

funnily enough, this is probably the only proper harkness death where he stayed dead since abbadon. so i know when he came back AND SAW GWEN ALSO BRUSH DUST OFF HERSELF he probably cried tears of joy because it's the first time he got to die alongside the human race with a friend

so yeah fun story to tell mia when she's younger AND BBY TONY TYLER OH GOD LULUBELLE AAA sorry but I hope this somehow answers this. I'm still reeling that gallifrey essentially got dusted SO MANY TIMES that dhawan!master being sad about wiping out the species (who is death's champion) is essentially just went sad about the lie being fed to him and that he gambled with the toymaker FOR NOTHING sorry sorry anyway. christmas special might be a doozy. it just feels that way.

[call-memissbrightside]

Author’s note: well if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions lol. You all seemed to really like this post about a ComputerScienceTomura and and LiberalArtsReader, and I really like the idea so I’m running with it!

Disclaimer: I know it’s technically summer but I recalled how I use to scramble to figure out where I’d live while my college campus closed for break since going home wasn’t an option, and viola! This idea popped in my head.

TAGS: fluff with a hint of abandonment issues, grumpy Shigaraki who says bad words, mentions of a boner (it’s SFW ya nasties)

Tomura Shigaraki was looking forward to the winter break.

Not that he had plans of doing anything fun during the month and a half of no classes but it was a break from staying up so late working on stupid assignments.

It was finals season, and Tomura was hanging on by a thread. The little tolerance he had for keeping a schedule and to-do list went out the door as deadlines closed in. He usually never ate on campus, choosing to stick to himself because every student irked him.

Yet, his stomach painfully growled when he was leaving the engineering building, and the young man couldn’t recall the last time he ate something fulfilling. With a sigh of defeat, he stumbled to the student building.

Being the heart of campus, the student building was bubbling with well… students. All rushing around with textbooks and coffee, Tomura rolling his eyes at how chaotic finals made the student population. His patience was running thin.

Tomura scratched at his neck, annoyance brooding while waiting in line for Panda Express and every sorority girl in existence cutting in front of him with a giggly, “Sorry, I’m here with my friend.” His nails dug into the palm of his hands when the service worker told him they ran out of orange chicken, the only good option. Head pounding now, Shigaraki moved through the tortuous line with his takeout burning his hands and he just wants to punch the cashier for daring to ask him if he wanted to donate to the children’s hospital —

“Tomura!”

His ears perk up from the sound of your voice, and he flinched when he sees that you’re standing right there.

“Tomura, where the hell have you been loca?” You laugh. Tomura’s negative mindset is broken, and he agrees to give the rest of his change to the hospital.

“What are you doing here?” He asks you once he pays, moving out of line. You’re still smiling at him, and Tomura clears his throat to hide the fact that he’s blushing because holy shit you were really pretty and it made him empty stomach erupt in butterflies at the way you were just looking at him like he was the best person ever.

You point at a table cluttered with girls, who are all watching you two interact, much his horror.

“I’m eating dinner with my friends and saw you in line and wanted to say hi since I haven’t heard from you all day,” You say, Tomura honing in how sad you looked at the last part. He grimaced, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve been in the engineering building all fucking night.” The headache returns just remembering how frustrated he was when his programming kept failing and how his stupid fucking group didn’t help at all. He hated group projects so much.

“Oh don’t worry about it,” You try to play it off, feeling slightly embarrassed that you missed hearing from him. It wasn’t like you guys were dating, even if you and Tomura hung out a lot and texted nearly every day.

“Do you want to eat with us?” You ask, looking down at his food container.

“I promise we’re nice,” Nervous, you awkwardly laugh and pray that your friends don’t scare him off. Tomura wasn’t shy, but rather just anti social and you picked up on how he didn’t like conversing too much. But he talks to you for some reason?

Tomura wants to say no.

His social battery was drained empty and he hated awkward introductions. On the other hand, he hadn't seen you around much since finals started and didn't know if he would have time to hang out before the semester ended.

His eyes returned to the table with your friends, who are still staring and grits his teeth.

“Sure,” he mumbles. You squeal in excitement, grabbing his hand and tugging the apprehensive man to meet your friends.

Tomura notices how soft your hand is in his, and hopes his isn’t sweaty.

***

“So (Y/N), where are you going for break?” Momo Yaoyorozu asks as everyone eats.

Tomura will be honest, he forgot everyone’s name the moment they introduced themselves. So, he just sits quietly and munches on his food. He noticed that your posture stiffens at the question and Tomura wonders why.

“Oh, I think I’ll just go home.” Your answer is quick, and Tomura wants to reach out and grab your knee to stop you from tapping your foot, an obvious sign that you're uncomfortable.

“Where is home?” Yaoyorozu asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Momo! Leave her alone,” Kyoka Jiro scolds, playfully slapping her on the arm. She rolls her eyes, but gives you a knowing look.

“I apologize for my girlfriends rude question but (Y/N) where are you going once the campus closes?” Jiro and Momo looked concern, Tomura noticing how sad your expression looked.

He should say something right? Tell these girls to back off? Tomura felt a weird urge to defend you, his mind recalling how he was picked on in his early years and misinterpreted your friends concern for bullying.

“I’m going with my dad and his new wife on their family trip,” You answer plainly. Your friends looked releaved.

“Oh how fun! I could’ve asked my family to take you on our trip to Hawaii, you know it’s no issue,” Momo says.

Tomura wants to roll his eyes, pretentious girl flaunting her wealth again.

“That’s not necessary, but thank you,” You smile, but Tomura notices how your mood changes from being bubbly to more secluded once the conversation changes.

Clearing your throat, you excuse yourself to the restroom. Tomura is worried about being alone with your friends but it seemed they were focusing on your break plans once again now that you were gone.

“Do you believe her? About going home?” Momo asks Tomura, surprising him.

Tomura shrugs, “Yeah, why don’t you?”

Ochaco Uraraka sighs. “It’s just that (Y/N)’s home life isn’t the best. Her parents don’t get along.”

Jiro nods, “Last year she went home with me because her mom was out of the country and her dad got remarried.”

“They completely forget about her,” Momo adds.

Tomura doesn’t know what to do. He’d gotten closer with you as the weeks went by since first meeting. Yet, you never brought up your family or any issues you’ve had with them. Tomura looks around at how concerned your friends were, and the same feeling began growing in his chest.

***

Against his better judgement, Tomura looks up your parents that night. He was already on his laptop watching game-plays and with a quick Command-T, he opened up a new page. After admittedly spending too much time stalking, he finds that your parents divorced before you got to college and seemed to live two different lives. Your mom traveled constantly, Tomura cringing at the cheesy captions on every picture posted about her travels. Your dad was remarried to someone much younger, and had two other kids. Not once did Shigaraki see your parents post pictures of you, no mention of your existence was apparent on their social media presence.

He’s worried, but Tomura doesn’t know how to bring up his concern with you.

Weeks blur until it’s the end of the semester, and the campus closes. Walking back to his apartment after picking up some takeout, he snickers at the message you sent him.

(Y/N): trip sucks, too hot here

Tomura is secretly glad you were able to go with your dad after all. You left two days ago, hugging him goodbye and making him swear he'd continue to message you while you were gone. Shigaraki kept his promise, and admittedly checked his phone too often in fear that he'd miss a message from you.

Tomura cuts through an almost empty parking lot attatched to the campus, eyeing the small blue car with a pink bumper sticker that read “Please let me merge, I have anxiety.” That's funny, (Y/N) has the same sticker too. Oh! And that dent too! Wait a minute...

He looses his smile, and quickly walks over to the car that was bizarrely similar to yours. Shigaraki is shocked to see you sitting in it, when you should’ve been on a beach.

The hard knock on your window makes you scream. A similar look of shock could be read on you and Shigaraki’s face, and you sheepishly roll down your window.

“Oh hey Tomura, you come here often?” You joke, awkwardly smiling.

Tomura is still in shock, almost angry.

“What are you doing here?” It comes out louder and meaner then he intended, but the white haired man couldn’t contain his disbelief.

Seeing how upset he was made you burst into tears.

***

“You’ve been living out your car for two days and just planned on doing so for the whole break?” Tomura is in utter disbelief at what you explained to him through your tears.

The two of you were sitting on his couch in his apartment, and you couldn't stop crying.

"I know it sounds bad-," You try to argue but Tomura is seething.

"Why didn't you just go with your friends? Why did you lie to them? Why did you lie-," He stumbles on his words. Why did you lie me?

You shake your head, desperately trying to wipe away your tears. "They worry so much already, I didn't want to disrupt their plans with their families."

Tomura scratches at his neck, shaking with anger not at you specifically but rather how you felt like you needed to lie to him. I thought we were closer than that?

"Why didn't you go home?" The question makes you squeeze your eyes shut. With a shaky breath, you explain to Shigaraki how your mother was away on a cruise with her friends and how your father was in fact on beach trip with his new family but they didn't invite you.

"Your father didn't invite you on a family trip?" Tomura was angry before but now he was pissed.

You cry harder, making Tomura put away his anger for a moment and gathered your shaking body in for a hug. You clung to his sweatshirt, making his dry neck itch with your tears but Shigaraki was too preoccupied with how sweet you smelled to care.

Holy shit I'm huggin (Y/N), who is a girl that's really pretty and nice and what the fuck she smells so good. Wait did I shower? Do I smell? His mind was going a mile a minute and he began to panic, please do not get a boner! Don't gross her out, please for the love of god do not get a boner!

Tomura isn’t used to getting so close to a girl, much less a girl like you. Yet, the tiny voice in his head is telling him that you needed comfort. You hugged him tight, letting the stress and pain of your situation run through you.

You settle down eventually, the sky outside turning dark before you pull away from Tomura, embarrassed to be crying in front of him.

“You should stay here.” He blurts it out before he can stop himself. Tomura wasn’t going home for the holidays, he never does. He could crash in his game room while you take his bedroom, Tomura explaining how it’s no problem at all.

The young man had no idea what he was doing, he barely ever had his friends over and he liked being on his own. He hated when his things were messed with and couldn’t stand sharing.

Yet—

Your eyes were so wide, so scared and distraught. Cheeks puffy and sniffling, Tomura thought you looked like a little kid. It reminded him of when he was little, after his parents died and how he was all alone. Tomura remembers how sickening loneliness can be, and you didn’t deserve that.

“I-I can’t do that,” you try to decline his offer.

“Stay, please,” Tomura asks, looking so hopeful that’d you say yes. I just want to help, for once in my life I want to be a hero for someone.

You weighed your options. Your parents were not in the picture, your friends were all gone and honestly sleeping in your car wasn’t all that fun. Tomura is my friend, you think.

“I can pay my rent through slushees,” You declare.

Tomura scoffs, flicking your forehead before heading to his kitchen to make something to eat for the both of you.

“Deal, but you’re banned from making me watch Pride and Prejudice again,” He yells over his shoulder.

Your instant screams of disapproval makes Tomura Shigaraki laugh out loud.

[mcmoth]

Dream SMP fandom etiquette

So. This post is probably too little, too late, considering the fandom and the issues I'm about to talk about have existed for so long now, and a lot of the people who need to hear this probably aren't on tumblr anyways, but I just wanted to dedicate a quick post to talk about fandom etiquette. Mostly pertaining to discourse, and interactions with people outside of our circle. These are just going to be my own personal thoughts, of course, but I felt it could be good to bring some of this to attention. So without further introduction:

Where to (not) talk about discourse:

Don't go into other streamer's vods to only focus about a different character. If you want to analyse, for example, c!Techno, do it in Techno's stream. Don't go into unrelated streams, like Tommy's, Tubbo's etc. to do it, even if they were a part of the event in question. This is, of course, with the exception if the character in question didn't stream their own pov. But otherwise, stay in your own space. This is to prevent cluttering a streamer's comments about unrelated discussion. To give further example: Tubbo's vod comments should primarily focus on Tubbo's character. Not Tommy's, Ranboo's, Techno's or whoever else's.

Don't start discourse in the comments of animatics. Seriously, stop that. Animatics aren't discussion boards. The comments are there to analyse and appreciate the video presented, not argue. It's especially rude if you pick a small detail, that wasn't even the focus of the animatic, or even a completely unrelated issue to rant out your frustrations about. To give examples: starting disc discourse in an animatic of Tommy talking to Wilbur, or rambling about how tragic Techno's character is in an animatic focused on clingy duo, etc.

This applies to fan songs as well.

Video essays are the exception to these rules. I think it's safe to say they're the place to bring your hot takes, if you really feel so inclined to argue in youtube comment sections (Though I'd personally advise to still keep the topic relevant).

Keep negativity out of fanfic comments. This isn't nearly as big of an issue as the last points, but I've seen it happen a couple times, so I'm deciding to mention it. Fanfics are written for fun. Even if you disagree with the characterisation or something else, unless the author is clear in accepting critique, keep criticism to yourself. And definitely don't rant about how you dislike a character unrelated to the fanfic. Sharing your thoughts on the fanfic itself is of course fine and welcomed, but when it turns from discussing the author's story to talking about how you dislike a character in canon, that's when it crosses a line. Example: comment talking about what you don't like about c!Tommy on a Bench Trio fanfiction.

When commenting on art, keep the feedback positive. Even if you dislike any presented character, keep that to yourself. Example: Don't say things like "I hate x character, but this art is good". You might think the author would feel honoured, but it's actually just hurtful.

How to deal with discourse:

This is gonna be a shorter section, because I think we all chose to do it in different ways, and that's valid. Also, it's just that I, myself, am still learning how to do this well, but I thought it could be good to try to lay it out anyways.

Try to scroll past takes you disagree with instead of arguing if you don't think you'd be able to keep your cool. Noone likes a random person yelling at them through a screen, and if you rant, you'll get an equally frustrated reply back, and noone will be happy. Either explain your point in a calm manner, or scroll past/ unfollow/block.

On the keeping cool thing, remember to just step away. Take a deep breath and calm yourself down before proceeding. To minimize the frustration you feel on a daily basis, filter tags, block people, avoid videos and youtube comment sections that you know will upset you, and leave certain internet spaces if you find yourself unable to escape negativity even with all those steps. Remember: in the end, it's all a game played by friends, a story, and your enjoyment of it lies in what you take from it. Abandon what makes you unhappy. Marie Kondo your fandom experience.

Also, here's your reminder, to whom this is relevant, to take care of yourself. Hydrate, eat, sleep, clean up, get fresh air, remember the things outside of all this. There's plenty to do outside of this fandom, and what you can do here can wait. There is no pressure, or obligation. Not for the content you create, not for the discussions you bring, not for responding to discourse, not for anything. Fandom is meant purely for fun, so take care <3

Interacting with people outside of the fandom:

This is something that I've seen a bit of talk about, and I thought I'd drop in my own thoughts on this as well. No matter the differences, we're all just trying to vibe, and I think these are important things to keep in mind to leave both sides better off:

Don't interact with hate posts. Just don't. You don't want to see them, they don't want to see you. Even if your response is lighthearted, their animosity is not. They will feel frustrated regardless, and the grudge will only grow. And if they're being agressive, calm discussion most likely won't happen even if you're being polite. Just leave it, please.

Correct misinformation calmly. I completely get how it can be frustrating to see blatant lies and all, but with our reputation, people will not listen if you're being antagonistic. Provide sources, explain, and leave it at that.

Don't be hateful, send death threats, or assume privilege or whatever else. That's stepping into the same shoes of the people you hate. Misunderstandings go both ways, and the fact of the matter is, I think most people who dislike DSMP, even the ones who are agressive about it, don't have their stance rooted in maliciousness. To expand on why the situation became what it is today, taken from a discussion on discord:

I think it's just a combination of Dream growing so insanely quickly + how internet spaces have changed over the years. When ccs like jackstepticeye or pewdiepie etc. grew popular, activism wasn't as prevalent and held to such importance. Now it's thankfully more talked about, but that also leads to Dream being more scrutinized in comparision. Add twitter trends and the general prevalence of the fandom, and you've got everyone feeling tired and frustrated and paranoid. People also tend not to fact check stuff, especially when it comes to celebrities and stuff they're not really interested in, so rumors spread fast.

And actually, I think there's absolutely valid reasons to be made uncomfortable by Dream SMP, either in it's creators, content or fandom, and there is, of course, stuff to criticise in general. The problem is the hate and misinformation and overexposure, but we are not going to solve any of that by being aggressive in return.

(This is, by the way, not talking about more serious cases. Like doxxing, or leaving gore images in hashtags, or similar instances. That's a whole different complicated issue that I don't feel qualified to tackle.)

And finally, don't overwhelm outsiders who merely mention the Dream SMP. Don't send asks asking them to watch it, don't write paragraphs explaining the lore, don't confuse them with inside jokes, just... Don't jump on people like that. Unless they're explicitly clear in wanting interaction and getting into the fandom, that kind of thing will just drive them away. This is in no way exclusive to the Dream SMP fandom, pretty much every fandom has people enthiastic to have more people involved, but since there are so unbelievably many of us, it's especially easy to go overboard with this stuff. Just... be polite, and don't pressure anyone. Be nice, please.

So.... ya! This would be it for this one, I think. Sorry that it's kinda long, thank you if you read it at all. Hope y'all have pleasant days ^^

[ninacarstairss]

PARABATAI WEEK -> day 2, Will Herondale and Jem Carstairs @carstairgray & @clarys-heosphoros

tw mention of blood

“They really should start sending us after more dangerous demons” Will said, his head turning to look at Jem as he walked up to him, a playful smile dancing on his lips. “They're wasting all our potential.”

Jem grinned back at his parabatai and Will threw his arm around his shoulders as they made their way back to the institute. Charlotte had sent them off on a mission to neutralize some demons on the banks of the river Thames, near Blackfriars bridge. It was a small horde of ravener demons, easy to take down for Jem, Will and Henry.

As soon as they'd defeated the demons Henry ran back to the institute babbling something about a new antidote to the raveners' poison he had to work on, and Jem and Will stayed behind to apply  iratzes where the demons had scratched them and to catch some breath.

“I know you're rather fond of hydra and raum demons, my friend” Jem countered as they walked. “But not all demons can have laughable protuberances.”

“Oh, come on, that hydra demon from two weeks ago had somehow managed to knot two of its necks together and couldn't free itself.” Jem rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but Will cut him off before he could. “I saw you stifle a laugh too, James Carstairs.”

Jem's cheeks flushed pink and Will smirked at him.

Tuned out he really couldn't lie to his parabatai. Jem threw his head back and laughed with Will, then they fell into lighthearted conversation as they closed in on Fleet Street.

The adrenaline of the battle still coursed through them both and Jem only saw the new ravener demon when it was too close to them. His jaw clenched and Will understood and turned with him, a hand going to his sword without hesitation, his senses sharpening again. Jem felt Will move beside him, but the demon took a leap and climbed up the nearest building. Jem threw a dagger at it and severed one of its legs, causing it to fall off the wall, but not hurting it enough to kill it. He lunged forward and sliced a cut on its side as Will slashed another of its legs off, their movements swift and sure, steadied by the strength of the parabatai in battle.

Jem managed to cut the demon's tail and it soon vanished back to its dimension, but before he could see or hear it, another ravener demon crawled up to him from behind, and Will lunged forward to cover him as it attacked.

Everything seemed to happen too fast. Jem saw Will running to him and throwing his blade at the demon, but before he could kill it, the tail reached his chest. Then he saw Will fall on the ground and the world seemed to vanish. He ran to him, slashing at the demon and sending it back to its dimension, but his vision was blackened at the edges and his chest hurt. He kneeled besides his parabatai and took out his stele. Will's blue eyes were closed and his breaths ragged and heavy.

“Will. Will, wake up. Open your eyes!” Jem drew three iratzes on his chest and Will's eyes fluttered open; Jem let out the breath he'd been holding.

“Jem” Will whispered, before a violent cough shook his body. He coughed blood.

Jem drew another iratze on Will's chest but the wound didn't seem to grow any smaller and the blood wouldn't stop flowing. He felt a wave of panic catch hold of him as the pain in his chest widened. He felt heavy and lost, and Will was shutting his eyes again. “Will don't close your eyes, please. Stay with me.”

Jem drew another iratze, then another one, but nothing happened. Will's breathing was slowing and he was loosing too much blood. Jem felt him slipping away. He summoned all the strength he could muster, picked up Will and ran to the institute.

———

Everything in him hurt, and Jem couldn't tell whether it was the aftermath of the battle, the effort of carrying Will, the yin fen low in his blood or Will's own pain getting to him. But he didn't care about his own pain as two Silent Brothers told him that Will's wound was deep, no vital organs were damaged but his situation was delicate.

“Will he recover?” asked Charlotte from beside him.

We cannot know yet. We will come back tomorrow to see that the injury is not infected.

Jem let the words sink in. He couldn't find anything to say or ask.

He walked in the infirmary and as his eyes laid on Will's body, still on the white sheets, his heart skipped several beats. It felt wrong. Will was always moving, always talking, always full of life. Now he laid too still, his face expressionless and his blue eyes shut.

Jem took a deep breath, then he grabbed a chair and sat besides his parabatai. He took one of Will's hands in his and brought it to his lips. “My Will” he whispered against his scarred knuckles.

———

For four days Jem didn't leave Will's side. The Silent Brothers came to check on his parabatai’s injury and they seemed less hopeful every passing day. Charlotte came in too, every day. Jem knew it costed her dearly: he could see the pain and guilt in her eyes, the fear of the knowledge that Will might not wake and that she would have been the one to send him off to his last mission. Jem wished to console her, to reassure her that Will did it to save Jem and he would have done the same for his parabatai, and that Will was stubborn and no one could have stopped him. He wished to tell her not to worry, because his parabatai would open his eyes again. But the words caught on his lips every time he tried to speak them.

Henry, Sophie and Jessamine visited too, but the sight of Will, so silent and still troubled them too. Charlotte brought in food for Jem and pleaded him to eat and go to sleep for a while, she would watch over Will, but Jem couldn't leave and he wasn't hungry.

When the Brother came back on the fourth day Jem only heard their words from a great distance.

We cannot do anything more. Should he not wake in the next 48 hours his condition will worsen.

Jem's breathing hitched. He felt something inside him break as he sat back next to Will. His Will. The other half of his soul.

He felt the thread between them loosen, he had been feeling it for days, but he clung to it like a lifeline. A tear rolled down his cheek as he leaned on and pressed his forehead to Will's, closing his eyes. “You do not get to leave first” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “You don't get to leave me alone on this earth, Will Herondale. That is not how it was supposed to go.” His voice broke and he let the tears roll down, unable to stop the pain that was invading his heart. Jem took his parabatai's hand and squeezed it hard, willing him to open his eyes, to protest about the tight grip and make one of his witty remarks. “Prove me” he continued, “how truly stubborn you are. Prove me Raziel would truly send you back out of annoyance. Come back to me, Will.���

———

When he opened his eyes the light of morning painted the room in tones of yellow and gold. He didn't remember falling asleep. He shouldn't have fallen asleep.

He turned his head with a swift movement and his breath caught. Will was awake. Strands of dark curls clouded his eyes, open and beautifully blue, his face was still paler than usual but his features were relaxed and his lips curved in a smile. His hand was still clutched in Jem's.

“Oh Will.” Jem surged forward and hugged his parabatai, nuzzling his head in the curve of his neck and burying his hands in his dark hair. He heard Will chuckle and everything in the world and inside him fell back into place.

“Easy, easy” Will said, laughing softly. “I still have a massive gash somewhere around my person, I hear. Let us hope it won't scar my beautiful body too badly.”

Jem drew back and laughed as he apologized, but he stayed close to Will and drank the brilliance of his smile and the light gleaming in his eyes.

Will was finally awake.

“Oh, Will” he repeated, resting a hand on Will's cheek. “I was so worried. I felt– I felt something slitting our bond and I thought– ”

“I know” Will said before he could finish. “I felt it too. And it was worse than the pain of the wound.” He squeezed Jem's hand. “I'm sorry” he said.

“Don't you dare apologize.” Will smiled and dipped his head. “But don't ever do this again, please.”

Will's eyes met his and his parabatai’s smile grew bigger. He nodded firmly and pulled Jem in for another hug.

Jem knew that was a frail promise. Will would throw himself in front of any demon to shield Jem countless times again, if it meant he would save his life. And so would Jem. They would be in that room again, tending to wounds less serious, he hoped, but it would happen. It was the life they’d been given. it was the life they chose.

The words of the parabatai oath echoed in the back of his mind and he thought of how much of a gift and an honour it was to have, and to be, a parabatai, but how much strength it required, too.

And, as he watched the light shine in Will's eyes, he thought that Will had been his strength all along, when he couldn't fight for himself or find hope in the depth of his bones. Will was his heart, and he’d been too close to losing him.

tag list: @cordaisya @im-not-ruined-im-ruination @surrounded-by-exquisite-clutter @stxr-thxif @icycoolslushie @writeforjordelia @gabtapia @fair-childd @clarys-heosphoros (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

[binniesthighs]

Can you write something like female reader teasing hyunjin before performance and like he gets kinda mad and after performance puts her in place and maybe overstimulates her but still he is soft dom but bottom. Does it make sense?😂

which you and hyunjin have 20 minutes until someone notices, or rather, 19 minutes, leaving 1 for you to put your clothes back on

thank you anon for being so patient while I got this out!! <3

19 minutes | reader x hyunjin

Pairing: self insert, female reader x hwang hyunjin

Genre: that good good smut

Tags: idol!hyunjin, established relationship au, softdombottom!hyunjin, bratty!reader, explicit language, mentions of masturbation, semi-public teasing, thigh riding, dry humping, oral (f receiving), face sitting, spanking, overstimulation + multiple orgasms, semi-public sex

Word count: 1.8k 

Gif creds to OP!

“I know what you’re trying to do.”

It’s cold out in the back alley where you’ve led him, and the tips of your ears sting with heat. He’s slipped his hands inside your coat with curious fingers that tug at the folds of your shirt. His lips taste like that strawberry-flavored chapstick you had hidden in his pocket before.

There’s steam emanating off his body that turns into white vapor in the air. Hyunjin’s grip on you is tight, regardless of the fact that nearly anyone could see you had they turned their head.

You lean into him fully, pressing his body and yours against back door which is crinkling with old green paint. His scalp is damp, but that doesn’t get in your way of pulling his dark strands to connect your lips deeply with his.

“Is practice almost over? How much more time do you have?”

Even standing, you grind your hips into his the best you can, giggling out when you feel how hard that he’s gotten. It’s so cute; just getting riled up from this. You then let your hands slither up his shirt, and he hisses at the temperature. 

“-Not enough time to do what you want.” He answers.

“But what if I can’t wait?” You bite a smile into his lip. 

Hyunjin’s head falls back onto the door with a thud when you let your creeping fingers tug at his waistband.

“Now? We’re about to go on?” He’s slipping under your touch, but he carries an annoyed edge to his tone.

“You really don’t have time?” You teased the words out from your lips while your fingertips traced over the outline of his hard on.

“What? Do you need me to spell it out for you?”

“Spell what?”

Hyunjin swings you around, switching positions so that now he’s got you pinned. He kicks your legs open, thrusting one of his thighs between them. You’re helpless, and its like an instinct that you grind down on it. Your boyfriend flexes his muscle, just like you like it.

Hyunjin tilts your head to the side to imprint more fleeting kisses on your neck. “Just you wait till I can get my hands on you.”

“You don’t have any time at all?”

Even with a coat on, you can still feel the cold metal door behind your back.

“I could...make some.”

“Why didn’t you say that before?!” You would’ve been furious, but the pressure from his thigh on your clit dissolves your self-control.

His hands on your face feel huge where he cradles you. “After the performance, we have to sit and watch a couple other groups, I can get away then.”

“They won’t notice?”

“People do it all the time. I could be going to the bathroom for all they care.”

“Want to meet there?”

“The bathroom?” Hyunjin laughs out jokingly, tossing his head back. The dainty silver earrings he wears sparkle under the streetlights. “Hell no.”

He shocks you by moving his leg, and your thighs pathetically shudder from the loss of contact.

“Is that what you want? Me bending you over some sink?” He sweeps up both of your hands in his to warm them up with his breath. “I have a better idea.”

✦✧✦✧

Your cap hides your eyes where you attempt to blend in the rest of the staff, busying yourself with a clipboard that’s been left unattended. Over the loudspeakers there’s music booming from a song that you haven’t heard before--likely a comeback stage, you think to yourself. Down the darkly lit hall, you see the glow of the dressing rooms that hustle with staff members jogging in and out. They’re shouting demands at eachother, and the shuffling of feet can be heard even from this far away.

“Are you ready? Are we ready?” It’s their manager’s voice that you recognize.

“Everyone okay? Innie, youre--” Chan’s sunny laughter spills out of the room, and you turn your head as the group starts to walk out.

Your heart beats in your throat when you see Hyunjin, no longer a sweating mess and hair and makeup perfectly fixed, trail out last. None of them see you, even as they walk right past you. Hyunjin however, in the least conspicuous way possible, twists his head around to search for you.

You tug your hat down further, walking right up to him.

“Oh. Sorry.” You bow after purposefully running into him.

He says nothing, only meeting your eyes for that one moment of understanding. Hyunjin waits until they’re nearly at their seats when you watch as he whispers something into Felix’s ear, then rubs his head like it hurts. Felix nods immediately, and pats him on the back. Hyunjin does the same to his manager who looks considerably more concerned and it looks like he’s offering to go with him, but Hyunjin nods him away.

It’s only when he starts walking directly towards you that this all feels real.

He walks right past you, muttering out, “Follow me.”

✦✧✦✧

Hyunjin’s fingers lace between yours as he guides you down the length of the hallway and the pat of your hurried steps taps on the linoleum flooring.

“Hyunjin--” You hiss out the words, “Where are we going?”

“Dressing room.” He’s still wearing his green contacts, and they only make that glint in his eye more ravenous.

It’s dark and cluttered in there, and you have to tiptoe around bundles of coats, makeup organizers and to-go containers. Hyunjin shuffles around in the dark, then lights up his face with the white from his phone screen.

“What are you doing??”

“Setting a timer.” He says matter-of-factly.

“A timer?? You’re kidding.”

“We’ve got at least 20 minutes until someone might come looking for me, 19 minutes if we count the 1 it takes for us to put our clothes back on.”

Hyunjin taps the “start” button.

“You’re not kidding.”

“What? Don’t trust me? You know that it doesn’t take you that long.”

Hyunjin takes you by the hands to one of those blue (you think) plastic-feeling couches.

“Stop wasting time,” He whispers, then draws you into his arms while pulling you into his lap where he sits down. You straddle him, pouring your pent up adoration back onto his lips. In the dark, you feel him smile against you.

Once again, you grind down into him. Hyunjin’s hands fall down to the small of your back where he guides the rolling of your hips.

“Bold of you to come here thinking that you could get something out of me. You’re lucky that I have a hard time saying no to you...still, I’ve missed you.” His voice drops lowly, “Do you want to know a secret?”

You’re too breathless to give him anything else than “Mm?”

“When no one’s around, all I can think about your pretty lips sucking me off.” His fingers ticked the skin of your stomach, all the way up to your breasts which he took roughly in his hands. “When no one’s around, I imagine that it’s your hand instead of mine. Did you know that you do that to me?”

It was too much for you to handle thinking of him like that: desperately pumping into his own hand with your name on his lips. If you had more time, you would have told him that you did the exact same on your nights alone.

“Hyun--”

“But you come here, begging me...”

You circle your hips harder, both of your gasping breaths become heavier.

“I’ll give you what you want...until you can’t take it anymore.”

Your arms fall behind his back, and scrape up and down over his suit jacket--the threads of which are more expensive than you can fathom. Hyunjin holds fast to you, laying down with you on top of him.

“However long we have, I want to spend it on you.”

“Hyunjin...”

“Time’s ticking.” He snickers, then hurriedly unbuttons your pants.

Your chest pounds with excitement and nervousness being bare in the dressing room, as well as in front of him. The sound of your jeans hitting the ground seems to make everything go faster.

Your boyfriend tugs at your legs as you guide yourself nearer to his mouth. He uses his fingers first, plunging deep into your entrance. The sounds of your arousal wet his fingers and he’s laughing out in disbelief under you. After being together for this long, he knows exactly how to curve his fingertips inside of you to graze at your g-spot: an action that sends you biting deep into your lip. His thumb brushes over your clit as if on accident and your body jerks at the sensation.

Hyunjin’s fingers find you in the dimly lit room, granting you the taste wrapped on his fingers. It distracts you from his grasp on your hips and how he pulls you into his tongue. If this were any other time, he would have taken his time with you, but now, he was relentless. He had you by the tip of his tongue in the way that he could send your body reeling from each circle and stripe. His gorgeously plump lips kissed into your sensitive bud while he kept his unforgiving pace.

“Fuck--Hyunjin...”

His hair might have been perfectly styled before, but now, your fingers raked through it carelessly. For seconds, you wondered what they would say if they saw it all messed up like that just because of you.

“Close, I’m gonna--”

He didn’t pause, but rather hummed tiny little moans into your clit. You had been preoccupied, but his legs were still squirming with his twitching dick between them.

You squealed when he brought his hand back, pumping inside of you once more. He stung your skin, bringing a slap downwards that undoubtedly could have been heard outside the door. He brought you to your orgasm just as you felt your arousal drip down your thigh. You choked out your moans as quietly as you could.

His hand cupped over your mouth, then ordered, “You don’t have to be so careful princess.”

You took the hint, and your moans muffled into the cracks of his fingers.

He continued, forcing your legs to shiver and your hips to writhe over his mouth. You were lightheaded from catching your breath, and your clit throbbed in the aftermath of your orgasm with another one unbearably close.

It washed over you faster than the first, and you had little time to remember that the timer was still ticking. Your entire core felt tight while he brought you back down slowly lapping with a flat tongue.

“W-wait--”  

“Can’t take any more?” Hyunjin gifted one last lingering kiss in your wet folds.

“That was...”

“Felt good, hm?”

You stumbled off of him with legs forgetting how to function.

“How much more time do we have?”

Hyunjin wiped his mouth with the backside of his hand, then checked his screen. “Two minutes...You could’ve got me in trouble, showing up like this, you know that?”

You giggled, “I know.”

Your boyfriend tugged up a little at your belt loops, pulling the denim into your still-sensitive bud.

“When we’ve got more time, who knows what else I’ll do to you princess.”

[the-witty-pen-name]

Wallflower

18+ ONLY 

Ezra (Prospect) x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k 

Warnings: fluff, mutual pining, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), masturbation, dirty dreams, implies age gap (reader is in 20s+/of age, just younger than Ezra)

No use of (y/n) in this one!

A/N: I know this was not one of the things I should be working on, and I procrastinated on my coursework yet again to write fan fic. I’m so in love with Ezra and I have wanted to write something for this character for a while. It’s my first time writing for him and I was so intimidated to write something about him because his manner of speaking is so unique that I’m worried I won’t do him justice! Hopefully you all enjoy! 

Next thing I post will be the final part of Rest! It is currently in progress! 

I will be updating my taglist form soon to include Ezra and other Pedro characters I write for so check out for that if you want to be tagged in future fics! 

This is unedited and if I miss something to tag as a warning please let me know!

Tags and Requests and OPEN

“Ezra, for once can you please shut the fuck up. You’re driving me crazy,” you sigh, pulling off your helmet as you both return to your shared pod. It was a fairly long trek from the mining site back to your makeshift home and Ezra, being himself, talked the whole time- not once missing a beat.

“Not once have I ever had the pleasure of conversing with one as eloquently a sweet talker as yourself,” Ezra winks, making you roll your eyes. You weren’t actually mad at him, you could never, but one of the side effects of Ezra was limited moments of peace and quiet. In many ways, you and Ezra were very similar, and it made you really compatible partners.

But unlike Ezra, you really enjoyed quiet. Ezra, on the other hand, has had more than his fill of quiet for his lifetime and he basked in the ability to vocalize his every passing thought to you. It wasn’t often you felt the need to tell him to stop, but today had been particularly challenging and you couldn’t think of anything else besides the quiet of night and a good rest.

Ezra and you worked well because you were so much alike, but your differences also paired you two nicely. Ezra was without a doubt the biggest and most long-winded talker you had ever met and you were the best listener, opting to be the silent one in the conversation more times than not. You weren’t necessarily shy, just someone of a quieter nature. You mostly kept to yourself, by choice really, while Ezra struggled with solitude, it was one of the strengths of yours that you were able to endure it better than he could.

When you first met Ezra, he had called you wallflower, cause frankly you were one. Settled in the far corner of the pod with your notebook in hand, sketching instead of talking with the rest of the crew, Ezra made the effort to saunter over to you and made it his personal mission since day one to break you out of your shell. Made sure during mealtimes, he sat next to you, talked to you, asked you questions. Frankly, you owe the friendship you have with him now to his openness and talkative nature.

“Flower, I hope my parley on the trek back didn’t offend,” he says as he sheds off his suit.

“Not at all,” you say with a small smile, “Sometimes my meter runs out on my ability to listen. Tires me out.”

“I suppose I can understand,” Ezra replies, “I honestly seem to have the opposite problem, all my years in the Green, I never had the pleasure of someone to listen to besides my lonesome. Now that I have you, I find myself utterly unable to suppress my desire of spoken prose and I’m afraid I do tend to take advantage of your gentle nature.”

You nod, understanding him very well. It was coming up on seven months since you and Ezra had been on your own. The other three members of your crew had parted ways with you both, seeking out a better treasure.

Ezra, knowing what this planet and greed does, insisted on just doing his job and leaving, and you strongly agreed. It had been so long since the three of them went off for the buried riches, and you don’t even know if they will be returning to your pod at your scheduled time of departure in a few months’ time. Ezra told you stories about how he’s witnessed this job change people, and how he’s seen planets swallow up one’s humanity with no forgiveness. He was doubtful that any of them would return, and you were now starting to realize that his prediction since the beginning was correct.

Once your suit was off and put away, you smoothed out your hair as best you could by touch without a mirror, and headed over to the storage cubby where you both had your rations and grabbed you both a bar. You tossed one over to Ezra and he caught it effortlessly. Peeling back the wrapper of yours, you took a bite and collapsed on your cot.

“I never thought I’d miss those meals they served in the mess hall up in the station,” you comment, “I’d take a portion of those watery mashed potatoes and mystery meatloaf in a heartbeat if it meant I never had to touch one of these bars again.”

Your words made Ezra chuckle, his laugh deep and husky. You loved it. Your chest always swelled with pride just a tad when you had the ability to make him laugh or smile. More often, it was always him getting those reactions from you with his words and you liked the feeling when you were able to return the favor.

You closed your eyes, not falling asleep, just letting them rest while you chewed the rubbery ration. Ezra, tore through his always rather quickly, and he noticed that you still tried to savor yours despite your complaints. Like the taste, even though lacking and the texture terrible, was still like a reward for completing another hard day’s work. He admired that about you. You hadn’t been working this job as many years as him, as he was a few (plus a few more) years your senior. The things about this job he’s long since ignored or has gotten used to, still affected you. You still tried to taste your food, instead of scoffing it down like him and other seasoned prospectors.

“I can feel you staring, Ezra,” you say, breaking him out of his thoughts. He felt flushed knowing that he had been caught. It wasn’t intentional, more and more it was hard to keep his mind clear of thoughts of you.

“Sorry, flower,” he mutters, and you smirk, rendering him speechless for the first time all day.

It was undeniable that Ezra’s feelings for you were bubbling up closer and closer to the surface each passing day he spent in your company. You grounded him in ways he hadn’t realized he had needed. He needed someone to reign in his ramblings and tether him back when he lets his mind wander too deep. He needed you. There was this dependency that tied him to you now more than he ever experienced with another partner. It was friendship, sure. But he’s been friendly with partners past, and not once has he felt about them what he feels towards you.

He was a hopeless romantic, his thoughts of love and relationships were as poetic as the words he spoke. Yearning, completely head over heels, his mind constantly cluttered with scenarios of the ways he would court and win your affection if there was no inkling that lingered in his mind that was there to remind him it was a bad idea. You were much more practical than he ever hoped to be, much more wired for logic than he was. However, Ezra was blissfully unaware of how he had begun to rub off on you.

You found yourself daydreaming, caught up in your own little fantasies and escapes from reality, far more often than you had ever in your lifetime. Ezra, always the star at the center of it all. Living a life where you could stay with him somewhere more permanent, different career that didn’t require you both to float from planet to planet, chasing after prizes that weren’t actually yours- you just acted as a vessel, a taxi service for someone else’s riches.

You imagine scenarios where you would have met Ezra at a different time, or a different place. However, you often scolded yourself for allowing your stupid crush to occupy so much of your time. You were here for a job. And then you will leave and move on to your next one like always. It would be too painful to face rejection anyways, you reason. You can imagine the look on his face, thinking about the nicest way possible to reject you. That’s what you want to avoid, the pity. The niceties that will be forced after his inevitable rejection. The first friendship you’ve had the pleasure of having in years are gone just like that.

The pod was more spacious than the pod you would’ve been issued had it just been you and Ezra since the beginning. Two people sharing a pod designed for six felt much more like a livable space. More leg room, more spaces for privacy, it felt a little more like a studio apartment special wise than a glorified tent. You had even pushed a couple of the standard issue cots together and secured them tightly. You had the luxury of an extra pillow, and two of the thin mattress pads- it was like you had a full-size bed, with a beam running down the middle you did your best to cover by overlapping the mattress pads in the center. It was the most comfortable sleeping arrangement you’ve ever had on these expeditions.

Ezra and you strung a line across where both of your makeshift beds were positioned in the pod, and you hung a tarp across the line to make yourselves a privacy curtain. It was like you had your own room and he had his own as well. Ezra’s side was a little cleaner than yours, yours was a little cluttered with little mementos you find and want to bring back with you. Rocks, or small geodes… occasionally you’d bring back small plants that you double checked were nontoxic and you had them set up in makeshift planters- one of the crewmates that left abandoned an extra helmet that was damaged, and now you have an obscure green and purple plant sprouting up proudly from it.

Ezra’s side was much more standard. He had a pile of his old books, all of them weathered, looking like they’d been through hell and back. He had field books, and notebooks that held his years of accumulated knowledge of how he’s survived the Green. He ended up copying your bedding arrangement, and he agreed it was the most comfortable bed he’s had in years. He said it felt like a luxury a prospector like himself didn’t deserve. He also had a small collection of rocks that lined the ledge behind his bed. Little gifts from you, all of them.

“This one reminded me of you,” you’d say, passing him a unique rock while you struggled to keep the handful of the others you collected balanced in your hands. The grin on your face when you’d collect the little things was one of his favorite sights. When the partition that separated the beds was opened, it was a comical sight. Like a bedroom of a married couple on old television shows, where they had different beds and each side was decorated to that person’s tastes. Most of the time though, the partition was closed.

It made changing easier, the bathrooms and showers in pods no matter the occupancy size always had small, cramped bathrooms. However, it created a false sense of privacy because it did absolutely nothing in terms of suppressing noises. Ezra sometimes babbled nonsense in his sleep. The man literally unable to stop talking even when he was rendered unconscious. Most of the times it was completely incomprehensible, not even sounding like real words. Sometimes you’d hear a sentence maybe, but without knowing his dreams it was still alien to you. It was comforting to you hearing him on the other side of the partition, and knowing he was right on the other side made it easier for you to sleep.

Tonight, was no different, curled up in your bed, you were drifting off to sleep while Ezra had long fallen asleep before you. The weight of today’s expedition felt like it melted right off of your body as soon as your head hit the pillow. You were close to falling asleep, just savoring the moments of comfort before letting your mind drift when you heard Ezra say your name on the other side of the makeshift wall.

“What is it, Ezra?” you whisper, grumbling that he interrupted you right before falling asleep. He doesn’t respond, and instead you hear a low snore on the other side. He must’ve fallen back asleep, you figure, closing your eyes. They shoot open a few minutes later when he repeats your name again, but this time it’s a deep moan. His voice was husky and it sent a vibration right up the back of your spine. Your eyes widened at the realization that on the other side of the curtain, Ezra was dreaming about you. You shivered when he let out another involuntary, low groan. If you hadn’t been listening you probably wouldn’t have even heard it.

What do you do? You mind is racing with trying to figure out how to handle this situation. Do you wake him up? You also try your hardest to ignore how every small noise on the other side of the curtain is just going right to your core, making your thighs squeeze together while you keep your own arousal at bay. It was wrong of you to listen in, but you really don’t have much of a choice. You force yourself to take a few unsteady breaths to calm yourself, but it does nothing to ease you in your shocked state. Kevva, the noises he was making were like music. You often wondered what he would sound like. His voice on its own is already so perfect. But in this context? You wanted to hear nothing else.

You don’t even know how long you lay on your bed paralyzed before the temptation becomes too much and you are sliding one hand down the length of your torso and into your sleep shorts. You delicately slide your hand under your dampened underwear and your fingers instinctively find your clit. You bite your lip, trying your best to suppress the whimpers that escape your lips as you think about the man behind the partition. Your months of pining for him you finally let yourself submit to.

It had been a while. There was no privacy on the pod at any moment. When someone was using the shower, from the other room everyone could always hear the rustling around, if they were humming. It was better to just not try at all. The risk of getting caught was always too high. This was the first time you acknowledged and succumbed to your desires this entire mission. It had been so difficult to avoid, but now, you are taking advantage of the opportunity presenting itself to you. You weren’t even thinking twice, just closing your eyes and imaging the fingers inside you belonged to Ezra. You were so caught up in your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that Ezra’s side of the room had fallen silent.

Ezra sat up on his bed, His eyes fixated completely on the tarp that was the only thing separating him from you. He felt shameful, waking up from another dream about you. He woke up hard, and he felt immensely guilty. Then he heard your soft moans you were trying so hard to hold back. Now he sat on his bed, completely captivated by the noises on the other side, while he pleaded with himself to either make a move or just try to ignore it and get a few more hours of sleep. He snapped when he heard his name fall off your lips in a small whisper.

“I can feel you staring, Ezra,” he hears you say on the other side of the curtain. He smiles, probably ear to ear like a goddamn dopey teenager. He stands up and pulls the curtain back, and his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you laid out. You had stopped, knowing your statement would cause him to pull the curtain back, but the evidence of what you were doing still lingered- your hair sprawled out messy on the pillow, your sleepshirt haphazardly pushed up exposing the smooth skin and curves to him, the slick on your fingertips and the small wet spot on the front of your shorts. You looked up at him with doe eyes and he thought he might collapse on the floor at the sight of you.

“Flower,” he whispers breathlessly in the dark. The only light coming in was from the moonlight outside from the small window on your side you had opened. He thought you looked ethereal, a sight to behold that he was not worthy of gazing upon. He’s speechless. You can’t quite make out his facial expression in the dark and you mistake his breathless tone for discomfort.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, sitting up slightly. “I just... I heard you dreaming about me; we don’t have to bring this up again. Its just loneliness getting to me…”

He tentatively kneels down in front of your bed and you move to hide your face in the pillow so you don’t have to face him. He gently cups your face in his hand, and guides you back to face him. He actually says your name, and you might die hearing it on his lips.

“If what you say is true, and this is nothing more than a lapse in judgement, fueled by the loneliness of the Green, I swear to you I shall never as I live hold this moment against you, and you and I shall commence in the morning living like it never happened. But, if there is any chance these feelings that I have harbored for you are reciprocated, please grant me this opportunity to show you how much I am completely transfixed by you.”

You are now the one rendered speechless as you try to process the new information and the proposal Ezra has offered you. You are having difficultly allowing yourself to believe any of this or anything he says is true. Part of you was wondering if this was part of a dream and you hadn’t yet realized you were asleep. You had to reach out and touch his face, feeling his stubble under your touch, any sort of evidence to know he was physically right there.

“You’re real,” you mumble to yourself, and he chuckles. He takes the hand which you had rested on his face and he presses a kiss to your wrist.

“The number of times I have thought the same thing about you,” he mutters, moving your hand to press a gentle kiss to the back of it. “Flower, please…”

“This is more than a just a whim,” you admit, exhaling shakily, “Ezra… I love you.”

“Oh, how I’ve longed to hear those gracious words on your lips, flower,” he smiles, his gaze not breaking from your face.

You lean forward, capturing his lips in a kiss, unable to take being separated from him anymore. You move your lips against his and you can feel his smile as he moves to position himself on top of you, not even needing to break the kiss. Your limbs tangle with his, and you run your hands through his tousled curls, wanting to just let your hands touch every part of him that he would let you. He rests on hand on the back of your neck, while he uses the other to keep himself from putting all of his weight on you.

“You’re bewitching,” he says softly, as he pulls away from your lips to leave a trail of kisses and bites down your neck and collar bone. “Your beauty is unmatched by anything these tired eyes have ever witnessed,” he praises, as his hands move to slide nimbly under the fabric of your shirt.

He plans to take his time, to completely worship every part of your body and vocalize in every way how beautiful you are and how much he cares for you. His moments are slow, and sensual, making you feel like complete putty in his hands. He wants to savor absolutely every part of this shared moment. For so long has he dreamed about this, and so far, everything about you- your noises, your soft skin, all so much better than he ever envisioned. His calloused hands savor every inch of you they graze, committing how every part of you feels to his memory.

His moustache and stubble leave goosebumps behind on every part of your skin he kisses. He leaves a trail of marks behind that with time will definitely darken into small bruises, evidence he can gaze upon tomorrow to remind him this all was not just a dream. In his head, he pleads with his maker that if this is a dream may he please never wake up and suspend him in this sleep state forever. A small price to pay to have you entangled in his arms.

“I love you,” he repeats over and over as he kisses down your body, pressing kisses to every inch he can see and touch, just like he’s wanted to for so long in these strenuous months. His movements are gently, and you moan softly at the sensation of his knuckles grazing your skin as he pulls your shorts and underwear down your legs, leaving you know completely bare in front of him.

“I want to spend the rest of my days between these thighs,” he mumbles, pressing kisses to your inner thighs and his hands grab them and pull them apart gently. Like a man starved, his tongue works skillfully, giving you so much attention. Your hands tangle in his hair, and he sucks on your clit, making you cry out in pleasure. He loves the reactions he can elicit from you and he loves the taste of you. You’re as touched starved as he is and he wants nothing more than to stay between your legs for hours as you moan praises, and shudder under his touch. You back arches and you can’t help but squirm at the sensations, but he holds your legs gently, keeping you in place. The first time he brings you to orgasm is by his tongue, and you can taste yourself on his lips when he finally comes up for air.

You can’t even think of anything to say to reciprocate his words, your mind is hazy and you’re overcome with the feeling. He doesn’t seem to mind, and the look on his face almost proves how proud he is to be the one who’s the cause of your current state. He’s just so wrapped up in how your body is responding to his every move, he doesn’t care you’re completely speechless. The feeling of it all was just too much to try to attempt vocalizing coherent thoughts.

When he finally pushes himself inside you, it completely takes your breath away. He makes sure to go slow, taking his time and letting you adjust. He also needs to steady himself, because the feeling of you wrapped around him is incredible. It’s perfect, and he wants to take his time, but your so tight and feel so good, and it’s been so long since he’s experienced such an intimacy.

“You’re perfect,” you moan softly at the feeling of how he stretches you.

The compliments that fall from your lips, go right to his head, inflating his ego. His kisses become more frantic, and passionate. His hands shamelessly wander the length of your body, groping at the flesh, wanting to just worship every part of you, to just touch every part of you. His rhythm is slow at first, not wanting to cause you any discomfort, but you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in closer and his mind is frenzied at the sensation. His movements become much more sporadic, chasing his relief as you cry out how close you are as your face rests in the crook of his neck, leaving kisses and bites on his neck, leaving your own marks on him like you were returning the favor.

“Cum inside me, Ezra,” you whisper, nibbling his ear and he groans hearing something only in his dreams manifest in the flesh. “It’s safe.”

He bites his lip and you tug gently on the ends of his hair, a moaning mess under him. The way your face contorts when you orgasm for the second time and the sensation of your release is the final sensation that triggers his own. He collapses on top of you, resting his face in the crook of your neck, whispering again how perfect you are before pulling out and rolling over to lay beside you.

You both are breathing heavily, glistening with sweat and feeling euphoric after coming down from the high. Your chests rise and fall as you both work to catch your breath before either of you speak. It’s a comfortable silence, both of you trying to recover. He looks over to you, and you match his gaze. You roll over onto your stomach and rest your head on his chest, taking a few moments before cleaning up. You rest your arm across his torso and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

Here, in the depths of this dangerous planet, you felt safe in his arms. The excruciatingly long days of physical labor, chasing after promises of riches feel fruitless now more than ever, because the best thing you ever found in the Green had been right next to you the entire time.

General Taglist:

@sassy-kassaay​

@letsfly-andbe-free

[iceeckos12]

and he sees dawn before the rest of the world

or: a fucked up little au of 200. intended to be unsettling so just be warned warnings for: unreality (i think that’s the appropriate term? please lmk if not), implied self harm, fucked up relationship dynamics; lmk if i should tag anything else

Bzzzt! Bzzzt! Bzzzt!

“Ugh, five more minutes,” Martin hissed, throwing an arm across his face, as though he could stop the barrage of sound just by covering his eyes. His alarm was unsympathetic to his whinging, continuing to scream its daily mourning dirge, grieving the end of another period of blessed rest. “Fine, fine! I’m getting up, christ…”

He reached clumsily for the phone on his bedside table, only for his fingers to scrabble uselessly around the ghost of its presence. He was momentarily so stymied by the absence that it took him longer than it should’ve to remember that he’d moved it to his desk, to prevent him from giving into the temptation to hit the snooze button just one more time.

Letting out another slew of curses, Martin shuffled onto his other side and reached for

A jaw-cracking yawn near split Martin’s face in two as he hunched over the gleaming tea kettle, steam beginning to pour from the spout. He shuffled his feet, eyes meandering sightlessly over the cow-shaped mug drying on the counter, the cluster of crumbs that he must’ve missed when cleaning up after dinner last night.

He hated mornings. Maybe it was the preemptive dread he felt at the thought of going to work; maybe it was because he hated having to be upright this early in the morning. Either way, he felt strangely disconnected from his morning routine, each motion carried out with habitual, distant efficiency as his thoughts raced along like a hamster on a wheel just below the surface.

It...was a bit silly for him to be worried about work, though. The stuff he was doing was interesting, and he had the loveliest coworkers a guy could ask for. They’d even offered to teach him a thing or two about artifact restoration once they learned the truth about his CV.

He drew himself up to his full height and rolled his shoulders back, clouded sigh mingling with the fog from the boiling water. Things were going well. Hell, he was actually going to get top surgery sometime in the next year or so, which was amazing considering his teenage self would’ve laughed at the very idea of being out.

There was no reason to dread going to work.

Martin carefully poured the water into the mug, letting the tea steep before adding a splash of milk and sugar. When he picked the mug up, the heat from the tea had bled into the ceramic, so warm as to be uncomfortable against the delicate skin of his palms. He didn’t let go, just kept on gripping the mug, like trying to contain the last gasp of a dying star.

Martin stared around his kitchen. The waterstains on the inside of the cow mug slowly evaporating into the still air; the crumbs that had sat there for who knows how long. The empty, blank face of his fridge.

Martin lifted the mug, and steam collected on his glasses as his breath wafted over the surface of the tea. He drew away, waiting for the lenses to clear, before leaning in for another sip.

His reflection stared back at him, a monochrome facsimile of his face rimmed in white smoke, and he recoiled, the mug slipping from

Working nine to five, what a way to make a living…

Martin stared out the window, his hand pillowed in the palm of his hand as Dolly Parton crooned in his ears. Split second by split second, he let his eyes catch on a point in the darkened surroundings, only letting his vision blur into incoherence when that fixed point whipped out of sight. It was a game he sometimes played when he got bored of reading or playing cards on his phone.

The old woman across from him let out a quiet grunt and shuffled, drawing his attention back inside the train. She was a gnarled old thing, bowed by the gravity of grief and time and life, though Martin couldn’t say for certain whether it was one well-lived.

Barely getting by, it’s all taking and no giving...

That was the thing about people watching: Martin was never quite sure if it was disrespectful to make assumptions about a person’s life based on a passing glimpse. He could never be sure if the person with the grumpy expression had a foul attitude, or if they were just a kind person on the tail-end of a truly awful day.

The old woman was knitting though, and Martin generally found it safe to assume that knitters were nice people.

For a moment he thought about taking out his headphones and striking up a conversation; the pattern looked devilishly complicated, and as a beginning knitter, he always appreciated tips. There was an unfinished set of fingerless green gloves in the back of his closet; it was easy for hands to get cold in the Archives, and the color suited

“Alright, Martin?”

Martin startled, his pen clattering to the floor. He looked up to find Sasha perched on the edge of his desk, grinning like the cat who’d just eaten the canary. Or, he thought she was. His eyes kept skittering from one corner of her face to the other, like a smooth stone skipping across a lake.

“Uh…” Frowning slightly, he let his gaze travel over the shelves of books, the humming lights, his cluttered workstation. He removed his glasses so he could rub at his aching eyes, and let out a deep sigh. Probably just the stress. “Yeah—yeah! Sorry, I’ve been distracted all morning.”

Martin got the impression of Sasha’s grin being tempered with genuine concern. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is everything okay?”

“I think so. Just...work, and my mum…” he gave an expansive you know sort of gesture at life in general. “Thank god the weekend’s coming. Anyway, is there something I can help you with?”

“Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to come get drinks with Mel and Tim and I after work, but…” She cut him a meaningful glance, the bottomless holes where her eyes should be boring bright spotlights into the back of his skull. “We’d understand if you’re not feeling up to it.”

“Is Georgie coming?”

Sasha shrugged. “Probably. Mel didn’t say so, but they’ve been all over each other since they started dating.”

Martin laughed. “True.” Tried to gauge how he was feeling, whether or not he was up to a night of socializing. You should go, a strangely posh little voice murmured in the back of his head, and he found himself saying, “Actually yeah, I would like to come. I could use a night out.”

Sasha clapped him on the shoulder, and the impact rattled through him like a gong being struck. The echoes of it vibrated all the way down to his toes. “Excellent.”

Martin hesitated, and then, not entirely sure of what he was asking, “What about J

“Thanks for waiting with us,” Georgie said, smiling beatifically up at him. Passed out on her shoulder, Melanie let out a drunken snuffle and curled over, like she was thinking of climbing through the spaces of Georgie’s ribcage and sleeping in her chest cavity forever.

“Not a problem,” Martin replied, scratching the back of his neck.

To be honest, waiting with her was as much for his benefit as theirs. At first, he’d thought it was just stress; now, he was very sure that something was wrong. It wasn’t anything specific, or even bad; more like there was a sepia camera filter tinting the world dusty and nostalgic.

After his third drink, he’d looked into Tim’s laughing face and thought he might burst into tears. And he still didn’t know what Sasha was supposed to look like.

But he didn’t want to worry her, so he just bit his lip and rocked back and forth on his heels, even though the motion made his head spin that much worse.

(Maybe he needed to take a couple of days off. Have a lie-in. But that would—that would delay his work. The Institute’s work. Delays were bad; he felt strongly enough about that to carve it directly into his skin so that he’d never forget. He could roll down his sleeve and take a peek at it whenever his motivation slipped, like checking a watch for the time.)

For lack of anything else to say, he nodded toward Melanie. “She’s really out, huh?”

“She’s always been a lightweight.” Her tone was wry, but her eyes were soft and fond as she brushed Melanie’s bangs back from her face. “Never gets hungover though, the lucky bastard.”

“The nerve!” Martin said, affecting offense, which sent them right into another giggling fit.

Once he got his breath back, Martin mentioned offhand, “You know, considering how similar they are, I’m surprised that her and J̷̧̱̜͕͕̤͉̣̺̺̝͖̠̹̜͙̣͉̩̺̤̟͉͓̞̹̗́̆̂̋͆̊̎́͂̑͋̌͊͘̚͠ͅo̶̧̨͕̖͔̬̖̝̪͚̻̟̠̜̣̰̅n̶̥̉́̎͑̀͂͆̿̾͛̾̔̐͌́̅̂͂̒̆̐́͊̄̾̍̅̅͝

“Stop it!” Martin screamed, grabbing the mug from the counter and throwing it across the room. It shattered against the wall, scattering shards of ceramic across the floor. “I know

“What you’re doing,” Martin gripped the bathroom counter, ignoring the persistent ringing of his alarm, staring deeply into his reflection, “Stop it, stop it, nononon̴̡̡͚̮̠͙̻͔͎͈̜̓̈́̈́͜͜ͅǫ̸̯̠̱̖̲͙͍͎͒̇̑͒ṅ̶̨̩̳̩̝̹̳͎͈̬̦͆́̈́́͐̏̈́̕͝͝o̸̡̻̱̗̥̮̙̳̞͗̄͋̈́̀͝n̸̢̛̟͙̘̱̩͕̦̫̤̮͆͑̊͋́̂̽͜o̶̘̱̗̘̘͑̿͜ņ̶̥̞̠͕͓̠͔͚̮͈̬͕̀͗̄̓͑͑͛̕ͅő̸̮̫̓͌̾̌͋́̂̏̒̃̃̄̚n̵̗̫͕̺̻͔̭͖̉͒͗̀̈́̃̅o̴͓͉͉͗͋̎̕—”

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m sorry, it’s okay—”

“No!” Martin shrieked, shoving Jon’s hands away, skittering backward across the broken and cracked stones of the Panopticon. Through the arched windows, the sky was a poisonous green and black, and multitudes of eyes orbited the room, watched his every movement with sickening fascination. “Just—stop.”

Luminous gaze weary and resigned, Jon did as he was bid, dropping back onto his heels.

Rubbing sweat and grime and tears from his face, breathing harshly through his mouth, Martin took a moment to remember where he was, why he was here. It always took a moment for everything to come back.

As though unable to keep silent any longer, Jon asked, “So what was it this time?”

“Don’t,” Martin hissed, dragging his hands through his greasy hair.

Though his expression went mulishly annoyed, Jon raised his hands placatingly, a silent, alright, you win. It was a familiar gesture, one that he’d done so many times while they were living in Scotland, while they were traveling the devastated landscape of the apocalypse. It made Martin ache for when things were simpler, when his heart didn’t just feel like one big bruise.

He gently set the thought aside, and turned a more assessing eye on the Panopticon. Normally the changes were insignificant, but something thick and red and black had started to coil around the windows, weaving in and out of the floor, cracking the stonework. Martin traced the strange things with his eyes, frowning—

“Christ, Jon,” he whispered in horrified realization. “Are...are those corpse roots?”

Jon bobbed his head. “They’ve long since overtaken the rest of London. It’s just us, now.”

Martin sucked in a long, frustrated breath through his teeth. There was no point trying to talk any sense into Jon, not after so long, and force would only result in immediately getting kicked back into that horrible dream world.

“And the others?”

Jon shrugged, tracing the cracks in the earth with his fingers. “Still alive, and living happily in the dream I made for them.” He didn’t say, unlike you, but the implication was so loud he might as well have screamed it.

“Shut up,” Martin muttered, pushing to his feet and limping to one of the windows.

Corpse roots, as far as the eye could see. They covered the city of London in a blanket of tangled black, so thick that it was impossible to see the buildings beneath.

“Was it worth it?” he asked, sagging against the side of the window, too tired to be angry.

When the silence persisted a second too long, Martin turned around to find Jon with his head tilted back, examining the corpse roots consuming what had once been the Beholding’s seat of power, expression distant and thoughtful. The eyes, ever-watching, never understanding, drifted closer, greedily drinking in the sight.

When Martin realized that Jon wasn’t planning on answering, he let out another sigh, ruffled his bangs away from his face, and said, “You’re never there.”

Jon’s gaze snapped to him with a laser-edged focus. “Sorry?”

“If you’re going to trap me in a dream,” Martin said, each syllable clipped and precise, “You could at least be there.”

Like it always did, Jon’s face crumpled, and he looked away. “...I don’t deserve it.”

“Oh, we’re well past that and you know it!” Martin shrieked, striking his fist against the stone. “You made your fucking decision to damn the world, to hell with whatever we thought, the least you could do is stop hiding behind your pointless guilt and act like this is what you actually want!”

It would’ve been better, if Jon had simply become drunk with power and was no longer listening to reason. The fact that he’d made this same decision every single day with clear, unclouded eyes and sound judgement—as Jon the human, rather than Jon the lynchpin of the apocalypse, pupil of the Eye—made Martin want to scream.

“I do want it!” Jon snapped back, then quieter, “I do.” He looked up at the corpse roots again, eyes going misty. “I just—I should witness every second of misery and pain that I’m causing. I don’t deserve to just...forget.”

Wind snapped and howled around them like a creature mad with rage, and Martin idly wondered what would happen to this world once Jon died. If it would all go back to the way it had been before, or if the shell of the apocalypse would remain until the end of time, a corpse husk of a reality warped beyond repair.

“You shouldn’t have to experience this alongside me though,” Jon continued, rallying. “So I would really appreciate it if you’d stop breaking your dreams.”

“Tough,” Martin snapped back, folding his arms obstinately over his chest.

“You could be happy!” Jon reiterated, stabbing his index finger into the palm of his hand. “You could just...live your life! Forget! There’s no point in being here.”

“It’s a deal, remember? Where you go, I go. Fuck you very much, but I don’t break my promises.”

Jon stared at him for one beat, then another—and then promptly burst out laughing, his whole body shaking with the force of it. Martin stared at him, utterly bewildered, as the laughing slowly began to dissolve into desperate, heaving sobs, as he began rocking back and forth, arms wrapped around himself in a mockery of comfort.

“I miss you,” Jon gasped out, half-crazed. “So much. I miss you every day even though you’re right in front of me. But I can’t go to you, because I don’t deserve to, not when I’m the one who trapped you here. I’m everything that’s wrong with the world. I always have been.”

“Jon,” Martin sighed, low and tired.

Jon buried his face into his knees. “No, you shouldn’t—you shouldn’t forgive me just because you pity me, that’s not what I—I don’t—”

“Who said anything about forgiveness?” Martin shook his head. “Fine. You’re an asshole, and I hate you. But it’s like I said.” He gestured toward the Panopticon, the roots, the poisonous sky. “When has deserving ever mattered?”

Jon lifted his face from his knees, though his gaze stayed rooted to the floor. “...I suppose.”

“Right,” Martin agreed. “I’ve accepted that you’re not going to change your mind, but...at the very least, I don’t want to die alone. So can you please just…”

There was a long, weighted pause.

They’d had arguments like this what felt like hundreds of times before. Martin begging for Jon to change his mind, Jon refusing with that same resigned, determined expression on his face, before sending Martin back into his dreams.

Maybe it was because Martin wasn’t asking him to change his mind this time. Maybe it was because they were so close to the end of all things, and soon they’d be the last two people on earth. Maybe it was because Jon was tired, had been for so, so long, and he had won anyway, so there was no point in fighting any longer.

“Alright,” Jon whispered.

…

…

...

Bzzzt! Bzzzt! Bzzzt!

“Ugh, five more minutes,” Martin hissed, throwing an arm across his face.

Somewhere in the far distance, the toilet flushed. A moment later, a pair of feet padded lightly into the room, hesitated at the edge of the bed, and then made their way over to the desk. The alarm abruptly went silent.

Martin uncovered his eyes and grinned up at Jon as he tentatively slid back between the covers, every movement careful and deliberate, like he was reading stage directions from a script.

“Look at Mr. Workaholic, having a lie-in,” Martin teased, pulling Jon into his arms and inhaling the scent of his coconut shampoo. “Must be the end of the world, or something.”

Jon stiffened for just a moment, before turning around and burying his face into Martin’s chest. “Or something.”

[drabbles-mc]

Take A Little Ride

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Request from @bishopslosawife​: What if one of the Mayans’ S/O was an NFR professional barrel rider from the south? Like S/O plans a trail ride for everyone to get them to relax and someone recognizes her and asks her to show off her moves? Maybe S/O has a horse boarding at the stable?

Warnings: language

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: (Sorry if this is the second time you’re seeing this fic! I’ve had some issues with posts disappearing from my blog and the tags and I’m trying to get everything back on track haha.) I know we talked about this fic forever ago, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since lol. We threw around a lot of ideas and I tried to fit as many into this fic as possible without it feeling cluttered. Also, I know this is technically an Angel fic, but we get to see a lot of our boys in this story. Hope you enjoy! xo

Angel Taglist: @mayans-sauce​ @encounterthepast​ @helli4nthus​ @lilacyennefer​ @angelreyesgirl​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @starrynite7114​ @rosieposie0624​ @queenbeered​ @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ @sincerelyasomebody​ @mijop​ @sadeyesgf​ @xladymacbethx​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @blessedboo​ @appropriate-writers-name​ @holl2712​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @sillygoose6969​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @louisianalady​ @gemini0410​ @paintballkid711​ @chibsytelford​ @yourwonkywriter​ @sesamepancakes​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @georgiaaintnopeach​  @plentyoffandoms @twistnet​ @themoonandthewicked​ @garbinge​ @bucky-iss-bae​ @enjoy-the-destruction​

“Oh come on,” you pleaded as you sat in Angel’s lap, “It would be so fun!”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “Yea, for you maybe. I’d have no fuckin’ clue what to do.”

“It’s really not that hard,” you reassured him.

EZ sat down across from the two of you, “What is Angel fighting you about now?” he smirked.

You laughed, “I was saying that we should go for a trail ride sometime soon—all of us. It’s such a good way to unwind.”

“What’s the issue then?” he was clearly confused.

“She means a horseback trail ride, Boy Scout,” Angel piped in with a shake of his head before returning his gaze to you, “Anyone besides you and Taza even know how to ride?”

You paused, trying to think back on your conversations with everyone. Truthfully, now that he said it out loud, you couldn’t say for certain if any of the guys knew how to ride. You didn’t want to cop to that, but you weren’t a good liar, “I have no idea,” you chuckled, “I mean for some reason I wanna say that at one point Riz said something to me about it but I’m not sure. You guys could learn, though! It’s not like we’d be competing or anything, just a nice mellow trip. Like a hike! Besides, it’d be good for you boys to learn something new.”

“Y/N,” Angel started, “I’m not gonna fu—”

EZ cut him off, “I’m game,” he was genuinely interested, but he also loved being a little bit of an instigator when it came to things like this between you and Angel.

Your eyes lit up, “Yea?”

“Bro,” Angel shook his head, “What the fuck?”

“Put it to a vote!” you said excitedly, “That’s what y’all do, right?”

EZ laughed, nodding, “Yea, that’s exactly what we do.”

“What, we gonna go to Templo for this?” it was getting more and more difficult for Angel to keep a straight face.

“We’ll do it right here,” you leaned forward and grabbed your empty beer bottle off the table, rapping it on the wooden surface a few times to get everyone’s attention, “Hey! Boys! I have an offer for ya.”

If Angel had the ability to melt into the couch cushions, he would’ve. The guys could see the look on his face and it only made them more interested in what you were going to say. EZ was sitting back with a smug grin, extremely invested in where this was all going to go.

“What’s the offer?” Taza asked with a soft smile.

“So,” you got up off Angel’s lap, “I know y’all have had a rough couple of weeks. And I think it’d be good for everyone to get out and unwind,” they were all nodding along in agreement so far, “I just so happen to know of a really great ranch about forty minutes North of here. What would you guys say to a day trip and a trail ride? Switch things up a little.”

Taza’s response was immediate, “Sounds good to me.”

You could see the apprehension on some of their faces, so you tried to reassure them, “If you don’t know how to ride, they give you a rundown of the basics. Plus, the horses that they have there are all push-button—absolute gems.”

“How do you know about this place?” Bishop couldn’t help but to ask.

“I’ve been boarding my horse there since I moved to Cali,” you paused, “So, what d’you say?”

Sure enough, everyone started to speak up in agreement. You had never felt so excited. You looked back at Angel, who was shaking his head trying not to crack a smile. He had a feeling it was going to go this way.

“Majority vote,” Bishop said with a laugh, “It passes.”

“Yay!” you clapped, “Alright, I’ll call and get it all set up for this week. It’s gonna be so much fun, trust me.”

As the week passed by, Angel and a few of the other guys asked you questions about just what exactly they had gotten themselves into. They all knew that you rode, but they never thought it would have any crossover with their lives.

You all met up at the clubhouse late Saturday morning. You had your jeans and boots on, along with a tank top. You’d packed a backpack with water bottles and a few snacks, as well as your riding helmet. There was a palpable sense of excitement in the air, along with nervousness.

“You guys might not wanna take the bikes,” you warned with a laugh, “Your legs might be a little sore afterwards.”

They all stood and thought about it for a moment before deciding to take your word for it. They split up and piled into the few trucks they had, allowing you to lead the way since none of them knew where you were going. It was one of the very few times that Angel ever rode shotgun and let you take the wheel. You’d seen EZ crack a smile as his brother begrudgingly handed you the keys.

You rolled into your parking spot at the ranch, instantly jumping out of the truck once it was in park. The rest of the guys weren’t far behind, their vehicles falling into line with yours. You waited for them all and then waved for them to follow you as you confidently strode across the grounds to the barns. A few of the other people there smiled and waved to you, recognizing you from your frequent trips there.

The man who ran the ranch came out of one of the barns, arms out wide as he approached you, “Y/N, so good to see you,” he gave you a hug, “I was excited when they told me about your call.”

“Who’s this fuckin’ guy?” Angel murmured to EZ under his breath, elbowing him when he saw his brother trying to bite back a laugh.

You hadn’t heard the exchange, but you turned around to introduce everyone regardless, “Boys, this is Matthew—owner of this fine establishment and also one of the first people to help me settle in when I moved here to California. Matthew, this is my crew,” you laughed, “Best group of troublemakers you’ll ever meet.”

He laughed, nodding in acknowledgment, “Gentlemen, it’s a pleasure. I’m here to help and get you guys up and running, but you’re in good hands with Y/N here. She knows the trails out here like the back of her hand.”

“Well,” you chuckled, “I wasn’t gonna say it, but he’s totally right,” you clapped, “Let’s get you boys all saddled up and ready to go!”

It was refreshing to see them a little out of their element, with the exception of Taza, and surprisingly enough Coco seemed rather comfortable in the barn. You didn’t comment on it, wanting to see just how much he knew. But so far he had gotten all his tack on without much of an issue, and he seemed really comfortable with the horse they had provided for him.

You went back and forth with the guys about wearing helmets. Angel was adamant that he would be fine without one, “You’re not even gonna wear one! Or Taza!”

You laughed, “And when you’ve clocked as many hours as we have, you won’t have to wear one either. But for now, you’re gonna have to. Deal with it.”

“Yea,” EZ chuckled as he clipped his on, “Gotta save all the braincells that you can.”

“Shut up,” Angel shoved him as they both broke down in laughter.

Your horse was waiting patiently in her stall, all tacked up and ready to go. You were thankful that she was so mellow and patient, because you didn’t have to worry about her while you got everyone else situated. Up until that point, you had never realized just how diverse the ranch was when it came to breeds of horses. Most of them were rescues in some capacity, bought at auction when they weren’t competition or breeding material anymore, but they still made great companions, especially for beginners.

The fact that Taza let the boys struggle on their own a bit wasn’t lost on you. He was already perched atop his horse, waiting for the rest of them to get their acts together. You were certain that it was the most entertained that he had been in a while—you could see it in his eyes. To make up for the lack of Taza’s guidance, you were running around helping however you could.

“C’mon,” Coco taunted as he hoisted himself up onto his horse with ease, “What’s takin’ you guys so long?”

“Since when do you know anything about horses?” Angel said with a hint of bitterness to his voice.

“Psh, you don’t know everything about me, ‘mano. Don’t worry about it.”

Once everyone was on and ready to go, you finally went back to bring your own horse out. She was waiting patiently as ever in her stall. You slid the door open and stepped inside, gently resting your forehead against hers. It was exciting to be able to share this part of your life with all of them, even if it was going to be a little extra chaotic the first time around. You hoped, though, that they would enjoy it enough to want to come back and do it again. You thought that it would be good for them, because it certainly was for you.

You led your horse out of the barn, not that you really needed to be holding onto her reins anyway—she’d follow you wherever you went almost without question. You had her stop so you could slip your foot into your stirrup and hoist yourself onto her. The guys looked on in slight awe, not able to believe that it was so easy for someone of your height to climb up that easily onto a horse that was so tall.

Once you were situated in your stirrups and adjusted your backpack, you turned and looked around at your crew with a wide smile on your face, “Everyone feel like they sorta know what they’re doing? Matthew give you an overview of the basics?” there were various mumbled of agreement as they nodded their heads and you had to laugh, “You’ll be fine. Just remember, gentle on the reins—it’s attached to their mouths. Squeeze with your legs and nudge with your heels if you wanna go faster. These horses are super well trained so you shouldn’t need to kick, or be loud with them at all. Just use a clear voice,” you paused, “We should probably do a couple laps around the arena first before I take you guys off-roading,” you laughed, “Follow me.”

Admittedly, you were pretty impressed at how well the guys were picking it up. A lot of it had to do with the horses that they were riding, but still. It was the first time you could ever remember Bishop seeming out of his element and you had to admit that you found it amusing. Angel and Gilly found themselves struggling together while EZ practically rode laps around them, of course.

“Show-off,” Angel said with a laugh and a shake of his head as he shifted slightly in his saddle.

“You’re just mad because I’m already good,” EZ chuckled as he made his way over to where you and Taza were watching the rest of them.

Once you started making your way towards the trail, you and Coco found yourselves side by side. You glanced over at him and had to smile at how comfortable he seemed. For a man who seemed to be a little jumpy at baseline, he seemed really calm.

“I have to admit,” you said as you glanced back to make sure you didn’t lose anyone yet, “you surprised me a little bit with all of this,” you gestured to him and the horse.

He laughed, “Yea, I’m full of fuckin’ surprises.”

“You ride for a long time?”

He shrugged, “Not in a while. Started when I finished my four years. One of the guys who came back with me told me to try out equine therapy. Seemed kinda pointless but I really wasn’t in a position to be sayin’ no to anything—I was pretty fucked up. And it helped. Stopped when I started getting in with the club.”

You nodded, unable to hide how invested you were in everything that he was telling you, “Got it. That why the guys didn’t know?”

“Yea. Plus, they don’t gotta know everything,” he chuckled.

The topic fell by the wayside as the group of you continued on your little adventure. It was peaceful, and it was nice to hear all of them laughing and joking around with each other. You felt like you were constantly turning around to make sure that you hadn’t lost track of anyone, but you really didn’t mind it. It was hard to not be a little amused at how out of sorts Angel still seemed. The downside of being as tall and lanky as he was, is that it’s impossible to miss when he is feeling uncomfortable or out of his comfort zone. It was written all over his body language.

You looped around so you could land yourself next to him. You smiled over at him as he focused intensely on his reins, “Still getting the hang of it?”

“You guys make it look so easy.”

You laughed, “We’ve got years of practice. You’ll pick it up.”

“Gilly wants to know why he’s the only one that didn’t get a horse,” Angel laughed.

You chuckled and shook your head, “Mules are great, he’s got nothing to complain about. They’re strong, and smart, and a little stubborn but that’s just like the rest of you guys so it should be fine.”

“I know I’m not good at this shit,” he shifted slightly in his saddle, “and I dunno if I ever will be. But it’s nice to see you enjoying yourself like this. I don’t think I’ve ever really seen you like this.”

You smiled, feeling your face get warm, “Well, now you know,” you paused, laughing, “Plus I think this is one of the only times that I’ve been better than you at something.”

“Couldn’t let it be a sweet moment, could you?”

You chuckled, “Is this how you feel all the time with me?”

“I’m not better than you at everything, querida. Stop bein’ dramatic,” he smiled.

“Cooking and horseback riding are the two things I definitely have over you. And I’m holding onto those for dear life,” you laughed.

“I’ll let you have them. Just for you, I promise I won’t get any better at this.”

“For me?” you pressed a hand to your chest with a smile, “You’re too sweet.”

You nudged your horse onward so you could get back to the front of the pack. You’d ridden the trails hundreds of times but they never got any less beautiful. They were different than where you used to ride back home but the change was nice. The trail that you had taken them on was one of the easier ones—no crazy inclines or anything like that. It was a slow but steady ride up one of the smaller peaks that surrounded the ranch. The view from the top was beautiful—you could see for miles. You had a feeling that the guys were going to love it.

“We’re almost to the top,” you called back over your shoulder.

Within a few minutes, the whole group of you had made it to the clearing at the top of the peak. They were all letting out their own murmurs of approval and you felt so proud of yourself. A few of them hopped down, wanting to get a little closer to the cliff edge so they could look down over it. There was nothing but the sound of the breeze and the screaming of the birds while you all stayed there and took in the view. It was the most peace that they’d probably felt in a while.

“Pretty great, right?” you looked over at Angel, who had managed to guide his horse to they were right next to you.

He nodded, “Beautiful. Had no idea any of this was out here.”

“This is what I used to do with pretty much all of my free time when I first moved here, back before I really knew anyone.”

“You gave this shit up to hang out with us?” Angel chuckled as he gestured to the rest of the guys.

You laughed, shaking your head, “I didn’t give it up. I still come out here at least once every weekend, if not more during the week if work allows for it. I still make the time.”

“I love you,” he had a starry look in his eyes as he gazed over at you.

You smiled, “I love you too. Thanks for doing this—I know you weren’t really all that thrilled about it.”

“I’m glad I did. It’s nice to see something that means so much to you.”

After a few more minutes of lingering, chatting, and getting photos of everyone, it was time to complete the loop and head back towards the ranch. You were glad that the guys had pacified you and allowed you to do a little impromptu photoshoot of them with their horses—it was a moment that you wanted to remember. They were quite the diverse pack and you couldn’t help but to smile.

The ride back down was smooth. It was evident that for the most part, the guys were starting to feel more comfortable in their saddles. There weren’t as many, “oh fuck’s” said under their breath. There was a little more talking and joking going on and it made your heart feel fuller.

Cutting through the quietness of the trail was Angel’s voice, “Shit, fuck, oh fuck,” he wasn’t yelling but you could tell that he was worried.

You whipped your head around to see what was wrong, and you had to bite back your laughter as you watched the scene that was playing out. Angel’s horse had bumped up from a walk to a jog and clearly it wasn’t Angel’s doing. The panic that was on his face was priceless. Realistically, the horse wasn’t even going that fast, but it was enough to send Angel into panic mode.

“I’m just gonna fuckin’ jump off.”

You laughed, “Do not jump off. Just apply a little pressure to the reins and tell him to walk. He should slow right down. They don’t understand curse words.”

He did as you instructed, and sure enough the horse dropped right back down to a leisurely walk. You were trying not to laugh but the rest of the guys weren’t as kind and forgiving as you. You knew that that was going to be something that he wasn’t going to be living down anytime soon.

The rest of the descent was uneventful. The whole squad made it back down to the base of the trail unscathed. You hopped down off your horse and began to help all of them to do the same. You told them where to go and put all of their tack once they took it off, and also told them that if they could walk their horses for a couple minutes just to help cool them down it would be appreciated. It wasn’t the most intensive ride but it would still be good for them. Besides, it would be good for the guys and their legs too.

You were getting ready to bring your horse in when a girl came walking up to you, trying to politely get your attention. She couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen. Her t-shirt and jeans were streaked with dirt but there was a giant smile on her face as she walked up to you and your horse.

“Hi, excuse me, are you Y/N?” her voice was quiet, shy.

You nodded, slightly confused, “I am. Everything alright?”

“Yea! I just, um, god sorry I don’t mean to be weird. I used to watch you race, though. I went to almost every NFR circuit event for a few years back when we still lived in Nevada. They said you moved but I had no idea it was here and I,” she stopped herself, “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

You shook your head, smiling, “Don’t be sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever had a fan before,” you laughed.

“Well that’s not true,” the girl laughed. She paused for a few moments, “Would it…would it be weird to ask if I could see you do a run?”

You raised your eyebrows, “A barrel run?”

She nodded excitedly, “Yea.”

You laughed, “I mean, I don’t see why not. I’m a little out of practice but I think we can still manage it,” you patted your horse on the shoulder.

“Oh my god this is so cool. The big arena inside is already set up—I just finished my lesson.”

The two of you walked together, your horse following behind without you having to hold too tightly on the reins. You listened to her gush and talk about riding and it made you miss what it felt like to be training for competitions. You didn’t regret stepping back from it to live the life that you have now, but there was nothing quite like that rush of adrenaline.

The guys had heard the entire interaction and all of them had since gotten their own horses situated so they could come and see what was about to happen. EZ and Angel were leaning against the side of the arena, their voices carrying in the echo chamber it created.

“You know she used to compete?” EZ asked as he watched you hop back up onto your horse.

“Yea, I mean, she mentioned it,” Angle replied, “Didn’t know that she was a fuckin’ celebrity, though.”

“Paparazzi is gonna show up any minute,” Bishop materialized next to them, chiming in with a laugh.

You settled into your saddle, getting both you and your horse positioned so that you could start your run. You could tell that she felt the shift in energy as the two of you stood at the entrance to the arena. You could feel her starting to get a little antsy, a little wound up. It had been a long time since you ran the pattern, but you had no doubt that it would be like riding a bike for the two of you.

As soon as you nudged her with the heel of your boot, your horse took off. You couldn’t stop the laughter that erupted out of you as she flew around the first barrel, gliding seamlessly into the turn. You could faintly hear the guys from the sideline over the sound of the wind in your ears. You felt your hat fly off your head and you didn’t even care. You’d almost forgotten how fun it was to neck-rein at that high of a speed.

You looped around the second barrel, and the third, and your horse all but flew down the center of the pattern as she ran out of the arena. You sat back in your saddle, trying to get her to slow down but you didn’t really want her to. It had to have felt just as good for her as it did for you—the two of you hadn’t done more than a light canter in a while and she was clearly itching to get out some pent-up energy.

Finally she slowed to a walk as you turned her around to head back towards the arena. The young girl came running out of the building with a huge smile on her face, your hat hanging from her fingertips.

“That was so cool!” she handed your hat back to you.

You hopped down off your horse with a smile, “That was the most fun I’ve had in a while, I can’t lie,” you laughed, “I’m glad you asked us to run it—that felt amazing.”

“Do you board here?” she looked at you expectantly.

You nodded, “I sure do. Here every weekend, pretty much. Not that we’re really training to compete anymore, but you know.”

“If we’re ever here at the same time do you think that you could give me some pointers?”

You nodded, feeling your heart swell inside your chest, “Absolutely.”

“Yes! Oh that’s so awesome. Thank you so much. I’ll, um, I’ll let you get back to your friends. But thank you so much.”

You smiled, “Of course. I’ll see you around.”

She bounded off, an excited spring to her step. You chuckled and shook your head as you started to lead your horse back to the barn so you could take off her saddle and bridle. As the two of you meandered, Angel and the guys all came out of the arena, looks of surprise all over their faces.

“What the fuck was that, querida?” Angel laughed as he shook his head in disbelief.

“What?” you feigned ignorance.

“When were we gonna find out that you know how to do all that?” EZ piped up.

“I told you guys that I ride!”

“That,” Angel threw his arm around your shoulder, “was not just riding. That was insane! You guys were fucking flying.”

“Shoulda seen how fast we could go when we were actually training for it.”

“Also, didn’t know that you were apparently a celebrity,” there was a smirk on his face as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

You laughed and shook your head, “Not a celebrity. The horse world is a small one.”

“You gonna be able to teach us how to do all that?” EZ asked with a laugh.

“Not a fucking chance,” you smiled over at him, “But you guys are more than welcome to come here with me any time.”

“Well now we definitely have to,” Angel said, “Gotta see what other moves you’re holding out on.”

“Oh,” you laughed, “you’ll see. Don’t worry.”

[biggest-stupidhead]

Bad Timing (Levi x Reader) Part 8

Summary: how do you tell your friends that you’re falling for your big brothers’ best friend?

Word Count: 4.8K

__

You woke up late the next morning, having forgotten to plug in your phone which also functioned as your alarm. Instead Hange had busted into your room and ripped the blankets off of you, exposing you to the chilly air. You yelped and reached blindly for the covers, your mind too foggy with sleep to comprehend how late you were.

"Rise and shine sleeping beauty." Hange sang as she jostled your shoulder.

"Wha..."

"School starts in like thirty minutes come on bust a move." That woke you up. You tossed your legs over the edge and stumbled around your room, pulling on a pair of joggers and a large t shirt. Hange had left once she was sure that you were awake, leaving you alone to get ready. You didn't bother with make up, not that you ever really did. You double checked that you had all of your supplies for school before zipping up your bag and meandered down the steps. Erwin and Hange were already pulling on their shoes by the door, Erwin was wrapping one of his scarves around Hange's neck. You scrunched your nose in disgust at their outright display of affection and shoved your feet into a pair of old sneakers.

The three of you exited the house, and made a beeline for Erwin's minivan which had been heating up to melt off the frost and snow. The drive was slow and cold, the van was dated so no matter how early Erwin woke up to heat up the car for you, it would always be colder than the Arctic. Erwin also drove like a god damn grandpa in the winter due to the icy roads which didn't help. Finally you made it to school with only five minutes before the bell rang, you bolted into the building, you were in such a hurry that you didn't bother to stomp the snow off your feet as you entered. Which was a mistake because in your hast you lost your footing on the already slick floor, you yelped as you fell flat on your ass. You blinked as you tried to comprehend what had just happened, you were brought back to the present by the sound of boisterous laughter. You turned to glare at Connie and Sasha who where standing to the left munching on a bag of hot cheetos.

"You should've seen the look on your face!" Connie howled as he slapped his thigh. Sasha giggled and nodded as she wiped cheeto dust on Connie's white shirt while he wasn't watching. You rolled your eyes as you picked yourself up off the floor, you ignored them and pushed forward down the hall. Sasha and Connie trailed after you since they had the same first class as you, making jokes as they went.

"You know they really should put out those yellow signs, you know the ones with the person falling?" Sasha joked loudly.

"Yeah I know what you mean, then we could print out a picture of (Y/n)'s face and then stick it on the sign." Connie quipped which lead to the two of them dissolving into another fit of laughter. You ducked into the class room as the minute bell rang weaving through the desks to get to your seat. Armin watched you with wide eyes as you pulled your things out for chem, after your desk was covered in notebooks and pens you topped it off with your phone, which was still dead. The bell rang and then Sasha and Connie staggered in, your teacher shook her head and marked them tardy once again.

"Did you get my text last night?" Armin asked, eyeing your phone on your desk.

"Aw no Armin I'm sorry, I didn't charge it last night so it's dead." you apologized as you attempted to organize your cluttered desk. Armin smiled sweetly and nodded,

"It's all good! I was just wondering what your schedule for this week was and if you wanted to study together again?" Armin explained as he pushed his pencil across his desktop.

"I'd love to study, Geometry is kicking my ass right now." you moaned, the thought of your math class made your stomach heavy with dread.

"I can help you with that if you can help me with poem for English." Armin said softly, his blue eyes sparkling with a playful glint. You rolled your eyes you knew that Armin wouldn't need your help with any of his classes, he was just trying to make you feel smarter.

"Whatever you want baby doll." Armin's face flushed at the pet name that you used for him, you had recently started calling him the nickname due to his doll like features. He averted his gaze to the board where the teacher had written a warm up question on the board to get class started. Instead of working on the problem like a good student, you decided to use the first five minutes of class time to revive your dead phone. You plugged your charger into your laptop and then plugged your phone into the charger, once you saw the tiny lightning bolt you turned your attention to the board.

__

Chemistry went by uncharacteristically fast, the teacher kept the class busy with a lecture as well as a rowdy game of kahoot in preparation for your midterm. You had no time to check your phone, so it wasn't until you were walking through the hallway with Mikasa and Sasha that you noticed that Levi had responded. According to your phone, he had responded only fifteen minutes after you sent the initial message.

"My bathroom schedule is none of your concern."

You smiled at your phone, it may not seem like he was pleased with your text but you knew better. You had come to appreciate Levi's own weird way of showing that he cared, it had been no small feat either. So you decided to interpret his response as "don't worry I'm fine." you shoved your phone back into your pocket and continued to push through the throng of students in the hall. Sasha walked a few paces in front of Mikasa and you, swinging her lunchbox and humming along to whatever song was playing through her ear buds. Mikasa tugged her scarf up over her nose as you passed Eren who waved vaguely in your direction. Your eyes roamed over Mikasa's form, she had recently switched her aesthetic a bit, changing her wardrobe to a more soft goth mixed with grunge.

Today she wore a green plaid skirt with a belt cinched tightly around her thin waist. She had selected a black turtleneck that clung to her curves with a thick silver necklace with a heart pendant. And of course she wore her red scarf around her neck. You had to admit that it suited her, she looked hot as hell. Sasha on the other hand often dressed in a more causal manner. Today the brunette wore a pair of baggy jeans that hung off her hips, only staying in place because of the shoe lace that she had tied around her waist to function as a belt. Despite the cold weather Sasha wore a tiny pink cami with cute little strawberries on it, she also wore a light pink cardigan over the cami, presumably to prevent herself from being dress coded. Seeing how cute your friends had dressed made you feel embarrassed, you frowned down at your sweatpants and your t shirt that had an ugly bleach stain on the front. You'd do better tomorrow, you thought to yourself as you and Mikasa followed Sasha to your next class, which was World History.

The three of you arrived just in time, not that it mattered anyway. The history teachers always took their time on Mondays, spending a minimum of at least twenty minutes in the hall chatting about sports. You took your seats in the back of the room, surprisingly Connie and Jean were already seated and arguing quietly.

"-I don't know that's a bit sus but hey I won't judge." Connie retorted, crossing his arms and averting his gaze while Jean glared at him.

"What are you guys talking about?" Sasha interrupted as she dropped into her seat next to Connie. Jean's cheeks flushed as he hardened his glare on Connie who waved Sasha off.

"Oh nothing" Connie winked at Jean who eyed the pair suspiciously, knowing that neither one could keep a secret.

"Aw ok then." Sasha looked a bit disappointed as she dropped her huge lunchbox down on the desk.

"Got anything good in there?" Jean sighed, eager to change the subject.

"Duh you dummy." Sasha scoffed as she opened the bag and began pawing through it's contents.

"Let me rephrase that: Got anything to spare? I have practice tonight and I didn't pack any snacks." Jean exasperated as he pointed to the lung box. Sasha paused and pursed her lips in thought while Connie poorly covered his laughter.

"Hmmm what's in it for me?" Sasha hummed thoughtfully as she pulled out a variety of granola bars and fanned them in front of her face tauntingly.

"I'm giving you the chance to be a good friend that should be enough!" Jean fumed with his eyes locked on the bars. You watched the pair go back in forth as they bartered for the snacks until they finally settled that Jean would be the designated driver for the party this weekend. You watched as Jean stuffed a handful of granola bars in his soccer bag and Sasha opened up another bag of hot cheetos. You giggled and turned to gauge Mikasa's reaction, she had a small smile on her full lips as she jotted down some notes.

"Speaking of parties, where is the party this weekend?" You asked as you pulled your own notebook out to take some notes. Connie cocked his head, his thin eyebrows furrowing as he stared at you.

"Your house I thought." Connie remarked as he drummed his pencil against the desk.

"Oh, I wasn't really planning on hosting but..."

"No Connie it's at Marco's remember?" Jean stated as he rolled his eyes.

"My bad." Connie chuckled.

"Well still I don't think I was invited so I wouldn't want to impose." you admitted.

"Nonsense! Marco would love to have you over." Sasha assured you as she once again wiped her hand on Connie's sleeve.

"Yeah Marco wouldn't mind if you tagged along." Connie shrugged, not even noticing that Sasha had left a bright red stain on his sleeve from the cheeto dust. You noticed that Jean looked a bit uncomfortable, the tips of his ears turning a bit pink. Strange, maybe something happened between the two of them.

"I don't know guys, I really wouldn't want to take advantage of the guy, he seems really nice and I wouldn't want him to think badly of me." you sighed, thinking about the sweet freckled barista.

"I'll ask him, don't worry about it!" Connie waved you off before he turned back to his work. You nodded, deciding to throw in the towel with this argument.

____

After history, you went your separate ways with your friends and went to your next class. English was easy enough, your teacher was an older woman who also doubled as the theater director. This meant that she would often assign some busy work at the beginning of the period and turn you loose so she could make preparations for the next production. So once you finished the assignment for today's class you allowed yourself some time on your phone. Levi's message remained unanswered as you ran through all the possible replies. Everything that you thought of didn't seem to fit so you decided to leave it unanswered until you could think of something good.

__

Levi tapped his foot impatiently as he watched Farlan and Isabel fumbled around the small flat. Farlan was rooting through a bin filled with shoes searching for his loafers. Isabel was standing in front of a small mirror holding up two different pairs of earrings up to her head to see which best matched her outfit. Finally they both found what they were looking for, Farlan slid on his brown loafters and Isabel fastened her hoops to her ears and then they were off. The streets of Paris were dusted in about a foot of snow, which Farlan bitched about due to his poor choice of footwear.

"Can we please call an uber? My toes are going to fall off!" Farlan complained as he shook snow out of his shoes. Isabel giggled and tossed her scarf over her shoulder.

"I like the snow." her green eyes sparkled playfully as she teased the older boy.

"So do I but that doesn't mean I want it between my god damn toes." Farlan hissed as he lifted his other foot to shake out more snow. Levi watched the pair bicker with a certain fondness in his gaze. They had been his first friends and for a time his only family. After his mother died, he was sent to live in an orphanage where he met the odd pair. Even if he was only in the orphanage for two years, he still had come to love the idiots. Thankfully they never lost touch, Farlan had turned 18 in July so he now had custody of Isabel and rented a flat for the both of them. Isabel was still only 16 so technically Farlan was her legal guardian, and so far he seemed to be doing a good job.

"What do you think Levi, should we call an uber?" Isabel asked, bumping her shoulder into Levi's to grab his attention.

"We're already almost there." Levi deadpanned as the three of them meandered down the sidewalk. The city was surprisingly busy for a Monday evening, couples walked with arms linked, families were window shopping, and students sat perched on barstools as they drank coffee while they typed away on laptops. Levi couldn't remember much about Paris, at least not this side of the city. He had grown up in the north-eastern district, which was known to be poorer than the central district or southern district. Farlan had managed to get a job at a law firm as an assistant which had allowed him to move himself and Isabel to the central district. Of course Kenny sent Farlan and Isabel a monthly allowance to keep their heads above water, but it was mostly Farlan who had scrounged the money together to move the pair.

"Then it's settled! We'll walk!" Isabel whooped as she skipped ahead of the two boys. Farlan groaned and shot Levi a disappointed look.

"Don't look at me like that, you're the idiot that wore loafers." Levi scolded.

"I hate how you're always right." Farlan chuckled. The trio walked the rest of the way to the restaurant in relative silence. Thankfully the walk wasn't too long, they sat themselves in a booth. A waiter came and took their orders, Levi was slightly taken aback when Farlan ordered a bottle of wine, but he quickly remembered that the legal drinking age in France was 18. The waiter left them to put in their order, Levi took the moment of peace to check his phone. A hand full of texts from Hange, a meme from Erwin, and.... no response from you.

He frowned as he stared at his own response, looking back at it he wasn't sure how she could respond to that. He mentally kicked himself, for the first time in your odd relationship you showed an interest in him and all he was doing was pushing you away. Levi was so deeply engrossed in his thoughts that he failed to notice that the waiter had already brought them their drinks. Isabel tapped her straw on the table a few times to rip the paper, once the tip of the straw was exposed she lifted the straw to her lips and blew. The paper shot off the straw and hit Levi square in the chin. Farlan snorted and spat his wine back into his glass so he could laugh at Levi's exasperated expression. Isabel howled with laughter, she banged her hand on the table dramatically as Levi frowned at the two of them unimpressed.

"How old are you?" Levi ridiculed as he stooped to pick up the scrap piece of paper. He balled the trash up and set it down on the table top. Farlan sighed as he finally managed to quell his laughter.

"Someone has to keep you humble Levi." Farlan teased as he took another sip of wine. Levi reached for the bottle and poured himself a glass, Isabel was drinking a root beer loudly through her straw. Levi sat his phone down on the table as he gave his friends his undivided attention. Isabel told him about her job at a doggy day care where she cleaned kennels and watched dogs. Farlan told him about his superiors and how they told him he would make a good lawyer one day. Levi felt a huge sense of relief as he listened to his friends, he was glad that the two of them were finally making a living for themselves. Levi was politely listening to Farlan rant about one of his annoying coworkers when he noticed that Isabel had grown uncharacteristically quiet. His heart dropped when he saw that Isabel had his phone and was frowning at the screen. Farlan followed his gaze and grew quiet as well.

"Isabel what do you think you are doing?" Levi enunciated each word, his tone dripping with venom. Isabel looked up at him, her cheeks tinged pink when she realized that she had been caught.

"Your phone was open and I saw her text..." Isabel trailed off as she turned to show Farlan. Levi slapped his palm over his face and sighed deeply. Farlan whistled lowly as he read the text.

"Shot her down real quick didn't you Levi." Farlan chuckled as he took another sip of wine. Levi frowned, another wave of guilt washing over him.

"Didn't mean to." he mumbled as he lifted his glass to his lips. Isabel had already set his phone down and favored her own phone, her eyes were scanning over the screen quickly as she scrolled through her phone. A few minutes of silence passed before Isabel showed Levi her screen, she had pulled up your instagram.

"This her?" she questioned, Levi only gave her a curt nod as he finished off the wine in his glass.

"Aw Levi's she's adorable!" Isabel gushed as she scrolled through your page, pausing on one of your more popular posts. A series of pictures of you on a beach towel wearing large sunglasses and a huge sun hat, the quality was amazing. He was sure that Armin took the photo, the kid had a knack for photography.

"Damn if you don't want her I'll take her." Farlan hummed as he looked over Isabels shoulder. Levi shot Farlan a disapproving glare.

"What's her number?" Farlan pressed, Isabel choked on her drink as she burst out laughing.

"Forget about it." Levi hissed as he snatched his phone off the table top.

"I'm just teasing you Levi." Farlan waved his hand dismissively as he poured another glass of wine. Levi rolled his eyes and let out a grunt, his own version of acknowledging Farlan's good natured jokes.

"You should call her." Isabel mused as she chewed on her food. Levi furrowed his brows, what would he even say to you? It's not like the two of you casually conversed, he usually only called you if Erwin couldn't reach you, which rarely happened. He glanced at his watch and frowned, if it was eight o'clock here that meant it was about two back home. Therefore you were still in school so he would have to wait until later.

"That's a dumb idea." Levi monotoned, Isabel rolled her eyes dramatically.

"No it's not, even if you're just her friend I'm sure she would like to know that she's on your mind!" Isabel insisted enthusiastically, Farlan nodded in agreement as he shoveled a forkful of pasta into his mouth.

"She's right you know-" Farlan paused as he swallowed his mouthful of food, "not everyone can handle your cold demeanor as well as others." Farlan chided as he lifted another bite to his lips.

"Fine I'll call her." Levi caved in as he stabbed his fork into his salad. Isabel squealed in excitement.

"This is great Big-bro! I'm so proud of you!" she gushed, her eyes glimmering with adoration. Levi couldn't resist reaching across the table and ruffling her hair affectionately. Dinner ended without any more noteworthy events, Farlan and Levi split the check and then bundled back up to walk back to the flat.

___

You sat at your dining room table staring hopelessly at your geometry homework. A bowl of cold soup sat untouched, you had been too stressed to eat dinner, a habit that you had recently picked up. Erwin and Hange had made dinner so you could get straight to work, which had been very sweet, but you felt guilty because truthfully you had barely made a dent in your assignment. You thought about calling Armin, he would help you. No you couldn't bother him, he was probably doing work of his own.

So you suffered in silence, the shapes and numbers spinning in your brain the longer you stared at the page. With a frustrated sigh you flipped the page only to see more blank problems that needed to be done. You stood up intending to stretch your legs and take a brain break. After you'd walked around the island in your kitchen three times you came back to the table and dropped down into the chair. You cracked your knuckles before clutching your pencil in a death grip and began to attempt one of the questions. As you scribbled on the page, attempting to make sense of the numbers and letters, you pressed too hard on your pencil and snapped the lead. You watched the tiny piece of lead roll across the page, out of spite you swiped your hand over the page to wipe the lead off.

Your eyes widened at the large smudge that now marred your paper. It all started with a single tear, it rolled down your cheek and splashed onto your paper. Before you could really understand why, you were absolutely bawling your eyes out at the dining room table. Was it because you were frustrated with school? Yeah that was definitely part of the reason. Before you could spiral into a dark pit of self deprecation, you were rudely interrupted by your phone ringing. You squinted through your bleary eyes to see that it was already 10:30 pm. You sighed, not really caring who was on the other end of the line you answered the phone.

"What" you blurted, not really in the mood to talk.

"..."

"Well? I'm kind of in the middle of something right now." your voice quivered as you fought back tears .

"Is...this a bad time?" your heart dropped at the sound of Levi's smooth voice.

"Uh" you sniffled and wiped your eyes.

"No it's not I can talk, what's the matter Levi?" you asked as you continued to wipe your eyes.

"Are you sure?" Levi probed, you nodded despite the fact that he couldn't see you. You stood up and began to pace around the kitchen once more.

"Y-Yeah-" you hiccuped and cringed, Levi sighed on the other end of the line.

"(Y/n) be honest with me....are you drunk?" Levi interrogated, you gasped it was a Monday night! Did he really think that you were that much of an alcoholic?

"No! I just...."

"Hm? What is it?" Levi quipped clearly enjoying your frazzled state.

"If you must know, I was in the middle of a mental break down." you admitted with a heavy sigh. Levi went silent on the other line, you were beginning to regret your honesty.

"It's only Monday." Levi cringed at his less than empathetic response.

"Yeah you're telling me." you chuckled, Levi immediately relaxed at the sound of your laughter even if it wasn't as bubbly as it usually was.

"What's bothering you?" Levi asked, surprisingly softly. You furrowed your brows surely he didn't call you just to hear about your day? He was probably just being nice.

"Oh uh... just school I guess." you paused your pacing to drop onto the sofa and kick your feet up onto the coffee table.

"I see." Levi mused as he reclined in the armchair he was seated in.

"Anyway, enough about me, why did you call me? Is there something you need?" you asked, you were sure that he didn't want to hear you complain about geometry.

"It's fine, tell me about your day." Levi grimaced, tell me about your day? Who was he your mother?

"O-Okay. Well I guess it was fine up until I tried to do this stupid geometry." you grumbled, the mere thought of your homework making your stomach sick with dread.

"Geometry?" Levi hummed, crossing his leg so his ankle was over his knee.

"Yeah." you sighed dejectedly, waiting for his scathing remark about how stupid you were.

"That one can be tough." Levi huffed, you could hear him re-situate so you waited to respond. Once you were sure he was settled you inhaled sharply to prepare yourself.

"It's just not clicking for me." you groaned, Levi snorted and once again you could hear some shuffling.

"Want some help?" he asked. You blinked slowly, not fully processing his words.

"Help?"

"Take it or leave it."

"I would be an idiot to decline."

______

"That wasn't so bad was it?" Levi asked, a playful glint in his grey eyes.

"It was awful, but I'm grateful for the help." you sighed, resting your head on the table. You'd been on the phone with Levi for almost two hours now. After he had offered to lend you a hand you had switched to facetime so he could see the problems. Levi tapped his pen on the counter top he was sitting at. Yeah you heard that right, Levi does math with a fucking pen like a psychopath.

"Anytime." his lip twitched upwards ever so slightly.

"God, I'm sorry that all we talked about was fucking math." you apologized.

"It's fine really. " Levi shrugged once again tapping his pen on the counter.

"Tell me about Paris? How are things on the other side of the pond?" you joked, finally able to genuinely smile now that the stress of your homework was lessened.

"First off, never say 'pond' again. Second, it's cold as a witch's tit over here." Levi enunciated each point by tapping the pen against the counter.

"Really? Is there snow over there?" You asked, suddenly very invested in the weather in France.

"Yeah there's a fuck ton." Levi stood up and brought his phone with him to a window. You could tell that he was on a high floor, you could see the lights of the city through the flurries of snow.

"Woah, it's so pretty!" you gushed as you admired Levi's view.

"Tch, I guess." Levi clicked his tongue as he flipped the camera back onto his face.

"Hey what time is it there?" you yawned.

"Six am." Levi deadpanned.

"What!! Why did you let me keep you up so late Levi! My god go to bed." you huffed incredulously. Levi rolled his eyes as he listened to you lecture him on the importance of a good nights rest.

"I mean seriously Levi no wonder why you're always so grumpy." you finished your rant as you closed your bedroom door and began pulling out a pair of flannel pj pants and a large hoodie since your room seemed to be particularly chilly. You dropped your phone onto your bed (camera down obviously) and began to change into your pjs.

"Don't worry about it sweetheart." Levi drawled, his voice a bit muffled by your comforter. Once you picked up the phone you dropped down onto your bed and sighed.

"Seriously, I'm just adjusting to the time change." Levi shrugged, he was now in his own room, also laying on the bed a pale morning glow seeping into the room.

"Uh huh sure." you teased, a smile spreading across your lips. After a moment of silence you decided that it was time to call it a night.

"Well, unlike you I need my beauty sleep." you said groggily.

"Good luck with that." Levi scoffed, his own voice a bit scratchy.

"Thanks again Levi. Goodnight or erm, Good morning I guess." you giggled as you watched Levi try to cover up a yawn.

"Yeah yeah whatever." He scoffed, you waved as you hung up. You rolled over and plugged your phone in, having learned from your past mistake. You sighed contently as you snuggled beneath the covers, your head filled with thoughts of geometry and Levi.