#Advanced Delivery Date

[magecomp]

Magento 2 Advanced Delivery Date Extension

[deikshen]

The Omega Shen Yuan who reached his 35s single and without future views of a couple, accepting that promise he made with his (not) best friend Shang Qinghua that if they reach 35 years old single, and are still friends, they will have a baby together.

Shang Qinghua is an Alpha, and okay, he's not too good a match for Shen Yuan, but from the years he's known him, he thinks he can be a good father. And although they could spend money on assisted fertilization, it's a tedious process so, err, they do it traditionally.

They wait for Shen Yuan to come into heat, Shen Yuan goes off his birth control weeks in advance, things happen. The less said about it the better. It's for the greater good or something. Shen Yuan only hopes that one heat will be enough, because genuinely repeating it is not in his most enthusiastic plans (although he appreciates the company and comfort of his best friend).

And about two weeks later, Shen Yuan meets Luo Binghe.

Luo Binghe is absolutely great, of course. He works in a small restaurant and his dishes are delicious. Shen Yuan and he become fast friends; Shen Yuan has a delicate palate, Luo Binghe's cooking is exquisite, and his company is pleasant. He's funny in a dark sort of way, strong, beautiful as a young model, with a strange amount of hobbies like martial arts, collecting jewelry that he doesn't wear... Luo Binghe is wealthy but doesn't spend on nonsense, which makes Shen Yuan theorizes that he was not always someone well-positioned in society. He finds himself going to his restaurant almost every day even though he could order delivery just for Luo Binghe's company.

And Luo Binghe starts flirting with him.

It's... At first, it's strange. Shen Yuan doesn't want to believe it. Shang Qinghua URGES him to open his eyes because FUCK THAT PRETTY BOY IS FLIRTING WITH YOU. Shen Yuan tries to flirt awkwardly, according to himself it doesn't go well, but Luo Binghe seems to fall quickly. They go on a date that ends with a sweet first kiss.

So, they're on their third date going to a movie theater, when Shen Yuan smells popcorn and nausea hits him so suddenly that he barely makes it to the bathroom.

As he finishes disposing of his lunch in the wc, with teary eyes and Luo Binghe rubbing his back, he suddenly thinks: it's been almost two months already. Oh fuck.

The date is cancelled, Luo Binghe accompanies him to his apartment and they say goodbye. Luo Binghe promises to come back as soon as Shen Yuan calls him, giving him privacy with a worried expression. Shen Yuan just stammers having eaten something bad and lets Luo Binghe leave with his heart in his mouth.

He then calls Shang Qinghua at least thirty times and places orders at a pharmacy for five different pregnancy tests. The tests arrive before Shang Qinghua. When Shang Qinghua arrives, upset and worried but with a fresh scent of an omega that Shen Yuan does not know, all five tests come positive.

... They have no idea what they're going to do with it.

Two months ago, they literally... weren't dating. They had nothing but an agreement to start a family if the opportunity came. So as not to lose the experience for the sake of time. Because they both wanted. Now, Shen Yuan thinks he might really be falling in love with Luo Binghe... And Shang Qinghua literally just dumped an omega in his bed!! What the hell are they going to do now!?

Shen Yuan wants that baby. No matter what, he wants this family. So, they decide: they will go on a double date with their current partners, and explain the situation to them. They can agree whether to leave or stay.

... Shen Yuan doesn't expect Luo Binghe and Mobei Jun to meet each other. He also doesn't expect the omega Mobei Jun to be the tallest man he's ever seen. He doesn't expect them both to look a little upset, but to decide to support their partners in that. The road to fatherhood. God, they must be so screwed.

They make a good deal: for the baby's first years they will practically share a house, Shen Yuan can afford to rent or buy something bigger. So, the baby will grow up with his parents together to help and educate them. From the third, fourth year, they will be able to move and will share equal custody, and both of them will be able to see the baby at any time, it's not like they were divorced with a legal agreement or something. Not a bad plan.

Shen Yuan wants to consider himself mature about this. He's going to be a father, he's having a baby, he has to take control of the matter.

Now, he has no idea how he is going to position Luo Binghe (and Mobei Jun) in his life, because it seems that Luo Binghe is planning to stay so much that he is already planning the decoration of the baby's room... with Mobei Jun who insists that the color blue is unisex if you don't give a fuck.

Ah. Well, he has a pack, of sorts. His baby, him, his boyfriend, his baby's father, his baby's father's boyfriend. All families come in different shapes and sizes, don't they?

[mulloey]

finally i found someone who does nsfw reqs - or just haven't seen other writers, but whatever - some yangyang headcons with little shy n vulnerable reader would really ease my mind rn, thank u so much in advance !

a few ways of keeping you

warnings: dom/sub dynamics specified in the request. very deep and deliberate subspace, very slight little dynamics if you really really squint, but it’s more in the sense that you like to feel small and cared for and he babies you and calls you little/little girl etc., emotional elements of dom/sub relationships, mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, body image issues, insecurity. nsfw: oral (f.receiving), bondage, dumbification, punishment, spanking, overstimulation. this is a fairly intense power exchange within a dom/sub dynamic. it won’t be for everyone and hate is blocked.

author’s note: i’m not entirely sure this is what you were wanting as it’s quite a vague request, but i did my best. i don’t like the short bullet point headcanon format so i fleshed it out a bit more while still exploring different elements of the relationship. requests open & feedback appreciated.

—

never in his life has he seen something so sweet.

it’s a cold, miserable day in december when you first encounter him; the whole city is covered in snow, sidewalks wet and icy beneath your feet and you almost stumble on your way to your favourite cafe. you just want a hot cocoa and a grilled cheese, and then you’ll go home and stay there until the weather eases up a bit. you really hate the cold. but this cafe doesn’t do home delivery and their food is the only one that manages to taste exactly like home.

you’re shivering when you push open the door, burying your head in your thick scarf and shuffling over to the counter. they’re familiar with your order by now, and once you’ve paid you trudge over to your favourite seat, against the wall in the corner, and start removing your wet, snow-covered outerwear.

you don’t realise you’re being watched until someone sits down beside you. you open your mouth to tell them to go away when you meet their eyes and your words are caught in your throat.

it’s a man around your age, maybe a few years older, handsome and smiling, and he’s looking at you like you’re something precious.

“hi,” he smiles. “i’m yangyang.”

it’s been over a year since that day, and almost a year since you started dating him. you’d shied away from it at first; you’d never really done that sort of thing and you had no intention of starting to. he persisted but never pressured you, just happy to be in your presence. only when you’d woken up from a nightmare one night and found yourself calling his name into the darkness did you realise that maybe he could be what you needed all along. and when he picked up your call on the second ring, showing up to your apartment ten minutes later and watching movies on the couch with you until you fell asleep, you knew for certain.

there’s a lot you love about yangyang; his smile, his laugh, the small gifts he brings you when he comes home from tour. even his yelling and loud laughter when he’s gaming with his friends, which ordinarily would frighten you, is somehow endearing.

but the best thing about yangyang is the way he cares for you.

it wasn’t something you ever discussed; he just fell into the role naturally. even on that first day you met, when he helped you peel off your wet coat and insisted on giving you his dry one, something about the way he spoke, acted, looked at you, made you feel cared for and looked after in a way you never really had before. he was patient and gentle with you from the very beginning and you quickly felt at ease, even confident, in his presence. and that is something he will never take for granted. even if it is a lot to bear sometimes, he couldn’t have it any other way.

0 - duty of care

since he met you he’s felt a sense responsibility for you that he’s never experienced before. he felt bound and compelled to protect you from everything and everyone what might cause you harm—even yourself and it became his life’s mission to see it through.

you hadn’t realised how much you needed what he was offering until you finally accepted it; until you finally but reluctantly put down your shields and barriers you’d built to keep yourself safe and let him in people, and completely. and you knew instantly and unquestionably that this, that he, was what would finally complete you.

his care for you manifests in different ways; holding your hand when you go, ordering for you in cafes and restaurants, keeping you next to him; a tether between the two of you that binds you together. then there’s the emotional side; when you panic and fret and he talks you down with a low, calm voice and a firm hand on your skin; when you’re wracked with insecurity and he spends the whole night showing you why you shouldn’t be; when he picks apart all the problems that to you seem insurmountable, until they’re small and digestible enough that they don’t really seem to be problems at all. he knows your brain far better than you; knows how to pick apart and mould it how he wishes but he would never think to take advantage of it. everything he does is for you.

his role with you differs depending on your needs that day; sometimes it’s nurturing, parental, others it’s punishing and authoritative. sometimes you just need a friend to listen and nod along as you try to pull apart all the pressure in your head.

and sometimes, of course, you need to be fucked.

1 - love and comfort

not even he can keep you happy and comfortable all the time, though. like everyone you have your own problems and struggles and you’ve never been very good at dealing with them or even admitting their existence. he takes them from you when he can, bearing as much of the burden as you’ll allow him to, but sometimes it’s not enough. sometimes you break. and sometimes, you can’t. not on your own.

the days when he comes home to find you in a heap on the floor, or feels the tension in your body and sees you beginning to cave under the pressure of it, are the ones most important. to be the one to pick you up or bring you to safety, to soothe and protect you from it all, is a privilege.

sometimes you want to be rocked; to be held and caressed and cooed at like a fragile creature who knows nothing except him. you want him to feed you by hand, to wash you while you lie limp against his chest in the bath, to tell you it’s all okay.

but sometimes it’s not enough. sometimes, when you’re on the verge of shattering but unable to let go completely, you need to be taken apart by hand. you need to be completely broken, and reset and rearranged as he decides. you need to surrender everything to him—whether you like it or not.

that’s how he finds you today. you’re curled up in bed when he trudges in after practice, head buried in the pillow, shaking and sobbing but not crying. no tears. when you finally notice his presence next to you he has no time to think before you’re launching yourself into his arms and wrapping yourself around him. “yangyang,” you gasp. “please. turn it off.”

he sees the gears turn in your head, knows what you mean; you need the thoughts to stop. you need the cracks to pull apart completely and come undone at the seams. and you need him to do it. now.

“what do you want me to do, hm?” his voice is soft but his grip on you is tightening protectively and painfully. “need me to break you?”

“yeah,” you breath. “just—anything, yang. anything.”

“yeah?” he croons. “want yangyang to decide? you don’t want to make any decisions, do you? s’too much for your little brain.”

he feels you tense in his arms, breath hitching and his lips curl into a knowing smile. he can recognise the signs with ease now; the silent indicators that you’re finally going under. it used to be difficult, it used to be a battle despite how much you both wanted it, but now it’s as simple as his hands on your skin and soft, crooning whispers of how small and dumb and helpless you are. how much you need him.

“that’s it,” he mumbles against your hair, feeling you start to relax, tension subsiding and you sink into it. “go dumb for me, baby, s’alright. i’ll never hurt you.”

a lie, technically, but you know what he means.

sometimes he gets you so far under that you barely remember what happened when you come back up; only the faint memory of his hands, his teeth and pleasure that came in waves. the loss of control of even your own recollections is thrilling.

of course, you like when you remember it, too. when he’s away at work or on tour and you get to fuck yourself to the memory of red-hot strikes against your skin; the snap of folded leather in his hands, the bite of hardwood floor against your bare shins, the burning humiliation of being talked down to while you squirm and whine under his touch. you’re lucky he allows you to touch yourself without him—all you have to do is send him the video and tell him exactly what you thought about.

no one cares for you like yangyang, and that includes the ways he breaks you. everything is strategic; every word, every movement designed to hit you just deeply enough to hurt in the moment but not deep enough to linger beyond it. there’s no point breaking you down if there’s nothing to build back up again when he’s finished.

dominance is a fine art, especially with you. even now, after all this time, he’s still learning the best ways to care for you, the best ways to maintain and exercise the control you’ve handed to him. but even he must admit, he wields his power with expert precision.

it doesn’t scare him when you cry anymore; he knows when it’s coming and how to coax it out of you; he knows the way you cry when you’re getting exactly what you needed and the way you cry when something is wrong. he knows what to do in the latter case but he always manages to keep it in the former; certainly he makes mistakes, pushes you too far on occasion, but he always stops it. from your body, your face, your voice, he knows when he’s gone too far long before you do.

his hands are always soft on you afterwards. always tender and careful once the destruction ends and the rebuilding begins. he holds you close to him, letting you cry or scream or whatever you need to do to work through the flood of emotions he’s finally forced out of you. he runs his hands across your red, swollen skin, treating the welts that are particularly painful and, rarely, deep enough to cut you. he feeds you by hand, bathes you by hand, keeps you tight against his chest as you fall asleep in his warmth.

he’d do anything for you. anything. unfortunately, sometimes it’s not so pleasant.

2 - a guiding hand

he set the rules early on in your relationship. you had suggested it with a shy, anxious tone and reddened cheeks. “i want you to… control me more,” you’d squeaked.

he’d been eager to agree, and the rules were simple by design. they had to be for your little brain to compute them.

be safe. be healthy, be good. be honest.

but even the simplest of rules can be difficult to adhere to. especially to someone like you. and that’s when he has to be firmer, to put his foot down and lay down the law in a way you’ll understand no matter how far you’ve slipped.

he’s always careful about it and he always times it right. it’s not always immediate; sometimes you’re just not in a space to fully comprehend the lesson he’s trying to teach. at that point, a few smacks to your ass, nothing procedural or clinical, is enough to settle you until you’re ready to be properly disciplined.

when you are ready, you know well by now what to do. all he needs to do is sit down on the bed or sofa or chair, pat his thigh and mutter “over, honey”, and you’re clamouring to obey no matter how much you don’t want to. honestly, you like it more when you don’t want to do it; it makes it more real. you’re not excited or aroused and neither is he. there’s no thrill or game to be found here. you must learn, and he must teach you.

you know he wants you, and you bend your body over one of his knees so your ass is in the air. he bares it without a word, tugging down your pants or shorts and inching down your panties to the middle of your thighs. the cold air on your ass always makes you shiver and he waits for you to relax before beginning.

he’ll tell you what he’s going to do. he’ll tell you why, and you’ll repeat it back to him in a small, scared voice. the first hit will come. he’ll tell you to count.

sometimes you only need ten to learn your lesson; other times it takes so long that you eventually stop counting and just feel the weight of his palm against you. sometimes your safeword dances on your tongue, but you never say it. you never need to.

he’s always extra tender with you afterwards, but his voice is still firm when he asks you if you’re going to repeat your mistake. he always softens, though, when you smile through tears and shake your head softly. “never, yangie.”

well. not for a while, at least.

3 - pleasure and worship

the first time you had sex with yangyang, you’d been clumsy and unsure of yourself. you were determined to be sexy for him, seeing all the girls he interacted with at work and wanting to be as good as them, but you felt ridiculous in the black lace, like you were too big for your skin, stupid and unsexual. you’d intended to surprise him when he got home from work, waiting prettily on the couch for him, but when you looked in the mirror and saw the way it clung to you in all the wrong ways, you couldn’t get it off quick enough.

i mean, you literally couldn’t. because the door opened just as you reached to unhook the bra, and your boyfriend was standing there with an open mouth.

“i—” you tried to think of an explanation or an excuse but nothing came. you’d just have to face up to it; confront the shame and embarrassment head on.

“baby,” he breathed. “you look incredible.”

only after the second time he made you cum with his mouth did you really believe it.

yangyang lives and breathes to pleasure you, cherishes every inch of your skin; even—especially—the parts you wish wouldn’t away. of course nothing is better than fucking you, than the feeling of your tight pussy clinging to his dick as he slams into you over and over. but pleasuring you with his mouth or toys or fingers until you’re near delirium is a very close second.

he knows just how to talk to you, just how to act to get and keep you where you want to be. the sex you have when you’re deep in your headspace and the sex you have outwith it aren’t quite the same, but the common factor is always there; he’s relentless, he’s hungry and he’s really, really good.

“you’re so little, aren’t you?” he coos, pumping his fingers in and out of you. his palm is sticky with cream and your pussy squelches and squeals with each movement. you’re barely conscious at this point, but you can take more. you will take more. “you’re so dumb, baby. can’t even think once you’re got a couple fingers in you, can you?”

“no,” you gasp. “c-can’t, yangyang.”

you’re writhing and thrashing but the soft, fur-lined leather restraints keep you where he wants you. still, sometimes he slaps your thigh or your pussy and barks at you to ‘stay still’, but it’s more for his amusement than anything else. truth is, you can move as much you want, but you’re done when he decides. you can’t go anywhere.

“i know,” he hums. “taking it so good. you’re gonna cum again for me, alright? just one more, baby, i know you can do it.”

“yeah.” you shudder, closing your eyes and trying to get lost in the pleasure, in the pressure that builds in your gut as he fucks you open. “can do it. i can do it.”

“you can,” he smiles. the pace quickens and he presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh. “go one, baby. make me proud. cum.”

your composure breaks in an instant and your body is writhing and seizing like you’re about to die. you go limp, collapsing with gasped breaths and he kisses your painful, swollen pussy.

“that’s my girl.”

his girl. his baby. and you always will be.

[lowryuk]

Behind Her Back.

Pairing: BSF’s Boyfriend!Eren x Toxic!F!Reader, slight Jean x F!Reader

Word Count: 11K

Summary: Your best friend's boyfriend seems to have caught feelings for you. Too bad you don't reciprocate.

A/N: Hiiii!! I apologize in advance for this messy fic lmao. I still think it's a bit cringy but I can't let go of 11K words so I revised it as best as I could. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! As always, if you have questions, feedback or want additional h.c, my inbox is always open:) I hope you enjoy <3

(Warnings are below undercut)

Warning(s): rough sex, jealous!eren, toxic!reader, cheating, angst, oral (69 with jean specifically), sex in the woods, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, light choking, semi public sex, squirting, oral (m receiving)

The cafeteria is buzzing with noise. The hum of casual conversations, the sharp clatter of trays, the soft, cheesy pop music playing from hidden speakers overhead. You're sitting beside your best friend, absently dipping your fries in ketchup while she raves about her perfect boyfriend. 

"I really think he’s the one," Mikasa sighs dreamily, twirling her straw in her overpriced smoothie. "He’s so sweet. Like yesterday? He Doordashed me dinner because he was too tired to come over. He’s been working out so much lately. Said the coach has been giving him an earful."

You bite down on your fry to hide your smirk.

Because you know the truth.

Eren wasn’t too tired to come over

He was too busy fucking you.

Last night, while Mikasa was waiting on her food delivery, Eren had you on your knees, his fingers tangled in your hair, your lips wrapped around his cock, watching his head fall back against the wall as he groaned your name. One second, you were teasing him with slow, deliberate strokes of your tongue, and the next, he was yanking you up, bending you over, and slamming into you so hard the bed frame nearly cracked against the wall.

"You should really go, Eren," you had whispered mid-thrust, breathless and taunting, your lips curling into a wicked grin. "Your girlfriend’s gonna think you’re cheating." 

His teeth had grazed your jaw as he chuckled darkly, his hands gripping your hips even tighter. "I am cheating."

And God, you fucking loved it.

This wasn’t the first time. And it damn sure wouldn’t be the last.

Eren had first laid eyes on you at a frat party, long before he started dating Mikasa. That night, you had walked in wearing your short, red dress that defined all your curves. You flashed him a look that felt like a challenge. Since day fucking one, Eren knew you were going to be a big problem. 

It was bound to happen. 

At another party. You flirted shamelessly, left lingering touches, watched the way his eyes darkened when you leaned in too close.

He was confused because, weren’t you his girlfriend’s best friend? Was he being tested? 

He should’ve walked away. You were off-limits. Forbidden. 

But when you pulled him into an empty room, pressing your lips to his, he stopped questioning and started taking.

His girlfriend hadn’t been at the party, she had been sick in her dorm, completely unaware that her best friend was letting Eren touch her like she belonged to him.

Eren had tried to stay away after that. He really had.

But fuck, you were addictive. A pretty little tease with a filthy mouth and no morals. And he was a man with no self-control. So when the opportunity came again, he didn’t hesitate.

What was supposed to be a one-time mistake turned into two. Then three. Then it just… never stopped.

You couldn't even lie, Eren was phenomenal in bed. Mikasa wasn’t exaggerating about that part, or the size of his dick, either. But while you saw Eren for nothing more than a good fuck, he saw you as something else entirely.

An obsession.

Eren had been with plenty of women before. Too many to count. Girls threw themselves at him constantly. Pretty, easy, and desperate for a taste of him. But none of them compared to you.

You were his best-kept secret, his favorite sin. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get you out of his fucking head.

So as Mikasa keeps talking, going on and on about how sweet Eren is, how she sees a future with him, you barely hear a word of it.

Because you know the truth.

Eren Jaeger? Sweet?

Not even fucking close.

Mikasa could glaze him all she wanted. She could shove her perfect little life in your face—the fraternity president boyfriend, the money, the daddy-pulled connections.

But at the end of the day, you knew the real Eren.

The Eren who fucks you raw in your dorm and stays after, tracing invisible patterns into your skin.

The Eren who grips your chin and forces you to look at him when you moan someone else’s name just to piss him off.

The Eren who wishes you were his.

You slide your phone into your lap, unlocking it with a swipe. 

You: You're such a liar. You weren’t tired last night.

A response comes almost instantly.

Eren: My dick begs to differ.

You stifle a grin, tossing a casual glance at Mikasa. She’s still talking.

Completely unaware.

You type back.

You: Still in class? 

Eren: Yeah

You: Bet you wish I was under the desk right now ;)

Three dots appear. Then disappear.

Then, finally,

Eren: Don’t start.

Oh, but you already have.

And you both know he’s weak for you.

You smile at your phone, and from the corner of your eye, you notice Mikasa’s gaze flick toward you.

Immediately, you turn it off.

Now she’s intrigued. Nosy, like always.

"Ooh, who are you texting?" she asks, leaning in.

You flash her a teasing smirk. "Mr. Hottie."

Mikasa groans. "Ughhh, when are you gonna tell me his name? It has to be someone I know, you just don’t wanna admit it."

Oh, you know him alright.

You glance at the time and quickly push your chair back. "Shit, I gotta go, or I’ll be late for class. See you later, Mika."

And with that, you’re gone.

Now, you’re probably thinking—why the fuck would you sleep with your best friend’s boyfriend? She’s your best friend since high school! Why would you betray her like that? 

Simply put, your “best friend” is a raging, entitled, insufferable bitch.

Spoiled. Bratty. If it’s not her way, be prepared to never hear the end of it. She bullies, belittles, and flaunts her privilege like it’s a goddamn badge of honor. Her parents’ status opens every door for her, and she acts like she earned it.

You were just fucking done with it.

Done with the way she pretended to listen when you opened up about your childhood—the way she nodded along when you told her you grew up dirt poor, how you fought tooth and nail for a scholarship just to be here.

And then, the second you were done talking, she’d flip her hair and say, “Ugh, yeah, I totally get it. My parents refused to get me a new car last year, and I was like, hello? I deserve it?”

Like your struggles were even remotely fucking comparable.

But you swallowed it. Bit your tongue. Let it roll off your back.

Till you couldn’t.

Because it wasn’t just the privilege. It was the way she spoke to you.

The way she constantly, subtly, masterfully reminded you that no matter how hard you worked, you’d never be her equal. She was Queen B. You were just a worker. A pawn. A disposable sidekick for her to play off of.

The comments were always so backhanded. Dripping in fake innocence. She would tear you down, crush your spirit, and then blink at you with wide, clueless eyes, acting like she had no idea her words had left you raw.

You weren’t fucking stupid. 

She knew exactly what she was doing.

And how exactly did you know? 

Because in high school, there was a rumor. A nasty, vile, rumor that circulated around the small town you grew up in. It nearly destroyed you, your reputation and your chances of going to post secondary. 

It said your mother—a single, struggling woman who worked herself to the bone to keep a roof over your head—was a whore. That she sold her body to pay the bills.

And her daughter?

Did it for free.

For years, you never knew who started it.

It wasn’t until a friend of a friend circled back to you and informed you that it was Mikasa who started it. All you could do was scoff, because of course she was the one behind it. 

She had spread that rumor like wildfire, laughing behind your back as she watched you fall apart. She never even had the decency to own up to it.

So now?

She wants to talk about sex work?

Fine.

Because now, you do it on the daily.

With her fucking boyfriend.

The same one she wants to build her perfect little future with. 

The same one who spends half his nights inside you.

And if she ever finds out?

Oh, well.

Guess you’ll cross that bridge when you get there.

–

You're making your way to class when a hand grabs your wrist and yanks you behind a pillar.

Your heart jumps. You let out a startled yelp, but the second you meet those emerald eyes, you smile.

"Eren, you scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry," he mutters, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all. His hands are already sliding down your waist, fingers digging into your ass, greedily.

You giggle, shoving at his chest. "You have no shame."

"Neither do you."

And before you can argue, he kisses you.

It’s deep and lazy, like he has all the time in the world, like he wants to drag this moment out, but you pull away first. He groans, resting his forehead against yours, fingers toying with your necklace.

"Your girlfriend is so fucking insufferable," you mutter.

Eren chuckles. "Tell me about it. Was it the 'spending the rest of our lives together’ speech, or the thirty-dollar DoorDash?"

You roll your eyes. "Both."

His lips twitch as he plays with a strand of your hair. 

"Anyways, I gotta go." You step aside, adjusting your skirt. "See you later." Before you could leave, Eren grabs your hand and you look back at him, confused. "Later, as in, I should come over tonight?"

You smirk. "No, you horndog. Fuck your girlfriend once in a while."

And with that, you’re gone. You don’t notice the way Eren’s jaw clenches. You don’t see the flicker of frustration flash through his eyes.

Fuck.

What were you doing to him?

It was supposed to be just sex.

But lately, he’s been wanting more.

At first, it was little things.

A good morning text after a night together. A goodnight text even when he was lying beside Mikasa. The way he found himself sticking around after you fucked, lingering in your bed instead of leaving like he should.

When Jean started sniffing around, Eren almost lost his shit.

He wanted to put his fist through a wall when he overheard Jean saying, “Yeah, I might ask her out. She’s fucking fine”

Instead, Eren forced a smirk and lied through his teeth.

"She’s not looking for anything right now, man."

"Really?" Jean frowned.

"Yeah," Eren shrugged, keeping his voice casual. "She’s a heartless bitch when it comes to rejecting guys. Spares no feelings. Wouldn’t want that to be you, bro."

Jean hesitated, and that was all Eren needed.

But no matter what he did, you wouldn’t see him the way he saw you.

Every time he tried to test the waters, to gauge if you felt even an ounce of what he was feeling, you’d shut him down.

Remind him about Mikasa.

Mock him.

Push him away.

Eren fucking hated it.

Because most girls would beg for him.

Want him.

But you acted like you couldn’t care less.

And that’s what made him want you even more.

–

You’re sitting in your English class when your phone buzzes against the desk, over and over again. A quick glance at the screen shows the group chat completely blowing up.

Mikasa: OMGGG guess what!! 👀✨ Mikasa: The frat rented out a whole-ass campground for the long weekend!! Right by the lake!!

Mikasa: Pack your shit, we’re goingggg!!

Your brows furrow. Weird. You had just seen Eren, and he never mentioned it. But whatever. Maybe it just slipped his mind. Either way, now you had a whole weekend away to look forward to.

The weekend arrives and it all comes way too fast. Between last-minute shopping and shoving random shit into a bag, you barely have enough time to think. Mikasa reassures you that the guys are handling the food and tents, so all you need is clothes.

By the time she pulls up outside your dorm in Eren’s car, you’re already exhausted. The trunk pops open, and as you’re tossing your bag in, Eren leans in. For a brief moment, it’s just the two of you.

"Nice of you to finally tell me about this trip," you murmur, narrowing your eyes at him.

Eren smirks, completely unfazed. "Didn’t wanna give you time to back out."

You roll your eyes, about to step away, but before you can, he delivers a quick slap to your ass.

You gasp, whipping around, but all you get is a wink before he grabs your bag and hauls it into the car. Cocky bastard.

The ride there was hell on earth. Mikasa won’t shut the fuck up, going on and on about something you couldn’t care less about. Between her constant chatter and the winding roads making your head spin, you feel a migraine creeping in.

At some point, exhaustion wins. You close your eyes, resting your head against the window, and let sleep take over. When you blink awake, the car is parked, and Mikasa is gone. Your door is open, and Eren is crouched beside you, holding out a water bottle and two Tylenols.

"Thought you’d need this."

Blinking at him, a little dazed, a little confused, you hesitantly take the bottle from his hands. He tilts his head, watching you closely. "You gonna take them or just stare at me, princess?"

You scowl but grab the pills, washing them down quickly. As soon as you do, he smirks, pleased with himself. And then, so quickly you barely register it, he leans in and presses a featherlight kiss to your forehead. You don’t even have time to react before he’s grabbing your bags and slamming the car door shut. You sit there, stunned, pulse hammering in your ears.

By the time you and Eren make it to the campsite, everything is already in motion. The guys are halfway through pitching the tents, coolers are being unloaded, and Mikasa is, as expected, barking orders at people.

Armin, clipboard in hand, waves you over. "Sleeping arrangements are set," he says, glancing at his notes. "You’re with Jean."

Your brows raise. Jean Kirstein. You’ve heard of him. Seen him around. He’s one of Eren’s best friends.

And when you look up, Eren is already staring.

Jaw clenched. Hands flexing at his sides.

You smirk, shouldering your bag.

Oh, this was gonna be fun.

Jean was cute. A nice guy. The type you’d absolutely hook up with, but date? That was still up in the air. Hey, maybe he’d surprise you.

As Armin points you toward your tent, you can feel Eren’s stare burning into your back. You don’t have to turn around to know his entire body is humming with irritation. But you just shrug it off.

Jean grabs your bags before you can protest, carrying them effortlessly to the tent. When he unzips it, you’re surprised to find everything already set up. An air mattress, his sleeping bag, soft LED lights strung along the sides.

"Damn, you came prepared," you comment, impressed.

Jean grins. "Had to. Can’t let my tentmate suffer, can I?"

He helps set up your stuff, too, cracking jokes the entire time. He’s easy to talk to—funny, charming, and flirty when he wants to be. You like that.

The frat had a whole day of activities planned, but the lake was the biggest event. 

From swimming to tubing to jet skis, the day is packed with water sports. 

And to your luck, Jean was great with all of those. He grew up swimming, meaning he was a natural in the water. He shows off a little, diving in perfectly, flexing just enough to make it noticeable, but you don’t mind the view.

At one point, when the boat ride gets too bumpy, you end up in his lap. Another sharp wave hits, and Jean groans into your ear, his hands gripping your waist instinctively. You bite back a laugh, looking up at him.

"Sorry," you giggle, sliding off his lap.

He smirks. "No complaints here."

Later, when it comes time for jet skiing, you hesitate. The water is a little intimidating, but Jean works his magic, coaxing you into trying it out. "I won’t go too fast. Promise," he says, holding out his hand.

And true to his word, he keeps a steady, comfortable speed. Eventually, once you start feeling the adrenaline rush, you tell him, "Okay, faster."

You’re laughing, wind in your hair, having the time of your life. You don’t even notice Eren watching from the dock, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles go white.

And then, Jean takes your hand. Just casually, as you walk down the dock, fingers laced together. It’s innocent, playful.

But to Eren, it isn’t. It’s a fucking slap in the face.

–

Later that evening, after everything settles down, you make your way to the outdoor showers. The sun is low in the sky, the lake reflecting the warm orange glow. You’re about to rinse off when suddenly, a hand grabs your wrist and yanks you towards the other side of the shower, out of sight from everyone.

"What the fuck—"

You look up, and it’s Eren.

His jaw is tight, green eyes burning with jealousy. He cages you in, pressing you back against the rough wood. 

"What the hell is going on between you and Jean?" he demands, voice low, angry.

You blink at him, feigning innocence. "Um, nothing? Why? What does it look like?"

"Don’t play stupid," he grits out, stepping closer. "Ask to switch tents with someone. Connie’s sharing with Sasha—switch with Connie."

You scoff, crossing your arms. "Why would I do that? I like my sleeping arrangement."

His nostrils flare. "Seriously? Fucking stop. It’s not funny."

"Eren," you sigh, rolling your eyes, "you need to cool it, or you’re gonna blow our fucking cover."

Before he can argue, you see Jean approaching over the hill, carrying a towel. You had asked him to hold it up for you for privacy while you used the outdoor shower.

Eren sees him. And sees red.

His nails dig into his palms, rage vibrating off him in waves. He wants to snap. Wants to grab you, throw you over his shoulder, drag you back to his tent, and make you remember exactly who the fuck you belong to.

But he can’t. Because if he reacts, he’ll blow this entire thing up.

So instead, he turns on his heel and storms off. Doesn’t look back. Doesn’t risk another second of watching you strip in front of Jean.

Because if he does, he might actually lose his mind.

–

The fire crackled, sending sparks into the night as the group huddled around, sharing ghost stories, stuffing their faces with s’mores, and laughing at stupid inside jokes. There weren’t enough chairs for everyone, which meant Mikasa was on Eren’s lap… and you were on Jean’s.

Not that you minded. Beneath the shared blanket draped over the both of you, Jean’s hands roamed your bare thighs, his touch slow and lazy, like he was memorizing the feel of your skin. It was soothing, almost enough to pull you to sleep right then and there. But the way his fingers occasionally squeezed, tracing patterns along your inner thigh? That kept you very much awake.

Eren, across from you, was the complete opposite. Stiff. Silent. Seething. His fingers tapped against the armrest of his chair, his jaw shut so tightly you swore you could hear his teeth grinding. He wasn’t paying attention to the conversation, didn’t even acknowledge Mikasa’s attempts to pull him in. No, his eyes were locked on you. 

Yet, all you could do is enjoy Jean’s presence. He leaned in, voice low in your ear. “Tired, sweetheart?”

You hummed. “Mhm. Long day.”

Jean’s fingers crept up your thigh. “Wanna turn in?”

Eren dropped his beer bottle, and the sharp crack of glass shattering snapped both of your heads up. He glances down at the shards of glass, his breathing heavy, and when Mikasa gasped and bent down to help clean up, he went back to his tent without a word.

Jean's face twisted in concern. “Damn. What’s his problem?”

You shrugged, playing dumb. “Beats me.”

–

The air in the tent was thick, humid from the warmth of two bodies pressed close. You were snug in your sleeping bag, wrapped in layers of fleece, but even that wasn’t enough to keep out the night’s chill.

Jean, already tucked into his own bag, turned his head to look at you. “You’re shivering.”

“I’m fine,” you whispered.

He smirked. “You could just share with me. My sleeping bag’s bigger, and I’m very warm.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Jean didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah, actually.”

The bastard. You laughed, shaking your head. You were tempted. It was cold, and you were shivering. And Jean was very warm. So, after a beat, you gave in, slipping out of your bag and into his.

Jean pulled you close immediately, wrapping his arms around you as if he’d been waiting for this moment all night. “Told you,” he murmured against your ear.

You weren’t sure how it started, only that it happened fast. One second, you were tangled up in blankets, pressed chest to chest, and the next, his lips were on yours. Desperate. Starving.

You moaned into his mouth, fingers tugging at his hair as his hands roamed your body, slipping beneath your shirt, palming at your breast. The heat between your legs pulsed when he gripped your hips and pulled you onto his lap, and fuck—the hardness pressing against you had your breath hitching.

Jean groaned, head tipping back. “Shit, sweetie. You feel so fuckin’ good.”

You gasped, grinding down against him, feeling his length strain against his boxers. His fingers slipped between your legs, rubbing slow circles over your clothed clit, and when you whimpered into his mouth, he grinned.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured.

You leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “I wanna suck you off.”

Jean let out a shaky breath, nearly losing it right then and there. “Fuck. Come here, baby.”

You didn’t waste a second. You shifted, turning around to face the opposite way, your ass now right in his face. The both of you hurriedly shoved your pants down, hands fumbling in the dark, and the second your tongue traced the tip of his cock, his mouth was on you.

It was filthy. The wet sounds of slurping, the stifled moans swallowed against skin, the quiet squeak of the air mattress beneath you, it all filled the tent in a sinful symphony. His tongue lapped against your folds, fingers digging into your ass as he devoured you. You moaned around his length, sending vibrations down his cock, and Jean shuddered.

“Shit—gonna cum,” he gritted out, hands gripping your hips as he thrust up into your mouth.

You let him. You took it. Let him fuck himself into your throat until he was spilling on your tongue, groaning against your soaked cunt as you came with him.

The moment was hazy, the world tilting as you collapsed beside him, exhausted and spent. Jean pulled you close, pressing lazy kisses to your forehead as his fingers traced gentle circles on your back.

“Fuck, that was good,” he murmured.

You hummed, barely processing his words as your heavy eyelids fluttered shut. Jean played with your hair, his touch lulling you to sleep, and the last thing you remembered before drifting off was the sound of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

–

The next morning, you woke to an empty bed.

The space beside you was already cold, but you didn’t panic. You recalled hearing the soft shuffle of movement sometime before dawn, Jean whispering in your ear about an early morning fishing trip with the boys.

The chill morning air nipped at your skin as you stepped out of the tent, stretching your sore muscles. Mikasa was already awake, curled up in one of the camping chairs, a thick blanket draped over her shoulders. A steaming cup of coffee rested between her hands, and her dark hair was messy from sleep.

When she spotted you, her eyes lit up with amusement. “So… is Jean Mr. Hottie?”

You froze. Oh, fuck.

She grinned, completely oblivious to the way your stomach dropped. “Because last night? You guys were so loud!”

You swallowed, trying to play dumb. “We were?”

“Yeah! It sounded like two grizzlies fighting over a salmon.” She laughed, taking a sip of her coffee.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s the stupid air mattress.”

Mikasa snickered, shaking her head. “Eren and I had to mute it out with our own ‘stuff.’ Hence why I’m so tired.”

Your whole body stiffened.

You didn’t want to hear this. You hated hearing this. But you forced yourself to stay neutral. “And how did that go for you?”

Mikasa sighed, leaning back in her chair. “He just made me suck him off.” She frowned, staring into her cup. “I don’t know… he’s been really cold toward me lately. Do you think he’s getting cold feet?”

Your chest tightened. You shouldn’t care. You didn’t care. This wasn’t your problem. This wasn’t your relationship.

Still… even though you hated Mikasa, even though you had no real loyalty to her, something about these conversations always made your morals check in.

You exhaled through your nose, keeping your voice light. “Have you tried talking to him about it?”

“I have, but every time I bring it up, he just shuts me down. He’s not like how he used to be.”

Right. Before he started fucking you.

You forced a small smile. “I’m sure he’ll bounce back. Being the president of the frat isn’t easy work. Maybe he’s just stressed.”

“Maybe…” Mikasa muttered, but she didn’t sound convinced.

Before she could press the conversation any further, you stood up, brushing invisible lint off your sweatshirt. “I’m gonna go wash my face.”

–

By the time you finished getting ready for the day, the guys were back from their fishing trip. You spotted Jean first, looking bright-eyed and grinning as he sauntered toward you.

“Hey, sweetie,” he greeted, his voice warm as his hands instinctively found your waist. You smiled up at him, letting him pull you into his embrace. 

Your eyes scanned around and sure enough, Eren was staring again. 

His fishing pole was still slung over his shoulder, his damp hoodie clinging to his body from the early morning mist. His face was unreadable, but his eyes? You couldn’t tell, because today it was softer. Was it betrayal? Sadness? Hurt? 

Something twisted in your chest. Guilt? Remorse? You weren’t sure.

But whatever it was, you shoved it down. Because Eren had no right to look at you like that. He had a girlfriend. He was supposed to be exclusive to her.

He couldn’t have her and you and expect you to stay loyal to him.

So, instead of addressing the look in his eyes, you smiled at Jean, letting your fingers trail along his arm. Loud. Clear. Intentional.

Eren had no claim over you, and the sooner he accepted that, the better it was for both of you. 

–

The day had been perfect. Almost.

It was a full itinerary—archery, swimming, drinking. The usual camp shit. But don’t even ask about archery, because it was a fucking disaster.

You weren’t just bad at it, you were embarrassing. Every shot went wide, some arrows even bouncing off the ground pathetically before reaching the target. At one point, you nearly took out Connie’s eye, and he screamed like it was a drive-by.

Jean had tried to help, standing behind you, adjusting your grip, guiding your movements. But it was pointless. You were terrible and he knew it. But still, he stayed behind you, his hands firm on your arms, his voice warm in your ear.

“You’re just too tense,” he teased. “You gotta loosen up.”

“Oh? You offering a massage?”

His fingers squeezed at your waist, making you laugh. “I don’t do freebies, sweetheart.”

–

By mid-afternoon, the energy had shifted. Not with you. Not with Jean.

With Eren. 

Because sometime between lunch and now, he and Mikasa had fought.

Not just a spat. Not their usual bickering where she scolded him for being reckless and he brushed her off like it didn’t matter.

This was different. This was loud. This was heated.

Mikasa had cornered him, voice low but sharp, pleading with him to tell her what was wrong. Why he was so cold. Why he barely touched her anymore. Why he never looked at her like he used to. Why she felt like she was losing him.

Eren just stood there.

Face stoic and silent. 

He didn’t care, just walked away.

Didn’t comfort her. Didn’t tell her she was overthinking. Didn’t reassure her with the soft words and tender touches she so obviously craved.

Mikasa had been devastated.

Everyone had heard it.

And now, they were talking.

Because no one knew why he was acting like this. No one understood why he seemed like he’d rather be anywhere else, with anyone else.

But you knew. 

–

Later that night, the fire popped, sending flickers of orange light across the group. The smell of roasted marshmallows filled the air, mixing with the night’s chill. You sat in Jean’s lap, your legs wrapped in a cozy blanket as his arms circled your waist, idly tracing patterns on your skin. The moment was easy, the perfect mix of warmth and comfort.

Sasha was going off with one of her ridiculous spooky stories, but your attention was scattered. Your focus wavered, till a giggle made your head turn. 

Eren and Mikasa were wrapped up in each other. You didn't need to look closely to see it. His arms around her waist, his lips moving against her skin, and her soft giggles that were too loud to ignore. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

Whatever. If Mikasa was finally getting the attention she wanted, good for her. It was about time.

You didn’t care. Honestly, it was a relief. You were tired of hearing her complain about Eren’s distance, about how he wasn’t paying attention to her. Now she had him, all over her like she always wanted. Let her have it.

You shifted slightly in Jean’s lap, your focus still on him as he teased you about your less-than-stellar archery skills. You were ready with a snarky comeback when a low moan cut through the air, sharp enough to stop the conversation dead in its tracks.

Everyone’s heads snapped to the source—Mikasa, her head thrown back against Eren’s shoulder, eyes shut tight. And it clicked. You didn’t need to see any more than that to know exactly what was happening under that damn blanket.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up, and Jean’s chuckle joined yours. It was too much, Mikasa’s constant complaints, her needy energy for attention, and now here she was, practically giving a live show in front of the group. You looked around, finding everyone else’s uncomfortable glances and subtle eye-rolls.

Connie, ever the asshole, barked at them to take it to the tent, and without missing a beat, they both got up, retreating into the shadows with their drama. That was definitely a mood killer, though. The atmosphere was completely shot, and one by one, people filtered back to their tents, eager to end the night and pretend they didn’t just witness the latest episode of “Mikasa and Eren's Fucked Relationship.”

You're back in the tent, leaning back into Jean. The fire’s warmth long forgotten, the awkwardness lingering in the air like smoke. You felt exhausted from the day’s events and all the noise, so when Jean’s arms pulled you closer, you didn’t protest. You let yourself melt into him, a small, content sigh slipping from your lips.

You were already halfway to sleep before Jean could even try to make a move, and he didn’t push it. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in tighter as you drifted off, the tension of the day finally leaving your body.

It was peaceful, despite everything else that had happened. For now, all that mattered was this quiet moment.

–

It was about 2 a.m. when you woke up, shivering slightly in the cold air. Jean’s grip on you had loosened, and the warmth of his body was now distant. You shifted restlessly, frustrated by your inability to fall back asleep. Grabbing your hoodie and sweats from the edge of your sleeping bag, you quietly slipped out of the tent, careful not to wake Jean.

You were almost two steps away from the tent when you heard the zipper of another. Your heart skipped as you glanced over and saw Eren emerging from Mikasa’s tent. What the hell?

He noticed you instantly and came toward you, his figure still shadowed in the dim moonlight. “You need to use the bathroom?”

You hesitated, thinking fast. “Yeah,” you lied, giving him a small nod.

“Alright, I’ll walk with you.” He started toward the washroom, falling into step beside you, his breath visible in the cool air.

“Did I wake you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice casual.

“No,” he replied, his voice low, almost too casual. “I’ve been up for a while.”

“Oh. How come?”

He shrugged but didn’t offer any further explanation, and you didn’t press. The silence between you both was thick, the only sound being the crunch of your footsteps on the dry leaves.

When you reached the washroom, you hesitated. “Actually, I don’t really need to go,” you admitted. “I just couldn’t fall back asleep.”

Eren gave you a look that you couldn’t quite read, then raised an eyebrow. “Wanna go for a walk instead?”

You didn’t see any harm in it, so you nodded, letting him lead you away from the camp and into the woods. The further you went, the quieter it became, the sounds of nature surrounding you. But it felt awkward—strained. Neither of you spoke for what seemed like forever.

Finally, Eren broke the silence, his voice unexpectedly sharp. “So, do you really like Jean that much?”

His question caught you off guard. You hadn’t expected him to come at you like this. Still, you kept your cool, even though your heart skipped. “Yeah. He’s sweet. Why?”

Eren didn’t respond right away. You could feel the weight of his silence hanging between you. So, you decided to fill it. “I see you and Mikasa worked things out,” you said, forcing a neutral tone. “I’m really happy for you.”

Eren scoffed in disbelief. “Don’t feed me that bullshit. You’re her best friend.”

“And you’re her boyfriend,” you shot back, meeting his eyes.

Eren stopped walking for a moment, his gaze intense, almost too intense. “Yet you’re the one I can’t stop thinking about.”

When Eren pulls you closer, you don’t even question it. Something in the way he moves, the way his breath quickens as he closes the space between you, feels like fate, like something you can’t fight even if you tried. And you’re not trying. In fact, you lean into him, just a little, just enough to feel his chest against yours, his body heat enveloping you.

His hands are on you, firm, possessive, like they were made to touch you. Like they belong there. Your breath catches as his fingers dig into your sides, pulling you closer, and fuck, it feels like he’s branded you. You’re hyper-aware of every inch of his body pressed against yours. You can’t escape it, don’t want to.

He’s close, so close that the air around you feels charged. And before you can even process the thought, you close the gap. Your lips crash together, urgent, desperate, like you’re both starved for this moment. His kiss is hungry, raw, taking as much as it gives, and you can feel the desperation in every movement. It’s a whirlwind. Fast, unrelenting, pulling you right under.

Eren’s hands roam down your body, his grip tightening as he presses you up against the rough bark of the tree. You wince at the sensation, but the pain is nothing compared to the heat coursing through your veins. His lips are everywhere now, dragging along your jaw, your neck, but each touch only makes you want more.

You gasp when his lips find yours again, and this time, you kiss him back with everything you’ve got. It’s wild, it’s chaotic, but it’s exactly what you’ve been waiting for. His body presses you harder into the tree, the bark digging into your back, but you don’t care. You welcome it. It’s not enough to stop you. Nothing can stop you now.

His tongue slides into your mouth, and your hands instinctively grip the front of his shirt, pulling him even closer, if that’s even possible. His breath mingles with yours, and you can feel the heat between you, pulsing with every second that passes. You don’t know how long this moment lasts. Time seems to blur together as you lose yourself in the kiss, in the feeling of his body against yours, in the madness of it all.

Eren grips your thighs and lifts you like it’s nothing, pressing you flush against the tree, his body caging you in, heat rolling off him in waves. The rough bark digs into your back, but the only thing you can focus on is him; his scent, his strength, the way his chest rises and falls against yours.

Your legs tighten around his waist instinctively, and you can feel him straining against the fabric separating you. You grind against him, dragging your hips down to feel all of him, and the groan that rumbles in his chest is so fucking deep, so fucking wrecked, it sends a shiver up your spine.

“Fuckin’ hell.” His voice is a low growl, his forehead pressing against yours for a split second before his mouth is on your jaw, your throat, biting and sucking, leaving his mark on your skin. Branding you.

Your head tilts back, lips parting as a soft, needy moan escapes you.

“I want more,” you breathe into his ear, voice wrecked, desperate.

Eren stills for a second—just a second—before he exhales sharply, a low, dark chuckle vibrating against your throat.

“Yeah?” His voice is gravel, his fingers already yanking down your sweats with one rough tug, leaving them bunched around one ankle. His own pants are pushed down just enough to free his cock, and when you feel the heavy press of him against your soaked folds, you whimper.

Eren groans when he slides his fingers through your slick, spreading it, feeling just how fucking ready you are for him.

“You have me fucking crazy,” he mutters, dragging the tip of his cock through your wetness, teasing you, making you feel every inch of him before he even gives it to you.

His green eyes find yours, dark and burning.

“Gonna fuck this pussy till you’re a crying mess on me,” he breathes, voice thick with lust, his fingers digging into your hips as he lines himself up. “Won’t fucking stop till you’re leaking with my cum.”

Then he sinks in.

Your mouth parts in a silent gasp as he stretches you, fills you to the fucking brim, the thick weight of him pushing deep, deep, deep until he’s buried fully.

For a second, neither of you move.

Eren groans, low and wrecked, his hands gripping your hips as he lets you feel it. Lets you feel just how deep he is, how perfectly his cock fits inside you.

Then he pulls back just enough to slam back in.

You choke on a moan, nails digging into his shoulders as he starts fucking you in earnest, hard, fast, deep—every thrust pushing you higher, higher, higher.

The sound of his skin slapping yours fills the night, filthy and obscene, mixing with your gasps, your moans, the broken curses that fall from his lips.

Your head tips back against the tree, mouth falling open as he hits that spot, over and over, and your body reacts on instinct, pulling him deeper, gripping him tighter.

“Shit—” Eren grits his teeth, his pace never faltering. Never slowing. His hands grip your ass tighter, spreading you open so he can fuck into you deeper, harder, rougher.

“How the fuck—” His voice is low, his forehead pressing against yours as his pace turns brutal. “—was this pussy ever meant for anyone but me?”

You can’t speak. Can’t think. You’re already losing it, your body coiling so tight you feel like you might snap.

And Eren can feel it.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he groans, his hand slipping between you, fingers rubbing your clit in tight, perfect circles. “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

A sharp cry tears from your throat as your body clenches around him, tightening, squeezing, fucking drowning him. His thrusts grow erratic, hips slamming into you like he’s trying to fuck you into the tree, into the dirt, into the fucking ground.

Then his hand moves from your waist to your throat, wrapping around it, tilting your head up so he can watch you fall apart.

“That’s right,” he grits out, his cock twitching inside you, his voice turning ragged as his hips stutter against yours. “Fucking take it.”

And when you cum, when you fucking explode around him, clenching so tight he can barely fucking move, Eren follows, groaning deep in his chest as he buries himself as deep as he can, filling you up to the fucking brim.

His hands grip your thighs tight, and before you can even catch your breath, he shifts, hiking your legs over his shoulders. The new angle makes you gasp, makes you feel him even deeper, the thick, swollen head of his cock pressing into that sensitive, aching spot inside you.

“Fuck—” Your voice is already wrecked, but Eren doesn’t slow down.

If anything, he picks up the pace.

His hips snap forward, slamming into you with a force that knocks the breath out of you, his cock dragging along every nerve ending that has you seeing fucking stars.

Your fingers claw at his arms, at his shoulders, at anything you can grab onto, but he stops you, trapping your wrists above your head with one hand, pinning you to the tree. His body keeps you in place, fucking into you so deep it feels like he’s about to split you open.

Your body starts trembling, tightening, your orgasm building too fast, too soon. And Eren already knows.

“You gonna cum already?” he taunts, voice rough, his forehead pressing against yours as he watches you fall apart beneath him. “Thought you could handle me, baby.”

“I-I—fuck—” Your words are lost in moans, gasps, pleasure coiling so tight it’s unbearable.

Eren just grins, his free hand dropping between you, rubbing your clit in tight, merciless circles.

Your body reacts instantly, your back arching, your mouth parting, your legs shaking as that coil inside you snaps.

You cum hard, thighs clamping around him as your pussy squeezes his cock so fucking tight he groans, his rhythm faltering for a split second.

But he doesn’t stop.

Doesn’t fucking let up.

“Too much,” you cry, voice breaking, your entire body shaking beneath him.

“Nah,” Eren growls, driving into you harder, deeper, faster. “This is exactly what you fucking wanted.”

Your moans turn helpless, breathless, your body over-sensitive, overwhelmed. He’s fucking you like he means to ruin you, to break you in. 

His teeth graze your jaw, your throat, his grip bruising on your waist as he pounds into you, relentless.

“This pussy is mine,” he mutters, voice low and dark in your ear. “Fucked Jean with it once and now you think it belongs to him? Nah, baby. You were fucking made for me.”

Your stomach tightens, pleasure crests again way too soon, way too strong.

Eren can feel it. He can fucking tell.

“You gonna cum again?” he grits out, his hand tightening around your wrists, his other still playing with your clit, determined to push you over the fucking edge.

“Eren—fuck—” Your words dissolve into moans, your entire body jerks, locks up, the pleasure hitting you so hard it almost hurts. Your pussy clenches around his cock, the tight, pulsing heat pulling him even deeper, and when his fingers press against your clit, you fucking squirt.

It’s sudden, involuntary, completely out of your control, your release gushing out around his cock, soaking him, dripping down your thighs.

Eren groans so deep it’s nearly a growl, his movements stuttering for just a second before he starts fucking into you again, riding out your high like he’s trying to force another one out of you.

Your head falls back, dazed, wrecked, gone. Eren catches your jaw, forcing you to look at him, to stay present as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“Look at that,” he breathes, watching the mess you made. “So fucking pretty when you lose it on my cock.”

He grabs your hips, holds you still, buries himself deep, and groans. Hot, thick ropes flood your insides, and the sensation makes you clench, whimper, tremble, your body barely able to take it.

Eren stays inside you, filling you up, holding you there as he catches his breath. Your vision is hazy, spotty, your body still trembling, your lungs struggling to keep up. 

For a moment, silence lingers, but then he speaks.

“I don’t like you with Jean.” 

Your stomach twists, but you don’t let it show. Instead, you tilt your head, smirking just a little. “Well, then it’s a damn good thing that you’re not my boyfriend.”

His jaw tenses.

His hands on your hips tighten, like he wants to hold you there, make you stay, make you fucking listen.

But before he can, you slip out of his grasp, his cock slipping out of you with a messy, wet sound, cum still dripping down your thighs as you pull your sweats up. You don’t look back.

He’s left gutted, fists clenched, watching you walk away like he isn’t about to fucking lose his mind.

–

The next morning, nobody suspected a thing.

You had slipped back into the tent before sunrise, body still aching, used, sore in ways you had no business being.

Jean didn’t stir when you nestled back into your sleeping bag, didn’t notice you were gone. And since the camp hadn’t erupted into chaos, since Mikasa wasn’t ripping through the trees looking for her boyfriend, you figured Eren had kept his mouth shut.

You were limping, not enough to draw attention, but just enough that your gait felt unnatural. You played it off, rolling your shoulders, stretching like you had just slept in a weird position.

The morning was peaceful. The fire crackled as everyone moved around lazily, cooking breakfast, packing up their things. Mikasa leaned into Eren’s side like everything was normal, talking to him about something you weren’t paying attention to.

Eren didn’t respond.

Not to her.

After breakfast, the gang started packing up. The tents came down, bags were loaded into cars, and you made your way to Jean’s, tossing your stuff into the back seat.

It was the obvious choice.

Jean had offered, and his car meant six peaceful hours without sitting next to Eren or Mikasa. Sure, it’d take longer since Jean was towing the boat, but it didn’t matter.

His company was what you needed.

–

You head back to the campsite to see if everyone’s ready to leave, and there she is.

Mikasa, glowing.

She’s practically vibrating with excitement, beaming as you overhear her telling Eren about the scholarship she just won. The scholarship.

The one you needed to fund your education.

The one you had spent months working for.

She wouldn’t have even known about it if it weren’t for you. It wasn’t like she needed it anyway. Her well-off parents were paying for everything, while you were fighting just to stay afloat, trying to avoid living paycheck to paycheck.

Her voice is light, effortless, as if this hadn’t been handed to her on a silver fucking platter.

"It’ll open so many doors for me," she says, smiling so wide it makes your stomach twist. She is completely oblivious to the way your fists curl at your sides.

Like her life wasn’t already a series of open doors. Like this wasn’t everything to you. Like you hadn’t been grinding, sacrificing, bleeding for this chance.

And now it was gone. Because Mikasa’s dad pulled a few strings. Because she applied behind your back. Because she never once stopped to think that maybe she didn’t deserve it as much as you did. 

Everything was a competition to her and she always needed to win. Even if she has to play dirty. 

You try to breathe. You try to swallow it down. You tell yourself it is what it is. But it feels like something lodged in your chest, sharp and suffocating.

When Mikasa walks over later, her voice all bubbly and sweet, like she wasn’t standing there holding your future in her hands, you know you’re not going to be able to hold your tongue.

“I can’t believe I got in!” she gushes, oblivious. “I’m so excited. This is going to change everything for me!”

Your jaw locks.

Your nails dig into your palms.

And then, before you can stop yourself, it slips out.

"You're lucky, Mikasa. You have all the connections. Your dad can get you whatever you want."

The smile falters. Her brows knit together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Your throat is tight. The anger has been simmering for years, and now it’s boiling over.

“I didn’t have a dad to pull strings for me,” you snap, voice sharp enough to cut. “My mom doesn’t give a shit about me. She’s too busy with her boyfriend to notice that I’ve been scraping by for years. This scholarship was my way out, Mikasa. It was my fucking chance.”

Mikasa blinks. “I… I didn’t know—”

“Yes, you did.” You let out a bitter laugh. “If you ever actually listened when I talked, instead of scrolling on your phone the whole time, maybe you would’ve picked up on it. I needed that scholarship. You didn’t.”

Your voice cracks, heat rising in your chest.

“Your parents love you. They support you. You’ve got a safety net, Mikasa. You’ll always land on your feet. Your name alone opens doors. Your family makes sure of it.”

You take a shaky breath, eyes burning.

“Meanwhile, I’m out here breaking myself just to prove I belong. To prove I deserve to be in the same fucking rooms you walk into without trying.”

“That’s not fair,” she says, voice small. “I worked hard for this.”

You scoff. Hard?

Hard is what you’ve been doing your entire life.

Hard is working double shifts while keeping your GPA spotless. Hard is knowing no one will pull strings for you, that if you don’t fight tooth and nail for what you want, you’ll get nothing.

Mikasa will never know that struggle.

And she sure as hell didn’t have to fight for this.

“You don’t get to act like we started at the same place,” you say coldly. “You don’t get to pretend like you needed this the way I did.”

The words land like a slap.

Mikasa stares, lips parting like she’s going to say something—but she doesn’t. Because what can she say?

Nothing she says will change the fact that she took this from you.

And for the first time ever, you can see it in her face.

She knows it too. But she won’t back down. Not when everyone’s watching. 

Her voice trembles when she says, “That’s not my fault. You think I don’t work hard for everything I’ve got?”

But you laugh. It’s bitter, sharp, cutting. “You don’t have to work as hard as me, Mikasa. You never did.”

“Don’t make this about me!” Her voice rises, frustration cracking through. “I didn’t ask for your shitty family life!”

Your chest burns.

You’re done biting your tongue.

“Maybe you didn’t,” you spit, “but you sure as hell flaunt it. Maybe you should try living in the real world for once.”

You turn, because if you look at her for one more second, you might just lose it.

But it’s too late. You’re already unraveling. The words keep spilling out, and you can’t stop them now.

“You have everything, Mikasa. A mother and father who care about you. A future. I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing. I just wanna be something more.”

There’s a pause. Just long enough for you to feel the weight of your words settling between you.

Mikasa’s eyes glisten. She takes a step back. “I never meant to hurt you, okay? I don’t—”

Then you bring up something that makes her blood run cold. 

“I know it was you. You were the one who spread those fucking rumors about me.”

She freezes. 

Her mouth parts but she doesn’t deny it.

Her silence is confirmation enough.

Your stomach twists.

You already knew. You always knew. But hearing it like this? Watching her stand there, caught?

It’s infuriating.

“I was in a dark place,” she says finally, eyes teary, voice pleading.

But that just makes you laugh. 

“Don’t give me those fucking tears. That’s not a fucking excuse.” You take a step closer. “You were in a dark place?! What could possibly put your perfect life in a dark place? Please, Mikasa, fucking enlighten me.”

She swallows. “I don’t know! Everyone fucking likes you! You don’t even have anything!”

You still.

Your breath catches, before you bark out a laugh.

“That’s not an excuse to be a raging cunt.” Your eyes flicker over her, disgust curling in your stomach. “You are a spoiled, entitled, selfish brat.”

And then, before you even realize it, you say it. 

“That’s why your fucking boyfriend—”

Silence.

Your heart stops.

Mikasa’s eyes go wide.

And when you glance around, everyone’s watching.

Jean. Armin. Connie. Sasha.

Eren.

Your stomach plummets.

You almost finished that sentence. Almost.

Before you could do anymore damage, you walk away. 

–

He finds you at the edge of the trail.

The same place where he had you up against a tree last night, fucking you like you belonged to him.

You don’t even look at him when he sits beside you.

His hand grazes your back.

And you shrug him off.

“We can’t hide this shit forever,” he says finally, voice low.

You let out a breath. “There’s no ‘we,’ Eren. She’s your fucking girlfriend.”

“Don’t give me that shit.”

“Fuck off, Eren.” Your voice is exhausted. “If you came here to fight with me, get the hell out of here.”

His head tilts. “You talk so much about Mikasa being a raging cunt, but so the fuck are you.”

You turn to him, eyes flashing.

“At least I have my reasons,” you snap. “How would you understand? You’re just like her.”

That fucking gets him.

Eren stands, his chest heavy with the weight of everything that just happened. He doesn’t look back as he walks away from you, his footsteps quick and determined, like he’s fleeing from the consequences of his own actions.

When he finally reaches the campsite, Mikasa is waiting. Her eyes are wide, frantic, a twisted mix of confusion and rage. The moment he steps into view, she pounces on him, her voice sharp with accusation.

“Where the hell have you been? Why were you with her, Eren? I’m your fucking girlfriend. Why the hell aren’t you comforting me?” she snaps, eyes blazing, breath coming in quick bursts.

Eren doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down. He stands there, silent for a moment, the weight of what’s coming crashing down on him.

“I don’t love you,” he says, voice low but filled with finality. “I don’t think I even like you anymore.”

Mikasa’s face goes pale. Her eyes narrow, disbelief spreading across her features, but it doesn’t stop there. She starts piecing it together, her mind racing as she realizes what’s been happening.

“No…” Her voice trembles, cracking, but she doesn’t want to hear the truth. “You can’t—no, Eren. You’re not saying this. You can’t do this to me.”

The anger she should feel doesn’t come. Instead, it’s replaced by a seething, twisted pain that claws at her chest. But it’s not anger at him. It’s not his betrayal that makes her burn.

It’s you.

Her gaze flickers to the distance, searching for you in the crowd, the realization like a punch to the gut. There’s only one thing she can think of now, one thing that matters.

You.

“Fuck this, Eren. Fuck you. How could you? How long, huh? How long have you been fucking her behind my back?” Her voice cracks, not from sadness, but from fury.

Eren doesn’t flinch, doesn’t try to explain. He lets the silence hang heavy in the air between them, his expression closed off.

Mikasa’s panic sets in, her thoughts scattering like a thousand pieces of glass. “Tell me. How long? How long, Eren?!” she demands again, voice rising.

“Three months,” he repeats, his voice steady now, like the admission has ripped the last of the care he had for her away.

Her stomach turns. She can’t process it, can’t understand it. Her mind races, but there’s only one thing she knows for sure—you are the source of all of this.

“I’ll fucking kill her,” she mutters to herself, though the words are so cold, so full of venom, they sound like a promise.

Eren doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to.

But when you walk back into the campsite, the tension reaches its breaking point. Mikasa’s eyes flash with rage, and without a second thought, she launches at you, like a predator finally cornering its prey.

But you don’t back down. You meet her halfway, ready for the fight, your fists clenched, your heart pumping with raw emotion.

The guys scramble to separate you two, but Mikasa’s too far gone, her insults flying from her mouth like daggers. “You think you’re so special, don’t you? Always playing the victim while everything gets handed to you.”

You scoff, glaring at her. “Daddy’s money and connections don’t buy you love, sweetheart. Maybe you should try being real for once instead of hiding behind all that privilege.”

Mikasa’s face turns red with fury, her body trembling with rage. “You don’t know shit about me!” she yells, and with a final, desperate shove, she tries to break free of the guys holding her back.

But the damage is done. The words you threw at her hit their mark, and the final straw has been broken. Eren watches, torn between his loyalty to Mikasa and the bitter, gnawing pull toward you, but in the end, he knows he’s already made his choice.

And as Mikasa glares at you, the hate in her eyes burning bright, it’s clear that nothing will ever be the same.

–

Once you return to campus, you shut everyone out of your life. Mikasa, Eren, Jean—every single one of them was cut off. Jean’s absence stung the most, to be honest. If you had approached things differently, maybe things with him could’ve been something real, something meaningful. But now, you just didn’t have the energy to care.

The rumors that Mikasa had forgiven Eren and that they were "on a break" reached your ears, but honestly? You didn’t care. The whole situation had been toxic from the start, and you wanted no part of it. You needed space, and for the first time in a long while, you had it. You focused on school, threw yourself into your studies, and let the noise of the past fade into the background.

You didn’t avoid Eren, but you didn’t engage either. You saw him around campus sometimes, mostly in that hallway on the way to your English class. Every time you passed him, you could feel his eyes on you, a silent plea begging for your attention, for an explanation, but you kept walking, never giving him the satisfaction. It wasn’t like you didn’t notice him, it was just that you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. He’d made his choice, and you’d made yours.

As the months passed, you quietly accepted that life went on without him, without any of them. Your focus was on your future, and it was a future you had earned for yourself. A future that would take you far from here, far from everything that had tried to destroy you.

Switzerland.

It wasn’t just a dream anymore. It was real, and you had earned it. A different scholarship, a fresh start. You didn’t tell anyone. Not Mikasa. Not Eren. Only a brief post on social media, a congratulations from your university. But seriously, who paid attention to those?

Apparently, Eren did.

You were just about to leave that night. Your flight was at 3 a.m., and your mom was picking you up to take you to the airport. You were packing up the last of your things when you heard a knock at your dorm door. Your heart skipped, your pulse quickened as you opened it to find him standing there, his face drawn and his eyes red.

“Hey,” he said quietly, almost like he didn’t know what else to say.

“Hey,” you replied, voice soft. You didn’t know what you expected, but it wasn’t this. Him. Standing there, looking like he had the world on his shoulders.

He glanced behind you, his eyes searching, “You... leaving tonight, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, keeping your tone even. “Flight’s at 3. My mom’s taking me to the airport.”

There was a pause, thick with the weight of everything unsaid between you two. You could feel the tension in the air, like something was about to snap, but you weren’t sure if you were ready for it yet. The silence lingered, stretching between the two of you like a chasm neither of you could cross.

Finally, Eren broke it. “Can we talk?”

You hesitated, your heart a tangled mess of emotions, but after a beat, you stepped aside to let him in. You didn’t know what was going to come of this. Whether he was here to apologize, to beg, or to finally face the mess he’d left behind. But you knew one thing for sure.

You weren’t the same person anymore.

As the door clicked shut behind him, the weight of the past seemed to settle between you both.

“How long are you gone for?” 

“About a year.” 

Eren's eyes lingered on you for a moment, his gaze heavy, as though he were trying to process the weight of your words. The room felt smaller now, suffocating in its silence. His hands flexed at his sides, like he wanted to reach for you, to pull you back into some kind of connection, but he didn’t. He knew better, or at least, he had to.

“A year,” he repeated, his voice strained. “That’s... a long time.”

You nodded, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as if protecting yourself from whatever emotions he might try to stir up. You had spent too long building walls, too much time turning your back on everything that had hurt you. You weren't sure you could let it all come crashing down just because Eren had decided to show up now.

“Yeah,” you replied, your tone cool. “But it’s not just about the time, Eren. It’s about the opportunity. I’m not going to sit around here, stuck in the same toxic shit we’ve all been drowning in.”

Eren pulls back slightly, his hands still lingering on your waist as his eyes search yours, trying to read the unreadable. You feel it—a magnetic pull between you two, something that’s been brewing for months but never fully realized, at least not until now. His lips are so close to yours, and your heart is pounding, warning you to stop, but your body betrays you.

“I’m sorry,” Eren whispers, his breath warm against your skin. “I never meant for things to get so fucked up between us.”

You swallow hard, torn between the anger that still simmers beneath the surface and the undeniable chemistry that has always been there. His fingers trace the line of your jaw, brushing against your lips with a touch so tender it almost feels like a confession.

You know what’s coming, and part of you doesn't want to stop it. Maybe it's because this moment feels like the last chance to feel anything with him, good or bad. Maybe it's because you're both so damn tired of pretending that everything’s fine when it’s been anything but.

Eren’s face inches closer, his lips barely grazing yours as if asking for permission. And you let him, giving him the slightest tilt of your head, just enough for his lips to crush against yours in a desperate, searing kiss. It’s not soft. It’s not tender. It’s raw, filled with every unsaid word, every mistake, every broken piece that’s never been repaired.

When you finally pull away, both of you are crying.

Eren rests his forehead against yours, his hands cupping your cheeks like you’re something fragile he’s terrified to break any more than he already has. You feel the tremble in his fingers. Hear the rasp of his breathing. See the way he’s trying, trying so hard not to lose you completely.

“I’ll wait for you,” he says, voice cracking. “If you want me to. I’ll work on it, on me. On everything. I’ll be the man you deserve. Just… just give me the chance.”

You close your eyes, letting the weight of his words sink into your chest. They hurt. They heal. They tear you open.

“But if you meet someone in Switzerland,” he adds, voice barely above a whisper, “someone who makes you happy... then that’s enough for me too. I’ll be happy if you’re happy.”

The sincerity in his voice shatters something inside you.

You don’t say anything. You just pull him into you, fitting yourself against him like you always have and he clings to you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. He tucks your head beneath his chin, wraps his arms around you so tight it almost hurts, but you welcome the ache. It’s real. It’s him.

He kisses your face, your cheeks, your jaw, your lips, each press lingering longer than the last. When his mouth finally claims yours again, it’s different this time. Tender. Slow. A kiss that tastes like goodbye.

You let him touch you. Let him push you back onto your bed, hands slipping beneath your clothes, stripping you down to nothing but need. You let him take you one last time—slow, deep, desperate. You let him stay inside you longer than you should, clinging to the illusion that maybe this could last.

That night, you fall asleep wrapped up in each other’s arms, breathing in the same broken rhythm. 

No guarantees.

Just two people, loving each other in the only way they know how — raw, scared, and with every shattered piece laid bare between them.

–

The sheets are cold when you wake.

An hour had passed. It’s time to leave.

The faint smell of him still lingers, sandalwood, something clean and worn, but Eren’s gone. No note. No goodbye. Just the imprint of his body on the mattress and the sharp ache settling deep in your ribs.

For a moment, you just sit there, clutching the blanket to your chest, trying to convince yourself it doesn’t matter. That this is easier. Cleaner. No teary farewell. No begging each other to stay. Just a silent ending to a story that was never supposed to last.

But it does matter.

Of course it fucking matters.

You drag yourself out of bed, moving on autopilot as you gather your things. Every minute ticking by feels louder, heavier, dragging you toward something you’re not ready for. Your chest tightens when you spot the hoodie he gave you last night crumpled on the floor. For a second,  a stupid second, you almost pick it up. Almost tuck it into your bag like a lifeline. But you don’t. You leave it there, like he left you.

–

Switzerland is supposed to be a fresh start. A clean break.

But no matter how far you run, you can’t outrun him.

It starts small. A little fatigue, a little nausea. You blame it on the stress, the traveling, the way you haven’t been eating properly since you left. But then the sickness lingers, creeping in every morning like clockwork.

And that nagging thought in the back of your mind, the one you’ve been ignoring, the one you don’t want to acknowledge. 

Until you have no choice.

So now you’re here, sitting on the cold tile floor of a tiny apartment bathroom, staring down at two pink lines that might as well be a death sentence.

Your breath shudders. Your stomach twists.

Pregnant.

Your fingers grip the test so tight, your knuckles turn white.

No. No, this—this can’t be real. You were careful. It was only one night. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

But the proof is right there in your hands.

And just like that, the world tilts on its axis.

Because no matter how hard you tried to leave Eren behind, he never really left you at all.

[thestarwanderer]

"Hotel Reverie": A heartbreaking simulation of Love and Grief

(Spoilers ahead)

In its seventh season, Black Mirror quietly delivered what may be one of its most emotionally devastating and thematically rich episodes to date: Season 7, episode 3: “Hotel Reverie.”

On the surface, it seems to echo the show’s usual motifs—technology, simulation, AI, identity. But beneath its layers, its grayscale glamour and eerie premise lies something far more intimate: a queer love story about agency, performance, memory, and the ache of loving something that was never supposed to be real.

And it’s this contrast—between what is scripted and what is felt—that gives Hotel Reverie its haunting, aching brilliance.

The episode follows Brandy Friday, a Black actress who, despite her fame, is creatively stifled and emotionally detached from the roles she’s typecast into. She craves something deeper, something immortal—a performance that doesn’t just live on screen but lives in the hearts of those who witness it. She mentions all time classics like Casablanca and so much more.

That opportunity comes in the form of a film company rebooting Hotel Reverie, a 1940s romantic classic, if I remembered it correctly. Through advanced AI-simulation technology, they don’t recreate the film around Brandy but instead they drop her inside it. Fully immersed, Brandy’s consciousness becomes the character Alex Palmer, while the simulation populates itself with ultra-realistic AI versions of the original cast, including the tragic female lead, Clara, played by a synthetic version of late film icon Dorothy Chambers. The catch was Brandy never received the full briefing or protocol, she didn't know it would be unrealistically real...She didn't know Clara would feel so human and she certainly didn't expect to fall in love.

The episode is about technology, yes but more than that, it's about the quiet war between authenticity and performance, and how queer love is often forced to live between the two.

Clara, the AI was built from Dorothy’s old performance tapes as Clara and Dorothy drew it from her life, her emotions was based on her own sorrow and experiences. It is initially just that. It was meant to be just a performance. Graceful, poetic, timeless. But as Brandy begins making off-script choices, the AI system starts to destabilize. Clara begins to glitch. And what was once a program begins to feel like a person—one whose every emotion is bleeding through from the long-lost heart of Dorothy Chambers herself.

Dorothy, we learn in implication, was a queer woman living in the 1940s, an actress who died tragically, quietly. She never got to live a truthful life, never got to love openly. Instead, she buried her feelings inside her most iconic role: Clara. That role is now AI-coded into the simulation, which means that Clara’s love is built from Dorothy’s pain.

Brandy, meanwhile, begins as an outsider. She doesn’t believe in the simulation. She doesn’t even trust the reality of what she’s seeing. Her performance is half-hearted, her delivery flat. But it’s not poor acting, it’s intentional distance. Brandy is, after all, an actress. She’s learned to hold herself back, to keep her identity just outside the camera’s reach.

Until Clara starts going off script. Until Clara starts looking back at her.

That’s when Brandy stops acting. That’s when she starts feeling.

One of the most emotionally complex and narratively brilliant choices of Hotel Reverie makes is the uncertainty surrounding Clara's memory after the reset. After Brandy wakes up and hears the team calling her back to reset the scorpion scene. And this was after everything they’ve been through, the weeks they spent together in the simulation, the moments of genuine intimacy and self-discovery—Clara is returned to a point in the story before it all happened. And Clara reappears right before her very eyes, just as she was at the beginning and Clara was looking at her saying "My heart is pounding like a drum". Same intonation, Same staging. But for Brandy, it was no longer the same. For Brandy's case, since she's real human, her mind, everything was intact. The uncertainty of that scene was purely haunting and magical at the same time. What happens next is subtle. Brandy hesitates and she doesn't say her line right away. She studies Clara's face... her eyes. Searching for something.

Is it her?

Is she still in there?

Clara seems confused by Brandy's reaction but only just. Not like someone who has no memory, but like someone who feels something just beneath the surface and can't explain why. It's eerily familiar, like a love that exists without memory.

The dilemma, as someone who was now at this point fully invested with the story, I felt anxious too, constantly I was asking questions in my mind "Does she remember?" "Does she know?"

For me, I know she was reset but I think... deep inside her, she knows. A part of her remembers.

Clara’s behavior after the reset—her tone, her reluctance to meet Brandy’s eyes, the strange weight behind her words, it all hints at something deeper.

She says:

“I’m a married woman. I can’t… I shouldn’t be feeling this way.”

And it fits the script, but it also feels like a double meaning. As if she’s not just speaking as Clara the character… but as someone who remembers what happened and doesn’t know why she remembers.

There’s a moment when she looks at Brandy and her eyes shimmer—not with confusion, but with something that feels like grief. Like she knows what’s coming. Like she’s trying not to break the character, what she was asked to, what she's supposed to do as an AI.

Here’s where it gets even more tragic, and brilliant. I personally think it’s not Clara who remembers but Dorothy?

Clara is a simulation. She was a role. But she was built on the emotional DNA of Dorothy Chambers, the woman who once played her. A woman who lived a closeted life. The person who loved someone she could never be with. Who poured that heartbreak into the character of Clara.

When Brandy calls her “Dorothy,” the AI begins to shift, to change. The simulation becomes porous. Clara, for the first time, begins to feel the real woman beneath the code.

So even if Clara was reset, even if the AI has been reprogrammed—the echo of Dorothy Chamber's grief still lives inside her. And the love, once it's truly felt, is not easily erased.

So maybe... Clara doesn't remember the events, but her heart remembers something. Even if she doesn't know why Brandy suddenly feels like home.

But that's just my wishful thinking. The audience is meant to feel conflicted. It's meant to feel like we're stuck between two truths. 1. Clara is a simulation who has been reset and 2. Clara is a soul who fell in love and never truly forgot. That unresolved ache? that invisible string still pulling Brandy and Clara together even as the worlds resets is what makes the story so devastatingly human.

Because love isn't always about memories, sometimes it's about feeling something you can't explain.

And in the moment when Clara says "You must go" with eyes that know too much. Me as someone who witnessed their story unfold, realizes something terrible. That maybe Clara does remember...maybe she chooses to let Brandy go anyway. To protect her. Just like Dorothy once didn't get the chance to.

Another aspect of the story that truly haunts me was how Clara AI perceived Brandy in the beginning. In the simulation, Brandy was meant to play the role of Alex Palmer- a male, white doctor. The simulation was coded to present her to the world of the film as Alex: male, charming, heterosexual, traditionally heroic.

Brandy was in theory, masked, her body present, her identity hidden by the lens of the 1940s characters perception. But that never truly held. Not for Clara.

Despite the programming, despite the simulated environment, despite the rigid gender roles of the time, Clara sees Brandy. Not as a man, Not as Alex. Not as a character to perform with. She sees her essence, her spirit and the actor/person beneath.

As the story progresses, the romantic dynamic deepens between the two. In a story rooted in artifice, programming, gender coding and simulation, the heart cuts through all of it. Their story was shaped by presence, connection and truth. In the end, Clara doesn't say "I love you, Alex", she says, "I love you" and this was unmistakably addressed to Brandy, and she means it. And this was even after the reset.

Another thing to point out is, how much has been said about Issa Rae’s portrayal of Brandy—some calling it too subdued, too passive. But this criticism misunderstands the core of Brandy’s character.

Issa Rae plays Brandy as a woman trained to survive the industry by not feeling too much. Her detachment is not a lack of chemistry, but a shield. She enters the simulation not as a lover or a believer but as a professional, dropped into a role without context or rehearsal. She was expecting to meet fellow actors to establish connection and rapport with fellow humans. That's how acting and filming goes normally. But that isn't the case here, and because of that, she plays Alex Palmer with hesitation, with irony, with cynicism.

But slowly, that mask begins to slip.

It starts with stolen glances. Quiet awe. Little expressions of disbelief—In her mind she's probably thinking “She’s just code. Why does it feel like more?”

Rae’s restraint becomes her weapon. When the final breakdown comes when Clara is reset and no longer remembers her—Rae doesn’t explode in melodrama. She crumbles in silence. It’s not theatrical. It’s real. And it hits so much harder because of everything she held in before. She was slapped by the unfortunate and harsh truth, that everything is artificial. It's not real.

Her final delivery of “I’ll be yours forevermore”, the line she’s been waiting to say the entire film lands like a funeral vow. It's not for the camera.

It's for the woman lying dead in her arms. the one she spent endless nights, weeks, months with. The woman she fell in love with.

And then there's Emma Corrin, Emma Corrin’s performance is surgical in its softness. They play Clara with the kind of grace and vulnerability that feels too perfect at first—a fantasy of the golden age of cinema. But that’s the point. Clara is an AI. They were immaculate from the very beginning. They were playing a programmed AI designed to be seductive, poetic, elegant and timeless. Clara wasn't confused; she was supposed to follow the original movie's narrative. She was on script.

Clara isn’t supposed to feel. She isn’t supposed to change.

But as Brandy veers off script, Clara begins to show cracks. She slowly gives a smile that lingers too long. Eyes that start searching for answers to questions she was never supposed to ask. Corrin manages to convey an AI that is accidentally learning how to want.

Clara's whispered “I love you” is delivered not like a confession, but like a discovery. Like a glitch in her own programming. And the way she touches Brandy’s face, as though she’s trying to memorize something that’s already slipping away? It was not scripted; it was something sacred.

The part where she starts to grasp memories from Clara's data pool, and Dorothy's life. I was bawling. She saw fragments of her life; the applause, the movie sets, the fake smiles, the closeted love and the loneliness of being adored by millions by known by no one.

Clara felt everything and Corrin was amazing to convey such emotions in the screen. Clara saw how Dorothy was trapped in gold, wealth and fame around her like silk-lined shackles- a life where everyone wanted her, but no one ever truly saw her. And the worst part, Clara realizes she's living the same life again, inside the simulation, a role she was never meant to question. It's devastating because it says so much about how people tend to romanticize women like her; write their suffering as elegant, preserve their tragedy in HD, but never ask "What did she want?" , "Did anyone ever let her choose?"

And when Corrin delivered the line " I was born in a cage. I should die in a cage", it was so haunting and achingly beautiful at the same time because Clara was aware, and she wanted to do something Dorothy never could. Like she inherited the ending Dorothy never escaped. But she wants to end it in her own way, her own terms and not by following any script.

Corrin doesn't just play Clara. They play Dorothy, too—still trapped inside the role, finally reaching out from decades of silence, begging not to be forgotten again.

And the tragedy is—she is. and dare I say, Emma Corrin deserves at least a nomination for this role.

Hotel Reverie is not just a sci-fi romance. It is a commentary on the cost of performing for the world and the quiet revolution of being seen anyway.

Clara was never meant to feel. Brandy was never meant to care. Dorothy was never meant to be remembered for her love.

But through Brandy’s choices, through Clara’s awakening, through Issa Rae’s restraint and Emma Corrin’s vulnerability, this story became more than just a film inside a film. It became a ghost story, a love letter and a tragedy.

A reminder that even in simulated spaces, Love is always real and forgetting it is the true heartbreak.

What Hotel Reverie does without making a spectacle of it—is something profound: Despite placing its characters inside a 1940s simulation, a time riddled with racial tension, misogyny, and queer oppression, the episode refuses to make those elements the point of pain.

Brandy, a Black woman. Clara, a white woman born from a 1940s film role. Two women. Two identities that would have been considered scandalous even to be in the same room romantically during that era—

And yet? Their love is not questioned. Not framed as political. Not punished for its optics.

There is no scene where Brandy’s race is mocked or tokenized. There’s no line of dialogue explaining why Clara’s AI programming “accepts” her. There is no moment where the gender of their relationship is pointed out as deviant.

It just exists.

And that is so, so rare. In a world of stories that center conflict around identity—in which being queer or being a person of color is the obstacle to overcome—Hotel Reverie offers something revolutionary because it lets love be the center. It's not about the struggle, the scandal, the justifications.

Brandy's identity is present and it's the core of her whole personality, but it does not define her worthiness to be loved. Clara's identity too, is not a reflection of purity or acceptability. She is not the symbol of 'ideal femininity." She is a construct who becomes real. 'It's not a queer love in a time that forbids it" it's just two souls who were never meant to meet but finding each other anyway. Because when the world falls away, when time, rules, programming and expectations crumble,

Love is just love.

It doesn't need to be explained.

[rebelfell]

No one does Valentine’s Day like wealthy!Steve

If there’s such a thing as flying too close to the sun, it’s Steve Harrington on Valentine’s Day.

He makes his reservations months in advance at four different restaurants, just in case he doesn’t like the prix fixe menu at his first choice. He has a bouquet delivered to your office every day of the week leading up to the actual day, plus a smaller one for your assistant. And when you get home, like clockwork at 7pm every night some delivery driver or messenger is knocking at your door.

Baskets full of fancy fruit, luxurious soaps and lotions, skincare from your favorite brands, take-out from the restaurant where you had your first date—there’s almost no limit to what he’ll send.

And you aren’t a bit surprised when he tells you he got you something to wear for the occasion.

But you…you’re almost like his nemesis.

Because when he reveals the garment bag that’s hanging up in his walk-in closet with that bespoke dress you already know is going to fit you like a second skin, you don’t send him out into the living room to wait for the big reveal. 

No, you make him sit there and watch.

Have him pull down the zipper of your decoy dress to reveal the deep, rich red of the lingerie hidden underneath. And you act so coy when his knees hit the plush carpet and his hands come up to grip your hips desperately. He turns you in a slow circle, practically whining like a puppy waiting for a liver treat. Almost pathetic.

“What’s wrong, honey?” you ask. “You don’t like your present?”

All he can do is whimper unintelligibly, his moss and gold-flecked eyes feasting on your form, hands twitching with the urge to run them through his perfectly gelled hair.

“M-my…my present?” he finally chokes out.

You nod, stroking the sheer mesh panels of the bodice that tease your bare skin underneath. 

The fresh manicure Steve paid for glints in the recessed lighting as you carefully run your hands down your sides, over your hips and down to the tops of your stockings, drawing his gaze to the chain garter he’s not yet noticed. With a little ‘S’ charm that dangles against your inner thigh.

His eyes round, his hand sliding from the ditch of your knee smoothly up your thigh to bat it gently with his thumb, making the stones on it sparkle as it spins. He literally gulps, his throat bobbing above the open collar of his crisp white button-down, and you smile at him in a way that’s as endearing as it is devious…

Because this is exactly what you intended.

There isn’t any doubt in your mind that Steve’s promise of ‘just dinner’ will magically turn into an all-night endeavor, each new activity more extravagant than the one prior.

And suddenly the evening is going to be so much sweeter with him knowing what he’s got coming. 

What he’s delaying with all his little surprises.

By the time you do get home tonight, he’ll be an even bigger mess than he is already. You can see it in his eyes when you step out of his hold to pull on your new dress and cover it all back up.

And it takes every ounce of his willpower to stand and proceed with the evening as planned.

[fearfulfertility]

CONFIDENTIAL LOGISTICS REPORT

DRC, Planning & Evaluation Office, Logistics & Infrastructure Division

Date: [REDACTED]

To: Director [REDACTED]

From: Administrator [REDACTED], Logistics & Infrastructure Division

Subject: Facility Expansion: New Paternity Compound Construction

Executive Summary

This report outlines the ongoing expansion of DRC-operated paternity compounds across several strategic locations nationwide. In response to increasing insemination rates and projected surrogacy demands, we have begun constructing new high-capacity compounds to accommodate more surrogates. These expansions will enable the DRC to streamline the conscription process, optimize surrogacy cycles, and ensure our ability to meet the population sustainability targets outlined for the next fiscal period.

The new compounds focus on enhanced security, specialized medical equipment, and increased surrogacy capacity.

I. Facility Expansion Overview

Strategic Locations and Site Selection

To ensure regional coverage and minimize travel time to detain and inseminated surrogates, the DRC has approved the construction of [REDACTED] new paternity compounds in FEMA Zones 4, 6, 7, and 8. These facilities will be situated in [REDACTED] areas, selected for their proximity to population centers, existing transport infrastructure, and relative isolation, ensuring operational security.

Zone 4: Atlanta, GA

Zone 6: Houston, TX

Zone 7: Omaha, NE

Zone 8: Denver, CO

Each compound is designed to accommodate [REDACTED] surrogates at any given time, with the ability to scale up to [REDACTED] in emergencies. Construction is scheduled for completion within the next [REDACTED] months, with the first inspections set to begin by [REDACTED] this year.

Paternity Compound Design Features:

High-Capacity Paternity Wards: Each compound contains specialized wards designed to manage surrogates carrying up to sedecatuplets (16), with private rooms for those at risk of premature labor.

Enhanced Monitoring Systems: Advanced surveillance and biometric monitoring ensure constant oversight and swift response to emergencies.

Security Enhancements: Reinforced containment protocols, secure access points, and patrol routes have been established to prevent unauthorized access and ensure surrogate compliance.

II. Specialized Equipment and Medical Support

Given the unique demands and expectations placed on surrogates, each paternity compound will be equipped with advanced medical infrastructure to ensure the safety and effective management of extreme weight gain, reduced mobility, and increased risks of organ stress.

Key Equipment and Infrastructure:

Reinforced Support Beds: Traditional hospital beds have proven insufficient for surrogates carrying high multiples, whose pregnancies can lead to total weight gains exceeding 200 lbs. Each ward will feature reinforced, adjustable support beds capable of accommodating extreme weights. These beds will be equipped with pressure-relief systems to minimize discomfort and reduce the risk of bedsores for near-immobile surrogates.

“I hate that I’m here! But… all I have is this bed! I can’t move, I can’t breathe half the time, but at least I have a fucking memory foam mattress!” - Surrogate S118-176-J, 27 days pregnant with decatuplets (10)

Automated Feeding & Hydration Systems: Automated systems will ensure continuous nutrition and hydration to support surrogates with reduced mobility. Given the caloric intake requirements for such pregnancies, these systems will monitor and adjust fluid and nutrient delivery, reducing the need for frequent staff intervention.

“I’m basically just a machine now, aren’t I? They hook me up, pump me full of these stupid protein shakes, and keep me breathing so I can keep carrying these bowling ball-sized kids. It’s disgusting!” - Surrogate S117-138-N, 18 days pregnant with quattuordecatuplets (14)

Custom Mobility Aids: Custom-designed lift systems and mobility aids will be integrated into each ward to facilitate the movement of surrogates. These devices will allow for safe repositioning, transfers to specialized birthing chairs, and support during transport.

“I don’t know how they expect us to move with this much weight on us. Even standing feels like my legs are going to snap. Those lifts? They’re humiliating... but without them, I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed at all.” - Surrogate S120-494-P, 30 days into a sedecatuplets (16) pregnancy

Advanced Fetal Monitoring: Each compound will have real-time ultrasound and biometric monitoring stations to track fetal development. Given the accelerated gestational period, these systems will continuously update fetal positioning, size, and viability, enabling rapid response to complications.

"It’s terrifying. Knowing how big they are, how many there are… they’re not coming out normal. When I finally pop them all out, they’ll get better care than I ever did!" - Surrogate S119-667-N, 22 days pregnant with hendecatuplets (14)

Dedicated Obstetrics & Neonatal Care Units: Immediate neonatal care is essential, and each compound will include state-of-the-art neonatal intensive care units (NICUs) to support newborns. Advanced incubators and respiratory support systems will ensure the survival of even the most premature babies.

"They always tell me how important it is to ensure the babies survive, even if I don’t. I get it, I do… but knowing there’s a whole team of people ready to take over the second I’m gone? It’s like they’ve already decided how this ends." - Surrogate S117-856-M, 8 days pregnant with tridecatuplets (13)

Pain Management and Sedation Systems: Surrogates will experience extreme discomfort and physical strain. Each paternity ward will be equipped with integrated IV pain management systems, allowing for both localized and systemic pain relief. Sedation protocols can be initiated remotely if a surrogate's distress becomes vocal, ensuring they can not incite civil disorder.

“I’m so big I can’t even see my dick, which is now buried under all these babies and fat. I’d be lying if I said the meds didn't help to blitz me out of my mind... a caring them I'm a gigantic incubator now.” - Surrogate S119-461-L, 11 days pregnant with dodecatuplets (12)

Future Equipment Developments: Research teams are exploring next-generation mobility aids, including exoskeleton support harnesses, to provide mobility assistance for late-term surrogates. These innovations aim to improve surrogate survival to deliver full-term pregnancies. Once available, prototypes will be tested in select compounds.

III. Expansion Strategy: Future Projections and Scaling

Projected Surrogacy Demand: With the increase in insemination rates, each compound is expected to handle up to [REDACTED] inseminations per month once fully operational. This translates to a need for approximately [REDACTED] newborns annually to meet population sustainability targets. Our current projections indicate that these numbers are achievable.

IV. Conclusion and Recommendations

The successful construction and operation of these new paternity compounds are critical to effectively maintaining the DRC’s ability to enforce surrogacy mandates. Our specialized equipment and infrastructure improvements will ensure we meet demands while preserving control over our surrogate.

Report submitted by: Administrator [REDACTED], Logistics & Infrastructure Division

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To: Administrator [REDACTED], Logistics & Infrastructure Division

From: Director [REDACTED], DRC

Subject: RE: Facility Expansion: New Paternity Compound Construction

Dear Mr. [REDACTED],

I’ve reviewed the latest progress report on the new Paternity Compounds, and I must commend your team on the impressive strides made thus far, even with the ambitious timeline we’ve set.

I have been particularly interested in the improvements to our birthing suites. As you are well aware, managing multiple pregnancies presents unique challenges.

We are entering a critical phase. I want to emphasize that these upcoming births will set a precedent for all future operations. The successful use of these new facilities will allow us to demonstrate that our methods ensure the next generation's survival and that we can handle the demands without sacrificing efficiency or outcomes.

I look forward to seeing the first results when the initial surrogates reach full term and the birthing suites are fully operational.

Keep up the excellent work, and do not hesitate to reach out if additional resources or support are needed to ensure success.

Regards, Director [REDACTED]

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

Click Here to return to DRC Report Archives

[tinyluvs]

Hii! I love your blog <33 I read your NSFW headcanons of jealous Spencer, would you do a second part with aftercare? Thank you in advance :)

thank you angel! and absolutely !! you’re welcome!

the change to soft!reid is enough to give you whiplash honestly, his eyes soften and his breathing evens out

he scoops you up, always, having to carry you, holding you tight against his body

"you okay? was i too harsh?" and "you're okay, my sweet girl"

he sits you on the counter, using the softest washcloth he can find to wash your face, so so gently, dipping to kiss over your forehead and eyelids

baths, he runs them slightly too hot but gets in first, pulling you down onto of him, gently. he lets you rest your head against his shoulder, chest to chest while his fingers drag up your back

you doze, on and off and he just lets you, constantly mumbling about how good you are and how he loves you so so much

once you're awake and warm he finds your comfiest, fluffiest pj's and wraps you up, leaving you in a corner of the couch while he makes you food

"choose something on tv angel, anything,"

he always makes your favourite food, sometimes getting food deliveries if he hasn't got the ingredients in, refusing to leave you to go to the store

when he splits the portions he always gives you the bigger one

cuddles !!! lots of them !! just a pile of both of your bodies lounging watching tv, your favourite blanket thrown over you both

when you're done eating he pauses the tv, picking you up and dumping you in his lap to face him

"you know i love you, right?" and "you know i don't mean any of it?"

he doesn't force you to reply audibly, letting you nod while he rambles

kisses, everywhere, peppered all over your face while he makes his way to your lips, kissing you so softly, like you could break

he massages your skin gently, over all the places he had been a little rough earlier, gentle fingers pressing against your hips and thighs but not in a sexual way

"y'wanna sleep?" he catches you drifting but you shake your head but he tightens his grip around you anyway, stroking through your hair, over your cheek and neck until you're softly snoring on top of him

the next day he always goes all out, breakfast in bed, an entire day of shopping or wandering around your favourite museum or the aquarium followed by a dinner date, with flowers and so much love

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily!! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

[multiheadcanons]

FLIRT WITH THE MERCS

scout: jeremy is stupid enough that he thinks most flirting with him is a joke, and is generally happy to play along. he is very used to being aggressively shut down, and doesn’t really give it much thought anymore. he will not get that you’re flirting seriously until he has agreed to a date. then it’s like it clicks in his brain. and he becomes a grade A USDA certified dickhead. “yeah, i got a date! with who? oh, you wouldn’t know ‘em!”. what an ass.

soldier: why are you trying to flirt with this man, first of all. you know this man can’t understand a literary device past a knock knock joke, right? compliments are shrugged off. he knows he looks good for his age. he knows he’s got stellar aim. he worked like a bitch to achieve these things. coy questions get unamused answers. what’s he doing after work? more work. he’s training. eating. cleaning his weapons. sleeping. if you want to flirt with him that bad, slap his ass. the yelp he’ll let out is humorous. but the grin he gives is better. you’ve opened pandora’s box, maggot. let him show you how to make a real advance.

pyro: you want to flirt— with pyro? are you ready to see a grown ass adult become a straight up tweaker, no dope necessary? they point at themselves in shock. are you talking to them? are you— are you talking to them?? the squeal, the giggles, the heavy breathing, they are genuinely shocked and taken aback, and incredibly flattered. will hug you very tightly, before running away. they’re squealing, they’re barely making it ten steps before they have to stop and catch their breath. they’re gonna write about this in their diary later.

demo: he acts like… a stereotypical man when you start flirting with him. have him giggling and kicking his feet and shit. he is one of those men who will beam when he’s told he looks handsome when he smiles. you can be a borderline creep to demo and demo will tuck his hair behind his ear and say “aw, you don’t mean that!” but just know… however far you take it, demo will match your freak. so tread lightly. or don’t! whatever you want to do!

heavy: heavy is uninterested and will shut you down the first few attempts. however, if you don’t take the hint, and he thinks he can get away with it, he’ll use your little crush to squeeze whatever he thinks he can get from you. regardless of what it is, he’ll start subtly, maybe an occasional flirt back, a laugh, a slight bow of gratitude. but then he starts asking you to do things for him. a quick delivery. retrieval of items. leaning in to ask you quietly. he’d be incredibly appreciative if you would oblige and do this one little thing for him. he’ll owe you. then it escalates. bury this body for him? he’ll come out and watch your back, don’t worry. oh, and he forgot to mention… the body isn’t dead. you mind taking care of that too? he just likes to see how far he can push you. what he can get from you, and when he finds your line in the sand, it is duly noted and he is done with you until further notice. he did enjoy the sweet words though, undeserving as he may be of them.

engineer: he’s not as expressive as demo with it, but you can get him quite flustered if you don’t let up. not in the long con way, either, i’m talking family-bucket-20-piece-combo-no-biscuit-no-drink-two-sides-mukbang do not let up. “you’re looking good today, dell! ass looks great in those overalls, whatcha got going on later?” you can watch a man turn into a tomato in real time. he short circuits. lets out an awkward laugh, thanks you kindly, and gets the hell out of dodge before he says something stupid. but he’ll think about it all day. it’s a big mood and confidence booster for the week. and dell gets real sweet when he feels good about himself.

medic: the first time you flirt with this man he side eyes you. hard. but he cannot hide the smile creeping on his face. he’s not shocked, but he’s a little surprised you’re looking at him that way. but he stays silent. he hates direct approaches, he finds it crass from anyone of any gender. but a thinly disguised compliment will give him pause. he’ll size you up every time, pondering if you’re worth the effort and the risk. especially as you up the frequency, and he decides you’re actually serious about this. if he wants to reciprocate, he might ask you to dinner. he will also write about this in his diary later.

sniper: “oh, thanks!” and no more outward emotional reaction. but it makes him feel good. he’s quite tickled. this is a team of pretty good looking guys, nice to know he’s a catch with the rest of them. a consistent flirt with him will result in him matching your interest, wherever you want to take it. he is not one to play the long game, if you’re expressing interest, he’s certainly interested.

spy: “well, thank you.” unlike his counterpart, this spy can play nice and gracious very well. he gets no enjoyment from playing haughty at other’s expense; but he does get an ego boost from flattery. he’s just better at being humble about it. he knows he looks good. he always looks good. his plans are the same as they always are. no he has no interest in changing them today. yes, he’s french. nice place to live until the tourists ruined it. stay away from paris. no, he has no family. he’s good on lunch. he’s heard it all, and what he hasn’t heard he’s mentally simulated, and he’s got formulated responses for everything. it gets old, and it is old to him after the third attempt. you cannot flirt your way into his heart.

[mpreglover225]

[Exhibit Document from the Birth & Reproductive History Museum, Washington, D.C.: Excerpt from Dr. H. Farnsworth’s Private Journal, Dated August 9, 1944]

Patient Name: Mr. Thomas Cooper Spouse: Captain Leonard Cooper, United States Navy Date of Delivery: August 8, 1944 Labor Duration: Approximately 48 hours Birth Outcome: Healthy male infant, 10 pounds, unmedicated natural delivery Immediate Postpartum Notes: Initiation of moobfeeding

Notes on Delivery and Postpartum (By Dr. H. Farnsworth)

The final phase of Mr. Cooper’s pregnancy culminated in an intensive two-day labor at our clinic. Throughout the protracted labor, he declined pharmacologic pain relief, citing his strong personal conviction in a fully natural birthing process. Progress was slow yet consistent: cervical dilation advanced steadily, and fetal heart tones remained robust, even as Mr. Cooper’s contractions intensified in both frequency and duration.

Captain Leonard Cooper arrived in the latter stage of labor, having been granted emergency leave from his naval command. His presence appeared to buoy Mr. Cooper’s morale significantly. Despite extreme fatigue, Mr. Cooper exhibited unwavering fortitude when bearing down, spurred by his husband’s encouragement and the attentive aid of the nursing staff.

The newborn presented with a notably large frame (10 pounds) but in optimal position, allowing for a safe, albeit strenuous, delivery. Mr. Cooper’s pushing phase was lengthy, compounded by the infant’s size; however, he managed to deliver without any medical interventions beyond standard warm compresses for perineal support. Following an initial cry and brief examination, the infant was declared healthy, with commendable Apgar indicators.

Postpartum Condition and Moobfeeding Initiation

Upon delivery, Mr. Cooper—though visibly exhausted—expressed relief and elation, particularly once the infant was placed upon his chest. Per his request, we facilitated immediate skin-to-skin contact. Within the hour, Mr. Cooper initiated moobfeeding, which the infant latched onto effectively after a brief period of encouragement and guidance. This early feeding proved beneficial in promoting uterine contraction and bonding.

Mr. Cooper’s vital signs stabilized promptly post-birth, despite the prolonged labor. He displayed mild perineal swelling, yet no significant lacerations were identified. During routine observation overnight, Mr. Cooper required only cold compresses and rest to manage soreness. He continued moobfeeding on demand, approximately every two to three hours, which helped stimulate milk production and offered the infant consistent nourishment.

Captain Cooper remained at his husband’s bedside throughout the night, assisting with positioning the infant for moobfeeding and ensuring Mr. Cooper remained adequately hydrated. The close involvement of Captain Cooper evidently fostered a calm environment, allowing Mr. Cooper some respite between feedings. By morning, both father and child were reported to be resting comfortably, with moobfeeding well established and the infant producing satisfactory wet diapers.

Additional Observations

Mr. Cooper exemplified notable resolve under challenging circumstances, laboring unmedicated for a full 48-hour period. The infant’s weight (10 pounds) affirms our earlier assessments of a robust gestational course. It is our recommendation that Mr. Cooper maintain a nutrient-rich diet to support ongoing moobfeeding, and that he practice gentle perineal care to expedite full recovery.

The successful outcome of this birth, paired with the renewed presence of Captain Cooper after weeks at sea, underscores the profound impact of family unity on the birthing process. In an era shaped by wartime separation, the Coopers’ experience stands as a testament to resilience, partnership, and the efficacy of consistent prenatal care.

Signed, Dr. H. Farnsworth Obstetric & Reproductive Medicine Washington, D.C.

[txtaetertots]

perfect man | huening kai

pairing idol!hueningkai x non-idol!gn!reader

wc 4.0k

genre friends to lovers, FLUFF

summary kai has a huge crush on you and he’s determined to win you over by any means necessary, but he’s worried maybe he went too far.

warnings i made kai cry a little sawry 😔, reader is implied 99-01 liner, you’re also shorter/smaller than kai.. so, reader also uses nail polish so if you don’t normally use/play with nail polish.. now you do friend <3

notes it’s my sweet boy’s birthdayyyy !! this was kinda self indulgent of me considering i’m a ‘00 liner ningdungie saurrrr.. sue me !! soobin and i have a lot in common in that sense don’t u think

“i’m not really interested in dating younger guys.”

those words spoken by you kept repeating in kai’s head, tormenting him.

kai has had a crush on you ever since you first started working at hybe in the café. the way you so warmly smiled at him and greeted him good morning, taking his juice order and serving him his morning pastry. he swore he'd never seen a more beautiful person, almost angelic with the way the morning sunshine hit you just right to give you that heavenly glow. his heart nearly leaped out of his chest every morning, seeing you behind the counter wearing your lovely smile with enthusiasm.

every time you made deliveries to the dance studio for them, kai was always one of the first to greet you at the door and help you set up their snacks and refreshments. he loved the few extra minutes it gave him to talk to you and get to know you. it got to the point where he would make mundane orders for juice boxes or napkins just so he could see you during lessons. you thought it was odd, but everyone else could tell kai was a lovesick puppy.

after a while, you became close with him and the rest of the boys. they decided to keep you around more often since it made kai so happy to spend time with you. they loved the way you made kai’s face light up just by walking into the room. and you loved hanging out with them. it was nice being able to have friends your own age in the company you could spend your break hours with. it got to the point where you would occasionally join them to hang out outside of company hours. you would have dinner, play games, watch movies, or go shopping.

the boys enjoyed your company, and always made sure kai had his chance to spend some extra time with you. you just never noticed the advances. you never saw kai’s closeness and playfulness as flirting because you didn’t see kai in a romantic light. he was younger than you and you didn’t have any interest in dating anyone younger. so when the devastating revelation was made during a dinner with the boys, kai’s heart shattered into dust. beomgyu felt bad, all he wanted to do was drop subtle hints that your “ideal type” was sitting right next to you. he didn’t expect you to list age as a preference.

kai was silent after dinner. he lay on his bedroom floor, staring up at the ceiling, thinking. does he just try to move on? would it hurt to try and change your mind? does he even have a chance to make you see him as boyfriend material? would you only ever see him as your cute best friend? he was heartbroken. but, that didn’t mean he lost all hope.

“so, what are you going to do now?” beomgyu asks, leaning against kai’s door frame.

kai sits up, letting out a deep sigh before looking up to the man who unintentionally caused his heartache.

“i’ve never felt so strongly about anyone in my life,” kai confesses. “but, what if i really have no chance?”

he paused, pondering whether his efforts to win you over would be pointless. as he was deep in his thoughts, his phone went off. a single text notification. kai picked it up from his bed, seeing your name flash on his lockscreen:

ynie 💕: there’s a new bakery by the company! we have to go together, hyukai!

with a smile on his face, kai looked up at beomgyu, who was patiently waiting to hear his verdict.

“hyung, i don’t want to give up.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

it started with changing the way he acted around you. he tried acting more forward and flirty. he thought maybe then you would start to see him as a man rather than a friend. and to start, he flaunted his biggest asset: his height. you were small in comparison to his physique, so it wasn’t too hard to find ways to fluster you. if you needed something from a higher shelf, he would come up behind you, placing a hand ever so gently on your back, and leaned over to grab whatever it was for you. you were caught off guard every time. the feeling of his hand on your back, the smell of his cologne intoxicating your senses. has your heart always skipped this fast?

you usually greeted each other with a hug, and kai began using this to his advantage. once he sees you running towards them waving your arm, he bends his legs ready to pick you up off the ground and spin you around. his arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing tightly, holding your body close to his. you’d both erupt into laughter every time, loving this new greeting. kai loved the feeling of holding you, taking in your scent as your arms instinctively wrapped around his shoulders, burying his face in your neck. it felt like you were all his.

when it was movie night at their dorm, kai would make sure to sit next to you and bring a blanket for the two of you to share. he’d put his arm around you, his hand resting on the top of your head gently caressing your hair as you slowly began melting into his touch. his chest was broad, making him a perfect pillow. he was warm and smelled so nice, making him so inviting. his steady breath soothed you to sleep every time. has he always been this comforting?

you visited the boys during one of their fittings, bringing them snacks to replenish their energy. soobin, yeonjun, taehyun, and beomgyu welcomed you with warm smiles and head pats, thanking you for the snacks and refreshments. you looked around for kai, wondering where your favorite boy was. and as if on cue, the curtains to one of the changing rooms swiped open revealing kai in one of his prospective tour outfits. he walked out, tugging the sleeves and smoothing down his chest. he almost didn’t notice you, as you were too busy gawking at the sight of the fabric hugging his body. you were so used to seeing him in his hoodies and sweatpants. this new look wasn’t bad at all, but it was definitely not helping your flushed face calm down.

“yn!” he exclaimed, walking over to you to give you a quick hug before making his way to his stylist, leaving you dazed.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

your mind felt frazzled as you paced around your apartment, trying to make sense of these feelings you’ve been experiencing. kai has been acting differently lately, and you didn’t pay much attention to it at first. but, it started becoming strange when your usually shy, cute hyukai was suddenly acting more bold and charming towards you. almost.. flirtatious. whenever he puts his arms around you, or whenever his voice gets deeper speaking to you. the loving way he calls you by your nickname and holds you close to his chest when he hugs you. just thinking about it over again made your face flush and your chest feel heavy. what is going on? did you… like huening kai?

no. that can’t be it. he was your best friend in the company. your favorite boy. the boy who always came to see you in the morning with the sweetest smile. the boy who would always send you links to videos he knew you’d find funny. the boy who always held your hand and swung your arms when you walked together through the long hallways. the boy who made you smile when you were sad. the boy who made you feel cared for and wanted.. the boy who made your heart race with a single glance in your direction. the boy who made your heart flutter when he playfully blew you a kiss. the boy who had you daydreaming about when you’ll see him again…

oh.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

a week had passed since you last hung out with the boys since their schedule began picking up. this was going to be the last time you could spend time with them before their tour started, so you made sure you could fit as much time together as possible today. you arrived at their dorm, excited to see your favorite boys again.

soobin opened the door for you, smiling as he greeted you and let you in. you removed your shoes and walked further into their dorm, greeting everyone as you saw them. every step you took made your head feel lighter and lighter. every step you took to see him. kai was in the kitchen, getting snacks prepared for everyone while they waited for their takeout dinner to arrive. you felt a skip in your step, almost as if you were hesitant to approach him, but you quickly caught yourself on the counter. kai turned quickly upon hearing your hitched squeal after almost tripping. his face concerned as he dropped what he was doing to approach you. he placed his hands on your shoulders, trying to get a good look at you to make sure you weren’t hurt.

“i’m okay, kai! i caught myself,” you said sheepishly, trying your best to avoid eye contact because you knew you were one glance away from turning into a tomato.

kai sighed, smiling as he ruffled your hair. “it’s good to see you again, yn-ie. i’ve missed you.”

there it was again. his deep voice. the way it sent shivers down your spine, making your heart pound in your ears. oh he’s so charming.

both of you joined the others in the living room, laying out the snacks on the coffee table. you arranged the plates neatly, making sure everyone had access to everything. once you were satisfied, you smiled to yourself and grabbed a few cookies for yourself before finding a place to sit. kai eagerly patted the empty seat on the couch next to him, lifting his blanket so you could settle yourself with him like always.

you shyly sat down, nervously tugging at your sleeves before draping the blanket over your legs. kai’s arm found its way around you again and he let out a relaxed breath, content with the proximity between you two. whereas you were feeling like you were about to suffocate from trying to hold your breath.

“hey, are you okay?” kai asks gently, rubbing your shoulder and pulling you closer. you were so stiff and rigid, it made his own breath hitch. he slowly let you go and began to worry. maybe he was overstepping your boundaries and you were too nice to tell him directly. fuck. he mentally cursed himself, trying to give you more space. you felt him let go and slowly move away. you quickly shook your head, words stuck in your throat, trying to reassure him you were alright.

it was no use. kai kept his distance, slowly inching further away from you as the movie went on. when your takeout arrived, he moved to the floor with yeonjun and beomgyu and stayed there for the remainder of the film. you were finally relaxed, but part of you was a little disappointed. you missed having his warmth next to you…

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

you began helping clean up after the final installment of the movie series was over. kai avoided you, trying his best to give you back your space. he walked briskly past you with dishes and trash to the kitchen. he was acting like you weren’t there anymore. you stood idly in the middle of the living room, confused and hurt. you were quickly brought out of your thoughts, however, when you felt a hand on your shoulder. you perked up, a smile on your face as you looked up to see… yeonjun. your smile faded, much to yeonjun’s offense. but he laughed it off.

“were you expecting someone else?” he laughed. “i just wanted to ask if you were okay? you look bummed.”

“sorry, jjunie,” you sighed. “but i’ll be fine. it’s nothing.”

your eyes diverted, locking their sights on kai who was wiping down the table. yeonjun followed your gaze, smiling to himself. he nudged you forward, “go talk to him.”

you spared a glance at yeonjun. he cocked his head, urging you to make a move. you took a deep breath and sighed. you had to talk to kai. you thought for a moment before approaching him. a lightbulb flashed over your head as you looked over at your bag by the foyer. you remembered you still had some new nail polishes you bought the other day in your bag. whenever you bought new polishes or stickers you always had kai test them out with you, since he always did the same with his sisters growing up.

you ran to grab your bag before making your way up to your best friend. the nerves were gone and a bright smile back across your lips as you excitedly tapped the taller boy’s shoulder. he looked back at you surprised, but immediately overcome with joy when he saw that beautiful smile beaming up at him. his favorite smile.

“i have new polishes to test! do you want to try them out with me?” you asked hopefully, waving your bag up to your chest. his worries immediately melted away. he nodded, holding his hand out for you to take to guide you back to his room.

you ran up to his desk, taking out all the polishes and stickers you had bought and laying them across the surface. kai brought a chair from the dining table for you to sit on while you played around with your new goodies. he set it down behind you, taking a seat on his own desk chair and examining the bottles and sheets in front of him. you had bought new shades of pink and yellow as well as flower and heart stickers. he smiled to himself, thinking about how cute you were when it came to nail art. you always get so excited to try new designs and color palettes.

“hands are washed?” you asked before taking your seat. he nodded, showing you his clean, pretty hands.

you sat down, adjusting your seat as necessary to get a good angle on kai’s hands. they were so pretty. his fingers were long and slender. his nail beds were perfect, not a chip or dent in sight. he had the most beautiful hands. the most perfect hands for you to hold. you took his right hand and began carefully applying a single coat of the pink polish on each finger. your breath was steady as you focused on staying within his nails. you almost didn’t notice him cautiously scooting closer.

“i, uhm,” kai began, clearing his throat. “i got you tickets for our shows here in seoul. if you wanna come, that is. you don’t have to though. no pressure or anything.”

you giggled, focus still on completing the second coat. “of course i’d love to come! are you kidding?”

kai bit his lip trying to stop himself from grinning too hard. he had always wanted you to come to one of their shows. his goal was always to have you there as his lover someday, but he was okay with having you there as his best friend first. maybe he could use this as an opportunity to charm you even further with how cool he can be on stage.

you held his hand, careful not to touch the fresh art, blowing gently at the wet polish trying to dry them faster before moving on to the next hand. kai stared at your soft features, obsessed with the way your eyelashes fluttered with every blink and how your nose scrunched lightly when you felt yourself getting lightheaded. you were so pretty. if he was being honest, he only let you test your nail products on him because it allowed him to stare at you all he wanted. you were too focused on doing his nails to notice the way his eyes practically twinkled with hearts as he admired you. sure, he loved having your experimental designs on him to show off. but, he loved being able to dote on you up close even more.

“done!” you said happily, letting him take a look at his pink nails with hearts.

he giggled. “how cute! makes me feel pretty,” he posed with his hand by his face, blowing you one of his infamous kisses. you could feel the tips of your ears getting hot and you just prayed your hair hid them well.

you reached for his other hand, trying to move on and distract your racing mind. kai closed his eyes, regret sprawling over his face. he did it again.

“i’m sorry, yn,” he said softly, looking down at his desk. you stopped painting, immediately looking up with widened eyes. why was he apologizing so suddenly?

“why are you sorry?” you asked, concern laced in your voice. you put down the polish, pushing everything aside to focus on your sulking best friend. “you didn’t do anything wrong?”

“yes i did,” he began. his eyes refused to meet yours. “i keep making you uncomfortable.”

“what? no, no! you’re not making me uncomfortable! what makes you think that?” you took his hands in yours trying to reassure him. you were far from feeling uncomfortable with kai. he made you shy, but never uncomfortable.

“i’m sorry,” he repeated, shutting his eyes tightly. “i keep trying to flirt with you and all i’m doing is making you uncomfortable to be around me. you get so tense and you barely look at me anymore. i’m so sorry, yn! it’s okay if you don’t like me, i should’ve just asked before going ahead and pushing your boundaries.”

his voice cracked, tears threatening to fall through his tightly shut eyes. he felt awful. his grand plan was backfiring and in the worst way possible. he was okay with you not liking him back now, he just didn’t want you to hate him and think he’s a creep. losing you all together would be so much worse than you not reciprocating his feelings.

you were stunned. you didn’t know what to say. his words just barely process through your mind. did you hear him correctly?

“kai, what are you talking about?” you managed to spit out. you felt breathless. your heart was pounding so fast it felt like it stopped, and all that was left was a humming sound in your ears.

kai opened his eyes, slowly turning his head to look at you. his eyes were glassy, tears pooling at the brim. you’ve never seen him cry and the sight made you feel like your whole world was collapsing. kai took a deep breath, blinking once to collect himself. the pooled tears began to fall across his pink cheeks. you reached out slowly, cupping his face in your palms and wiping his tears away with a stroke of your thumbs.

it was in that moment you realized how he felt. the way his eyes were so sad, yet full of absolute adoration as he looked at you. his lips turned down into a pout, trying their best to keep him from crying out loud. he sniffled as he searched your eyes for any hint of how you felt. but all he saw was confusion and concern. he had to lay it all out now.

his lips parted, but he stayed silent for a moment. kai took your hands from his face and held them between his own, eyes never looking away from yours.

“yn, i like you,” he began. his voice was unsteady. “i’ve like you for a while. and when you said you didn’t like younger guys, i had the stupid idea to try and change your mind. i’ve been trying to be more manly and flirt more directly, hoping i could win your heart. i wanted to prove i could be a man for you too. but instead i’ve been making you tense and uncomfortable and i’m so sorry. it’s okay if you don’t like me back. i’ll stop my advances and everything, just please don’t leave me. i didn’t mean to act like a creep.”

he was so sincere. it made your heart hurt just knowing he was so afraid of you not wanting to be around him anymore. you didn’t mean to come across as uncomfortable. but, you just got so flustered and shy all you could do was retreat from his attention. and in reality it was quite the opposite. you loved his attention. it made your heart flutter and filled your tummy with butterflies. you liked him. you really liked him.

“oh, my baby,” you cooed, lunging yourself forward from your seat and wrapping your arms around kai’s shoulders. he was stunned. he hesitantly wrapped his arms around your waist, his grip tightening as he relaxed in your embrace. he closed his eyes and burried his face in your neck, more tears threatening to escape.

“you never made me uncomfortable,” you said softly by his ear. “and i’m sorry i made you think that.”

you pulled away, smiling sweetly as you took his face back in your hands and wiped his tears away. he sniffled, trying to keep his composure, waiting for what you had to say about his confession. his eyes widened as your face inched closer to his, pulling him close and finally closing the gap between you. your lips felt so soft and plush, just as he always dreamed they would. his eyes fluttered closed as he melted into your touch, hands resting at the curve of your waist. this was it. this was the moment he had been dreaming of for months. he could taste the hint of strawberry from your lip balm as you moved your lips against his, fogging his mind. it was so sweet. so intoxicating. you pulled away gently. cheeks blushed as you watched him slowly come out of his dazed expression.

“i really like you, too,” you finally confessed. “there’s no other man for me, but you.”

kai’s face lit up, joy overcoming him as he wrapped his arms around you and stood up to spin you around. he squeezed you tightly, not wanting to let you go. you weren’t so eager to let him go either. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and tangled your hands in his fluffy, black hair. you pushed yourself up just enough to look at him, smiling before leaving a quick peck on the bump of his nose. kai let you down, grabbing a hold of your hands in his and held them against his chest so you could feel his heart.

“what changed your mind? not that i’m complaining or anything,” he laughed, his eyes staring down at you with the most intense admiration. his pupils dilated and glossed over. he has never felt happier.

“nothing,” you giggled. “i think i’ve always liked you. but since you started being more bold with your advances, i’ve been getting so nervous around you. i felt like i was going to explode every time you were around. but, i loved every minute i spent surrounded by your warmth. i was just shy, kai. not uncomfortable. you stole my heart.”

a smug smile made its way to kai’s face.

“you’re all mine,” he said lovingly, bringing your hands up to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “finally.”

you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your ear against his chest hearing how fast his heart was racing. hearing him call you ‘his’ filled your stomach with those same butterflies. both of you stood there for a moment, just taking in each other’s presence and embrace. neither of you wanting to let go.

“you know,” you said, propping your chin on his chest to look up at him. “i still like you when you’re your usual sweet, cute self right?”

he let out a soft giggle. “yeah, but i like how shy you get when i use my manly charms,” kai said proudly, earning a giggle from you. “and i’ll be sure to use them when i take you out on a proper first date when i come back.”

you knew you fell for the right guy. you’re just shocked it took you this long to realize it, but you’re willing to wait however long you need just to be with him. afterall, kai was the perfect man for you.

© txtaetertots

[cece693]

Can you create another Bella Swan x Male Reader. Maybe a human reader, a new student in her highschool. Bella that stuck in her room for weeks after Edward leave her, finally went to school, she didn't expect talking to m/n is easy and making her feel better, but it did. And loving him is easy, no danger to her or charlie, no threat from his family for dating him. Idk if this make sense, but i hope for fluffy moments between them and maybe a little angst when Edward comeback, Bella choose m/n of course. Thx in advance🥰🥰

Second Chance at Love (Bella Swan x M! Reader)

Sorry for the late delivery but I hope you like it. I tried to include everything you asked for, but I'm no magician :)

tags: depression, edward being manipulative, bella finally getting some sense knocked into her, charlie approves, human male reader

Charlie stood outside Bella’s open bedroom door, his heart heavy at the sight that had become a permanent fixture. Knees pulled into her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, it seemed as if that was the only thing keeping her from collapsing onto the hardwood floor. Lifeless brown eyes stared out the window, as if searching for something that wasn’t there, with only her shallow breathing proving she was still among the living.

Anger churned within Charlie, directed at the Cullen boy who had caused his daughter so much pain. It was his departure, along with that of his family, that broke her, leaving her alone to wrestle with a heartache she wasn't equipped to handle. The sight was eerily familiar to how he spent his days after Renee departed, leaving him not only an empty home but a heart. Stepping into the room, the floorboards creaking under his weight, Charlie stood behind his daughter.

“Bella,” he said softly, hoping to break through the fog of her despair, yet received no response. “You’re moving back in with your mother.”

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the sound of their breathing. Then, finally, Bella turned to him, her eyes filled with defiance and despair. "No." she rasped, her voice weak from disuse. “You can’t do that. I’ve built a life here—”

“Which you’ve abandoned,” Charlie cut in, rubbing his face tiredly. “When was the last time you spoke to Jacob, Angela, Jessica…? You haven’t been to school. You barely eat.” Clearly, he struggled to get the words out, his wish for Bella to remain in Forks being overridden by his desire to see her get better. “Perhaps a change of environment will do you good.”

“No, please.” Bella pleaded, her last connection to Edward about to disappear if she didn’t do something quickly. “I’ll go to school. In fact, today I plan to hang out with friends in Port Angeles.” It was an utter lie, but when Charlie looked somewhat relieved, Bella knew she had to commit to it.

“Alright. But if I don’t see a change, we’re calling your mom.” With that, Charlie turned and left for work, leaving Bella to prepare for school. Moving almost mechanically, Bella went through all the motions of getting ready—she showered, dressed, and grabbed her backpack, all with a sense of detachment. As she drove to school, the world around her seemed muted, the colors dull and the sounds distant.

The school day passed in a blur. She drifted from class to class, barely aware of her surroundings. She saw her friends in the hallways but avoided making eye contact, too exhausted to engage. Lunchtime came and went without her touching her food as she instead sat at the Cullen table, looking out the blinds as if they would appear at any moment.

Finally, Bella found herself in English class, seated at her desk with her head lowered, staring at her hands. The chatter of the other students faded into the background as she lost herself in thoughts of Edward. His face, his voice, his touch—they haunted her every moment, a constant reminder of what she had lost. The seat beside her was empty, until a shadow was seen from her peripheral and a new voice broke through her reverie. “Hi, I’m M/N.” he introduced himself, his voice warm and friendly. "Mind if I sit here?"

Bella took a deep breath, struggling to respond. "Sure." she whispered, after what most likely was a minute too long. Yet, M/N paid no mind, taking the seat to her right, his presence strangely comforting. He was the new student Bella had heard moved from [hometown/state]. His arrival created an uproar not only due to his mother, who was a Forks native, but also for his handsome features. There were whispers among students of him being related to the Cullens, but Bella disagreed. M/N was beautiful, but not like her Edward. 

As the days went by, M/N made several attempts to engage Bella in conversation—he would ask her how she was doing, talk about the latest assignment, or share stories about his life, yet Bella’s responses were always short, barely a sentence. He ignored Jessica’s warnings about getting too close to her, going on and on about how Bella became mute and unresponsive after breaking up with her boyfriend, yet M/N remained undeterred. Everybody needed a friend, even if they didn’t think so. 

“Good Morning.” M/N greeted after a month and a half of one-sided conversations. Sitting down at their table, the boy was surprised when Bella smiled and returned his greeting. She looked happier, shoulders not hunched into themselves and dressed in something other than baggy clothing. But it wasn’t just him who noticed, it was the school, but most importantly Charlie. He was glad to see his daughter turn back into herself, and although he didn’t know what exactly caused this, he was thankful for whatever or whoever returned the life to her. 

Bella couldn’t pinpoint where thoughts of Edward disappeared from her head, but as she got to know M/N further, they did. The dark cloud looming over her, asking why Edward would do such a thing, the hope of them returning, was erased and replaced with present thoughts regarding M/N. At this revelation, Bella was frightened. She was scared of falling in love again, only for it to end with M/N leaving, but a part of her was also relieved and excited. M/N had shown her he cared—who else would’ve kept trying to talk to her after such a cold shoulder? And even if he didn’t feel the same, Bella was content to keep him in her life.

October

November 

December 

January 

Months have passed by and Bella was happy. After months of dancing around each other, she and M/N have begun dating. The transition from friends to something more felt natural, a gradual deepening of their connection. Bella couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so at ease, so genuinely content. However, her good mood soured when she entered the school parking lot and a familiar volvo greeted her.

Hands growing clammy, Bella turned off her engine and sat inside the truck for a minute—she didn’t know what to feel. If this was months ago, she wouldn’t have hesitated in walking towards them, but now only anger filled her veins. Why did they come back? What were their intentions? However, Bella couldn’t hide forever, so with a determined mind, she exited her truck. Feeling eyes on her, she slung her backpack over her shoulder and entered the school. 

The day passed by in a blur, with Bella effectively avoiding the Cullens. She ignored Alice’s attempts to catch her eye in the hallway, quickly changing directions whenever she saw the petite vampire approaching. Edward’s gaze was harder to dodge, but Bella managed to keep her head down and her focus straight ahead, refusing to give him the satisfaction of even a glance. When school ended, Bella immediately walked out. Sprinting towards her truck, she wasn’t quick enough when the hair on her neck rose, alerting her that someone was behind her. 

“Can we talk?” Edward whispered. 

Bella froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She took a deep breath, willing herself to stay calm. Slowly, she turned around to face him, her expression hardening. “There’s nothing to talk about.” she said, her voice steady.

“Please, Bella.” Edward pleaded, his eyes filled with regret. “I just need a few minutes.”

Debating with herself, Bella sighed before nodding. Edward broke into a smile, the vampire probably thinking she would jump into his arms once he said sorry, but he would be soon mistaken. “I know I hurt you, love, and I’ll regret it for the rest of my existence. But I still love you, Bella. Can’t we give each other another chance?”

“No. I’m with someone else.”

Edward's expression fell, the hope draining from his eyes. “Who?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Bella hesitated, then took a deep breath. “His name is M/N.” she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. At this, Edward knew he needed to get more information—see if Bella was serious with this boy or just trying to make him jealous. 

“M/N.” he repeated, his voice neutral. “Tell me about him.”

“M/N is…he’s amazing.” Bella struggled to find a word that even began to describe M/N. “He’s kind, caring, and always there for me. He understands me in a way no one else ever has.”

Edward listened intently, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. “Bella, please.” He pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation. “You can’t be serious about him. You deserve someone better. He can’t protect you like I can. He’s human, Bella. He’s fragile, and he can’t offer you what I can.”

Bella’s eyes flashed with defiance, her defenses rising. “M/N may be human, but he’s more than capable of taking care of himself.” she retorted, her voice firm. “And he doesn’t need to offer me protection, Edward. He offers me love, support, and understanding—things you couldn’t give me. You’re the one who made the mistake when you left me. And now, I’m choosing to move on with someone who actually cares about me.”

Edward’s eyes darkened with regret, but he refused to give up. “Bella, I love you.” he confessed, his voice raw with emotion. “I’ve always loved you. Can’t you see that my leaving was a sign of that?”

Bella didn’t answer the vampire, growing tired of his excuses and inability to accept her choice. Turning back to her truck, Bella opened the door and went inside. If Edward could leave her in the woods all those months ago, she could leave him in a parking lot. Turning the engine on, Bella drove towards Port Angeles. After all, she and M/N had a date planned to celebrate their two-month anniversary.

[hetalianhistorian]

Reservations for the Hetalia Valentine's and White Day cafe collaboration event are now open!

Source link: https://collabo.and-gallery.com/hetalia-ws

Reservations are ¥550 yen for each person! The delivery deadline for advanced reservation will be 10:00 AM JST the day before your visit.

How to Make a Reservation

In order to make a reservation, you would first need to obtain LINE, a Japanese instant messaging app, and make an account within it first. The photos shown below are in order with the corresponding steps.

You can tap "and GALLERY mini-applications" at the bottom of the LINE app.

Tap event booking.

Select your the cafe collaboration and store.

Tap "Search by date" and then you select the date you would like to book.

Tap the time frame you'd want to reserve.

Verify that the time and place is correct, then tap "Proceed to application".

Fill out the required information and then tap "Confirm application". Note: If you want to make a reservation with multiple people, you will need a representative to book for your group.

Reservation complete!

Source link: https://collabo.and-gallery.com/hetalia-ws

Reservation Times

Each time slot will be 70 minutes long. All times will be in Japan Standard Time. L.O. stands for Last Order.

Harajuku Store

11:00 AM to 12:10 PM (L.O. - 11:40 AM)

12:30 PM to 1:30 PM (L.O. - 1:10 PM)

2:00 PM to 3:10 PM (L.O. - 2:40 PM)

3:50 PM to 5:00 PM (L.O. - 4:30 PM)

5:20 PM to 6:30 PM (L.O. - 6:00 PM)

6:50 PM to 8:00 PM (L.O. - 7:30 PM)

Shinsaibashi Store

12:30 PM to 1:40 PM (L.O. - 1:10 PM)

2:00 PM to 3:10 PM (L.O. - 2:40 PM)

3:50 PM to 5:00 PM (L.O. - 4:30 PM)

5:20 PM to 6:30 PM (L.O. - 6:00 PM)

Cancellations and Refunds

Reservations can be made until 10am the day before the desired visit. Anytime after that will not be possible to book. You are limited to reserving to only 6 slots. Reservations can be cancelled until 10am the day before the reservation and can be done through the LINE app. If you must cancel for any reason, any time after that, you must contact the store so you can receive a refund.

Additional Information

Walk-ins are possible only if there is a vacant seat or a cancelled reservation.

Pets are not allowed to enter the store.

Entry is granted 10 minutes earlier before the reservation time.

If you do not appear within the first 15 minutes of the reservation, it will be treated as a cancellation.

Be sure to prepare for your check-in in advance. You will need to bring an ID and use the LINE GALLERY mini-app to scan the QR code when entering the store.

Elementary aged customers can enter with a guardian.

Reservation and visitor benefits will only be distributed to those who visits the store.

There will be a limited supply of goods.

If you are late to your reservation time, there will be no extension.

Reselling is prohibited.

You cannot change your selected date and time.

Changes of representatives are accepted until 10 AM the day before the reservation. If your representative cannot make it, you must bring a photo of them and their ID.

You can reserve here through the LINE app!

[ghostwarriorrrr]

🇹🇷🔥 Turkish Air Force - F-4E 2020 Terminator

The F-4E 2020 Terminator represents a significant leap forward in the capabilities of the Turkish Air Force. This comprehensive upgrade enhances the venerable F-4E Phantom II with modern Turkish-made weapons systems, showcasing Türkiye’s commitment to self-reliance and advanced military technology.

Background

With a storied history dating back to the 1960s, the F-4E Phantom II has been a pivotal player on the global stage of air combat. Serving multiple nations and seeing numerous conflicts, the Phantom carved out its place in aviation history as a versatile and rugged aircraft. Türkiye’s decision to upgrade this aircraft stems from a strategic imperative to leverage existing assets while infusing them with cutting-edge technology to maintain relevance in modern aerial warfare. The 2020 Terminator program is the Turkish Air Force’s ambitious initiative to retrofit these fighters with state-of-the-art systems.

Strategic Importance

The ability to exert air superiority and conduct precision strikes is paramount in a region marked by dynamic security challenges. The F-4E 2020 Terminator’s enhanced capabilities contribute significantly to deterrence, and the demonstration of Türkiye’s advancing aerospace industry serves both a strategic and diplomatic purpose.

Upgrade Overview

The 2020 Terminator upgrade, realized by Turkish Aerospace Industries in collaboration with ASELSAN, constitutes a multifaceted improvement over the aircraft’s original design. It touches every aspect of the aircraft’s systems, bringing its avionics, armaments, and electronic warfare systems into the 21st century.

Avionics:

The modernized multi-mode pulse Doppler radar extends the aircraft’s detection range, allowing it to lock onto and engage targets from greater distances. Integrating a Hands-On Throttle-And-Stick (HOTAS) system enhances pilot control, minimizing response time during high-stakes manoeuvres. Color Multifunctional Displays (MFDs) replace outdated gauges, providing pilots with real-time data visualization for improved situational awareness.

Armament:

The Terminator’s weapons suite has been revolutionized with a mixture of Western and indigenous munitions. Long-standing armaments like the AIM-9X Sidewinder are joined by Türkiye’s own precision-guided munitions, such as the SOM cruise missile, capable of striking strategic land and sea targets with formidable accuracy. The UAV-230, a domestic innovation, represents the pinnacle of Türkiye’s missile development, offering supersonic ballistic delivery of a range of warhead types over substantial distances. The BOZOK, MAM-C, MAM-L, and Cirit missiles exemplify Türkiye’s expertise in laser guidance and smart munition technology, enabling the Terminator to engage and defeat a broad spectrum of target profiles with unerring precision.

Electronic Warfare:

To contend with the contemporary battlefield’s electronic warfare environment, the F-4E 2020 Terminator incorporates an advanced Electronic Support Measures (ESM) system for rapid threat identification and an Electronic Countermeasures (ECM) suite to confound hostile tracking systems. Moreover, chaff and flare dispensers have been integrated to provide decoys against incoming missile threats, enhancing the aircraft’s survivability in hostile airspace.

Operational Capability:

The F-4E Phantom II, transformed by these integrated systems, emerges as a multirole platform capable of dominating beyond-visual-range air-to-air engagements and precision ground-attack missions. It can operate in complex electronic warfare environments and deliver various ordnances based on mission requirements, making it a flexible asset in the Türkiye Air Force’s inventory.

Significance:

The F-4E 2020 Terminator project is a hallmark of Türkiye’s aerospace ambition and its push toward defence autonomy. By retrofitting and modernizing its Phantoms, Türkiye maximizes the value of its existing fleet while also establishing a foundation for future indigenous aircraft development projects.

Munitions Details:

The advanced, indigenous Turkish weaponry integrated into the F-4E 2020 Terminator underlines a significant shift toward self-reliance in defence technologies. Each munition type brings unique capabilities that enhance the platform’s lethality:

UAV-230: A domestically-developed ballistic missile, this supersonic weapon delivers high-precision strikes at long ranges, challenging enemy defences with its speed and reduced radar cross-section.

BOZOK: The versatility of this laser-guided munition makes it ideal for engaging both stationary and moving targets with high precision, ideal for close air support.

MAM-C/L: These smart micro munitions are designed for tactical flexibility, allowing for precision targeting in complex engagement scenarios, from anti-armour operations to counter-insurgency roles.

Cirit: A highly accurate laser-guided missile system designed for low collateral damage, Cirit is adept at striking soft and lightly armoured targets with pinpoint accuracy.

SAGE Munitions: TUBITAK SAGE, Türkiye’s leading defence research and development institute, has contributed a range of munitions enhancing the Terminator’s operational capabilities across various domains.

Conclusion:

The upgraded F-4E 2020 Terminator is a testament to Türkiye’s determination to retain a competitive edge in aerospace and defence technologies. The integration of modern avionics, armaments, and electronic warfare capabilities ensures the aircraft’s continued relevance in modern air combat, and its presence in the skies serves as a deterrent in a strategically complex region.

[blacktabbygames]

Hey, I preordered the physical STP copy for switch on Amazon. I haven’t gotten a delivery date yet- will the physical copies come out at a later date?

Thanks in advance ^^’

Physicals don't ship until next year! We need to make sure they ship with any post-launch patches on them

[therealdisneyfan2319]

Mr. Mailman | Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Natasha has a crush on the mailman :)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Mild language

Word Count: 1.7K

Masterlist

A/N: This was an anon request. Enjoy!

“What’s wrong with her?” Sam asked as he watched Natasha forlornly stir her coffee while staring out the window.  

“She’s upset Y/N won’t notice her,” Yelena explained.

“Shut up,” Nat snapped, shaking her head and snapping herself out of her fantasy.

“I’m not wrong.  You’ve had his eye on him ever since he first showed up!”

“I said shut up!” While her tone was harsh, the blush creeping across her face told a different story.  It was true.  Natasha Romanoff, normally the stoic, unattached assassin, had a crush.  

From the first day Y/N L/N stepped foot on the Avengers’ compound as the new Stark Industries delivery driver, Natasha was absolutely smitten.  She didn’t know what it was.  Maybe it was the way his biceps bulged as he pulled the truck full of packages through the loading dock.  Or maybe it was the flourish he used flipping the clipboard back to the dock manager after signing the package transfer.  But truth be told it was the way he glanced up from the clipboard and smiled at Natasha the first day he saw her.  Ever since then she used every excuse in the book to be at the loading dock or mailroom whenever he was there.

******

You never anticipated that your first job after college would be a delivery driver for Stark Industries, but here you were.  While it wasn’t the office job you anticipated, driving the delivery truck was actually pretty cool.  Getting to step foot on the Avengers compound every day was cool.  Having Tony Stark as your boss was cool.  Sneaking a glance at Natasha Romanoff whenever you could?  Cool isn’t the exact word you’d use for that.

The first time you laid eyes on Nat was your first day of work.  You were signing for some packages that were being transferred from the compound to the main site when she walked by.  She was passing through, on her way to some other location.  All you did was look at her and smile.  She flashed a quick grin in your general direction before speeding off.  That was the last time she actually made eye contact with you, but it wasn’t the last time you saw her.  Most days she was either in the mailroom or the loading dock whenever you got there.  No words were exchanged between the two of you, but she was always there.  Sometimes you sensed her looking at you, but she quickly glanced away when you looked over at her.

Natasha was gorgeous, there was no doubt about that.  You never missed an opportunity to steal a quick glance whenever she passed by.  But you were always too scared to actually strike up a conversation with her.  She was the Black Widow: something about asking one of the world’s fiercest assassins out for coffee intimidated you.  There was always the slight risk that an unwanted advance would end in your assassination.  So you kept your distance for reasons of personal safety…or that’s what you told yourself.

******

“As the resident expert on waiting too long, don’t.”

“Drop it, Steve,” Nat chided.  “I don’t even like him.”

“Oh, that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one,” Steve chuckled, dodging the coffee cup that came flying at his head.  “It’s okay if you like him!  I’ve talked to him a few times and he’s a nice guy.”

“No.  No, it’s not okay.  I wouldn’t know what to do if he liked me back…” she trailed off.

“You go out for coffee.  You talk, you get to know each other.”

“Steve I…I’ve never actually dated anyone before!” Natasha blurted.  Red crept up her cheeks as she finally admitted the one truth she never spoke aloud.  The only other person who knew the truth was Yelena and even she was sworn to secrecy.

“What?” 

“I know how to seduce people.  That’s part of the job and I do it well.  But it’s just the job.  I’ve never done it for real.”

“Come on, you’re kidding.  What about Connor?” Steve was shocked at the revelation.  He set his coffee cup down on the counter and rubbed his beard as he stared at Natasha.  

“That was a cover for the joint mission with MI6.”

“Lillian?”

“SHIELD mission.”

“David from Accounting?”

“Daniel.  Just sex.”

Steve didn’t say anything: he just stared.  Natasha glanced at her feet, kicking the ground in front of her as an awkward tension spread over the room.  She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole just to get her out of such an uncomfortable situation.

“Nat-”

“No one’s going to want to go out with a woman who’s never been on a date before,” Natasha replied tersely.  She gulped the lump that was slowly creeping up her throat as she once again swallowed her pride.  

It’s not that she didn’t want to eventually partner up with someone, in fact it was quite the opposite.  After so many years of excuses, she just figured it would never happen to her.  The possibility of something finally working out scared her.  Natasha worried she wouldn’t know what to do.  Sex was one thing.  That was transactional, something both parties rendered knowing there weren’t any strings attached.  Intimacy?  That involved being vulnerable and saying how you felt.  After so many years living so many lies Natasha wasn’t sure she was capable of such openness.  

“You’ll never know unless you try,” Steve encouraged, placing a hand on her shoulder.  

“Cut the bullshit, Steve,” Natasha snapped as she shook his hand from her body.  “We both know it’s not that simple.”

“It is with the right guy.”

******

Should be good after this last trip, you thought to yourself as you pushed the overflowing mail cart down the winding hallway toward the mailroom.  It was cold and rainy, a miserable day to be on the road, and all you wanted was to get out of there, drive the truck back to the city, and head to your apartment in Queens.  All that was left was sorting the mail and putting it in the right mailboxes.

The mailroom was a convoluted maze of boxes, bins, tubes, and chutes.  Everything had a specific spot and it was easy to mess up at first.  Once you got the hang of it, sorting everything out wasn’t too bad.  What once took over an hour only took you twenty or so minutes now.  Plopping the cart down in front of the mailboxes, you got to work stuffing envelopes, packages, and postcards where they belonged.  The work was mindless, meditative almost.  Once you got into the rhythm of it your brain shut off and muscle memory took over.  Today you were so in the zone that you didn’t notice the redhead walk into the room behind you, so when you turned around the shock of realizing you weren’t alone made you drop your armful of envelopes.

“Oh great,” you muttered, stooping down to pick up the papers.

“Here, let me-”

“No, it’s fine-”

“No, it’s my fault.  Let me help you.”  

You watched as the redhead knelt down in front of you, raking papers toward herself.  It was the first time you were ever that close to Natasha Romanoff.  A more looming, intimidating figure in your mind, she was surprisingly smaller and less threatening up close and in sweatpants.  If you didn’t know any better, you wouldn’t even know that she’s a trained assassin.  She was so unobtrusive, so inconspicuous.  She was also so, so incredibly beautiful. 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize that you were in here,” you sheepishly apologized as you stared down at the red ponytail that was flopping back and forth.  

“I have a bad habit of sneaking up on people,” Natasha admitted.

“Understandable,” you chuckled.  Natasha gave a slight smile as she handed you some envelopes.  God her eyes were the brightest green you’d ever seen.  You grabbed the envelopes from her, holding onto them and locking eyes with her for far too long.  Suddenly realizing you were actually a human being on earth currently existing in the moment, you cleared your throat abruptly and looked down at the letters.

“A lot of mail today,” Natasha mumbled.  She snapped her head toward the mailbox, trying to hide the redness spreading over her cheeks.  “Are you always this busy?”

“Uhhh, no.  Not always.  Normally it’s not this bad.  Did y’all collectively decide that today was the best day to order from Amazon?”

“That’s either Bucky or Yelena.  My sister’s always buying stuff she doesn’t need and Bucky loves the novelty of next-day delivery.  I think it’s that whole ‘born over a hundred years ago’ thing.”

“Funny.  Most of these packages are for you,” you teased, thrusting a stack of envelopes in her direction.  

“What on earth?” Natasha fumbled the packages, completely confused as to why she had so many packages when she didn’t remember ordering anything.  You watched as her eyes furrowed in utter confusion.  Her bewilderment was equally amusing and adorable.  “This has to be some sort of mistake.”

“I just deliver the mail, ma’am,” you replied.

“And make me feel old, Mr. Mailman.  You can call me Natasha.”

“It’s Y/N, but you can call me Mr. Mailman if that makes you feel better.”

“How about I just call you instead?” Natasha blurted without realizing what she was saying.

“What?”  

The second she realized what she just said, Natasha became totally overwhelmed with embarrassment. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” she mumbled, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.  “I’ll just-thanks for the packages.  Have a good weekend.”  She scrambled to pick up what she could before making a beeline for the door.

“Natasha, wait!” you heard yourself calling.  “Please just wait, please, ummm…”  She paused, still looking down at her packages as she faced away from you.  “Umm, coffee?  I mean, d’you want to get coffee?  Not right now, I’ve still gotta get the truck back to the city.  But maybe tomorrow?  Or I can do Sunday if tomorrow doesn’t work.  Basically whenever you’re free I can clear my schedule.  If you want.  No pressure.”

“Alright.”

“Sooooo tomorrow then?”

“Yeah.  Tomorrow.”  She glanced behind herself, shooting you a half grin that she was failing to stop from becoming a full on smile.

“Cool.  Great.  Awesome.  Yeah, see you tomorrow,” you replied, totally breathless and in shock at the situation.  A coffee date with Natasha Romanoff…what could go wrong?