#i keep getting these bursts of energy to just suddenly do something

[midnightsxblue]

CRUSH

carl grimes x adhd!dixon!fem!reader

(carl loves to hear about your hyper fixation.)

tags: fluff!

masterlist here!

(this takes place in season 4 at the prison!)

Growing up, you’d gotten interested in many things. You were really educated on a lot and your dad, Daryl honestly couldn’t keep up with it. He tried his best, since he’s a pretty quiet guy he’s a great listener. Although, sometimes you wished he’d give you some sort of feedback or maybe ask you questions about whatever it was you were telling him about.

I mean, even after the turn he never really had time to talk about anything. He was always going on runs or he went out hunting. He was really important in the way the prison ran, so he was always busy. You always felt sort of anxious about it, you could never really talk or share your thoughts or explain the interests you loved. They were especially important now as most of your hyper fixations were what was getting you through it all.

You talked, and you talked a lot and there’s nothing wrong with that. But in a world that suddenly had gone quiet, it was hard for people to listen to you considering how adapted they’d become to the silence. You were like a burst of energy that most people weren’t exactly ready for quite yet.

Except for Carl.

He always thought you were the cutest and funniest ever, even when you were younger like at the quarry or the farm. There, you never really had freedom to be yourself because the adults would always tell you to hush and be quieter. That’s why at the prison, he loved to watch you be who you truly were. He’d seen you interact with the other kids at the prison and had gotten angry at them for brushing you off when you were excited about certain things and began to ramble. So, one day at the tables outside the prison, he did something not many people did.

He asked you your favorite book series.

You were ecstatic, even though you realize this may not an invitation to explain to him every bit of lore of the story, you were happy he’d even put in the effort to ask. You tried to stay as calm as possible. “It’s called A Series of Unfortunate Events…it’s quite complicated…” You explain shyly, not having really opened up to him like that before. Sure you’d gone through a lot with him but you stayed quiet a lot of the time because of how discouraged you were by adults.

“Complicated? How so?” He questioned. Which is exactly what you wanted. Your eyes widen a bit but you try your best to stay calm so you don’t completely scare him off.

“Well how much do you wanna know, I mean it’s quite a lot it could take me hours to explain and I’d feel quite bad if you wanted like a quick synopsis and not an entire look on the lore and…” Your voice trails off when you realize you’d been rambling. He however was admiring you completely. He found you so refreshing. “I wanna hear everything.” He tells you. Again exactly what you wanted. Was he always so cute? Or is that something you’d just noticed?

“I guess I could start with the basic information, there’s three siblings right, theres Violet who’s the eldest sister and she’s an inventor, she always ties her hair up with this ribbon and that’s how you know she’s gonna make something good...” You continue to ramble and smile at little details you explain. “Then there’s the middle child, Klaus who’s a boy and he is very intelligent, he remembers basically anything ever told to him which I somewhat relate to considering I get really interested at certain things but anyway,” He giggles at you a bit, enjoying everything in front of him at the moment.

“They also have a little sister Sunny who’s just a baby but they understand everything she says and she has these teeth that are super sharp even though it’s just four but she could probably bite off a finger if she really wanted to.” His eyes widen a bit. “A finger? Wow…and only four teeth?” He inquired, very intrigued at what you’re saying.

You continue to talk to him a bit more, explaining a good amount of the plot to him and he listened intently. You’d stopped for dinner but continued to talk with him during. At some point, Daryl had to come and pry you away from him so you could actually go the hell to bed. Carl didn’t want you to go, you’d already gotten him invested and he wouldn’t be able to sleep without knowing what happened next. He also wanted to just spend time with you.

“Cmon s’time for bed.” Daryl told you, you then turned to Carl and a small frown was displayed on his face. “We can talk again tomorrow morning…if you want.” He immediately nods. “Yes- yeah I’d love to.” Daryl looks between the both of you, knowing how much Carl had admired you. He also knew that if Carl was listening and wanting to know more, you’d also admire him just as much. You smile at him and nod. Daryl directs you in the way of the cells and he stays back to talk to Carl.

“You got somethin for my daughter?” He interrogated Carl for a moment. “W-what?” Daryl looks back at you to make sure you’re far enough before continuing. “Those books…she’s been dyin to talk to me about those since I found em for her. Haven’t had the time.” He explains. “No one else seems to want to hear about it. What’re you up to?” Carl tilts his head a bit. “I just wanted to know her favorite series…I suppose I enjoy hearing her talk.” He smiles.

So Daryl left him alone about it. He was glad to know you had someone to talk to while he was busy.

The next day at breakfast, you were eating while reading back at the benches. Once he gets his plate he walks over and sits across from you. His paper plate hit the table with a bit a thud and you notice, looking up from the book. “Oh…hey.” You look up at him and smile, he takes a moment to respond as he’s quite flustered to see your smile straight off the bat. “Hi…which one are you reading?” He points to your book.

“The twelfth book. I’m kinda sad about it though…” You give a small pout and he picks up a bit of bacon to take a bite. “Why, cause it’s gonna end?” He chews his food and waits for your reply. “That and I don’t have the last book.” You fold the page’s corner, sort of a way to mark your place. Carl takes note of that. He does however feel horrible that you’re missing the last book. “Oh really? I’m sorry…maybe we can make up our own ending. Once you explain the rest of it to me.” He does his best to cheer you up.

But somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he had to solve your problem. Although he was too young to go out scavenging, his best friend wasn’t. So after breakfast where you explained the second book to him, on his way to do his chores he stopped Michonne on her way out of the gate. “Do you think maybe if it’s not to big a deal you could stop at the library? I’m looking for a book.” He explains, not quite mentioning you currently. “Is this for your new old ‘friend’?” She questions, somewhat teasingly. He rolls his eyes but nods. “Yes. She’s missing the last book. The thirteenth.”

“The last book? Tragic. I know the series, I overheard your guys’ chats yesterday.” She smiles.

So she left and you didn’t see Carl till later that night in the cell block after dinner. He stopped by your cell with a small bag in his hands. He pushed the curtain open to see you lying on your stomach atop your bed, on the final pages of the twelfth book. “Almost done?” He sort of startled you but you immediately smile once you realize it’s him.

“Mhm.” His visit was rather unusual, usually you’d just talk to him during the day but not before bed. You sit up and make room for him to come sit beside you. “I got something for you.” He reaches into the bag and pulls out a book, the thirteenth book. “‘The End?’ Really? How…I mean my dad’s been looking for it for me but-” You look up at him with a bright grin. You don’t really say anything before swiftly tackling him in a hug. He hugs you so tightly, all he wanted was to see you happy.

After pulling away from the hug, he reached back down into the back and pulled out a hook bookmark. It had a little arrow charm. Fitting for a Dixon to say the least.

“I mean…this makes sense.” You tell him, he laughs at your comment. “I just thought I’d have Michonne find you the last book. I’m quite invested in it myself. I love hearing you talk about it…I love hearing you talk.” He explains, sort of staring at you admiringly. You notice and look a tad skeptical, knowing there was something more appealing to him than just talking.

“I uh..I have a small crush on you…if that explains everything.” He admits, his face turning a light shade of pink.

You smile. “Yeah, I could tell.”

a/n: i thought this was quite fun to write, i love a series of unfortunate events muehehehe. anyway i hope this is what anon wanted, i did some good research for it to ensure it was okay :)) okay love u bye

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh

[disposal-blueeee]

VARGASTOBER - day 4 : squee

[teapartyprincess4two]

omg can you make a chris version to the talkative fic? my english isn’t very good i apology if this doesn’t make sense!

Talkative- C. Sturniolo

pairing: Yapper!reader x Boyfriend!Chris

classification: SFW & NSFW headcannons

inspiration: request^^

warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship

summary: head cannons of Chris with a talkative, yapper girlfriend!

Talkative- M. Sturniolo (Matt’s Version)

Talkative- N. Sturniolo (Nick’s Version)

—

☆ SFW

You love to talk and that’s something Chris has loved about you from the moment he met you. He, much like you, is extremely extroverted, but every girl he’s talked to in the past has always found him to be too much. You’re his perfect match and although he also likes to talk, he loves to listen too.

☆ Chris never gets tired of hearing you talk, “Babe tell me the story about the teddy bear again.”

☆ You retell stories in such a detailed way that he can’t help but burst into laughter even if he’s heard it before.

☆ When you talk about your friends, it’s like you’re explaining their lore in full detail each time.

☆ “No, babe, that was Savannah. I’m talking about Teala,” or “Dude, I’m telling you that’s why they fired that bitch.”

☆ He has all the characters memorized, even categorizing their lives into arcs, episodes, and seasons.

☆ “Wow Teala is in her villain arc,” and “On this weeks episode of, Who the Fuck is Getting Fired!”

☆ He loves asking you questions because you somehow know the answer to everything.

☆ You’ll be eating dinner and suddenly a random question will pop into his mind, “Y/n, what does litigate mean? I heard someone use it today, sounded fancy.”

☆ You look up at him mid bite, slightly confused but also intrigued at a new topic of conversation.

☆ “I think it has something to do with the law, I don’t know, babe. But one time I heard someone say that on one of those court shows…” you drone on for a while.

☆ Chris always Googles the answers afterwards, not because he doesn’t believe you, but because he truly thinks you’re the smartest person on this planet and you haven’t been wrong yet.

☆ You’re both equally insane, you’ll laugh like crazy people no matter where you are.

☆ You tell the best jokes too, your mind works so fast that you’re able to create comebacks and quick, witty remarks to everything he says.

☆ Sometimes you’ll join him and his brothers on grocery trips, and the both of you wander off just completely in your own world.

☆ You’re the only person who can catch Chris off guard.

☆ You’ll say something completely unexpected and outlandish, causing him to pause whatever he’s doing and stare at you in shock.

☆ “Babe! No way you just said that.”

☆ “I said it, and I’ll say it again.”

☆ When you’re with friends, you tend to talk over each other and your friends almost break their necks switching their attention between you and Chris.

☆ To other people it might seem like you’re fighting each other for the spotlight, but in reality you’re able to bounce off each other’s energy and add on to whatever the other says.

☆ He knows what it’s like to be called annoying, so if anyone ever makes you feel uncomfortable for being talkative he defends you without hesitation.

☆ “Watch your fucking mouth. Don’t say shit like that about her.”

☆ Every conversation you have is full of inside jokes that no one else can keep up with, and it’s literally something new every week.

☆ Although other people are confused by the jokes, you and Chris understand each other fully, almost like you speak your own made up language.

☆ You make each other laugh so hard that your cheeks and ribs will start hurting.

☆ “Chris stop! I’m gonna pee,” you wheeze, rolling over on your side as you try to catch your breath.

☆ He keeps going though, making you laugh harder by making silly faces and funny voices through his story.

☆ After long days of filming and being away from you, he’ll cuddle up next to you in bed and murmur through the drowsiness, “Talk to me baby.”

☆ You know he’s tired so you don’t talk his ear off at a high energy, you just retell your day and play with his hair, kissing his face between sentences.

☆ He loves the sound of your voice, each word as sweet as honey, instantly lulling him into a peaceful sleep.

☆ You’re very opinionated and sometimes you say something he disagrees with, instantly creating a debate between the two of you.

☆ The debates always start off innocent, just you two going back and forth with opinions and the occasional fact.

☆ It’s not until it gets personal that Chris gets upset, giving you the silent treatment until you’re begging for him to talk to you again.

☆ “Chris, I’m sorry! Just talk to me, I’m so bored without you!” He tries putting on a tough guy act, but it never lasts long so he’s forgiving you within seconds.

☆ When you’re around older people, they always comment on what a nice, kind couple you two are because you engage in conversation with everyone.

☆ “What a nice old lady,” Chris says, slinging an arm around you as you both walk away.

☆ “Such wisdom,” you chime in, both of you falling into a fit of laughter. You could never take anything serious.

☆ NSFW

☆ Chris knows not to look too into your conversations with other guys, but sometimes he can’t help but get jealous.

☆ He’ll lose you at a party and find you talking to a stranger, an excited aura surrounding you as you jump from topic to topic.

☆ When he sees the guy becoming too comfortable and touchy, he makes his way over to you and inserts himself in the conversation.

☆ Later, he’s fucking you to teach you a lesson and clamping a strong hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, “This dirty little mouth of yours got you in trouble, Princess.”

☆ Other times he just gets turned on by your voice.

☆ He wants you to talk him through the sex and guide him on what positions you want.

☆ “C’mon baby, tell me how bad you want it.”

☆ Despite you both being talkative, there’s times when you’re so fucked out you’re speechless.

☆ The only sound that fills the room is skin slapping and Chris’s animalistic grunts, followed by your whimpers and small squeaks.

☆ He relishes in it, “This dick has you speechless, huh?”

☆ All he gets in response is a whimper, as you claw at his back for support.

☆ Chris loves when you dirty talk him, using your words to say filthy things to him.

☆ It riles him up beyond belief, and if you keep it going he’s lasting at least 3 rounds.

☆ Afterwards, he loves cuddling or spooning, both of you talking for hours about your future together.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Happy birthday to me! (It was yesterday at this point)

Thank you for this request and NEVER apologize for your English/ grammar. I’m a bilingual education major and I firmly believe you don’t need to apologize for that EVER. I luv u!

Also I’m bilingual (English & Spanish) If any of yall ever want to send in a request in Spanish, go ahead bbys! LOS AMO 💋💋💋

Lastly, I’ll admit that this was harder to write than Matt’s version idky

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[a-hazbin-reader]

Hii I love your work!

Could you do a (romantic but.. crush stage) headcanon of Alastor helping the reader and the reader gives him a kiss as a thank you and Alastor is like "what the hell was that?" Reader genuinely feeling bad for kissing him and Alastor says "you should be sorry" but then Alastor starts to constantly help the reader (even more than before) and everyone in the hotel knows what he's doing but reader is dense. Then eventually alastor just bursts into her bedroom shouting "FOR FUCK SAKE WHY WONT YOU KISS ME" (maybe not that but same energy)

Please and thank you :>

I'm just gonna...combine these two...

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being jealous, DOORS, Saucy?

Description: ☝️⬆️

You gave affection freely to those around you, everyone got a hug or a small peck on the cheek

So when you're struggling with something and Alastor helps you out? It's only natural for you to give him a quick kiss on the cheek

It's his reaction to it that makes you think you made a mistake in doing so, his body going stiff and gaze dark

You step back as you start to notice a green haze around him and the glass on his monocle cracking

"Don't you ever do that again, my dear."

"I'm-I'm sorry, Alastor-"

"You should be."

And just like that, he's back to normal, carrying on like nothing had happened and humming a jolly tune

But you still feel so guilty for making him so uncomfortable, that was the last thing you wanted

So you work hard to do better, to respect his boundaries and keep a respectful distance

It's not until later when Alastor has time to think about it that he actually realizes that he kinda enjoyed it

And that he's envious of the others who now freely get to soak up your attention and affection for doing little tasks

Like Husk getting scritches and scratches under his chin because he carried a box for you

Angel getting a warm hug with lots of nuzzling and cooing, all because he used his multiple arms to help you cook

Vaggie sheepishly accepting a thank you kiss because she caught you when you almost took a dive down the stairs

Charlie and Niffty are the worst offenders, always helping you and just eating up your praise and hugs

And now whenever Alastor helps you... you just give him a meek thank you and dash off

He's left there waiting for his hug and kiss that won't ever happen

He's not jealous, he told you not to thank him with physical affection

He just didn't realize that he was shooting himself in the foot when he snapped at you

So he starts trying to tempt you into it, taking every opportunity to help you out with every little thing

Alastor will physically shove the others out of the way in order to be the person who helps you out

And he never gets the proper thank you that he's looking for

It's getting to the point where you're driving him insane with those kissy lips and warm embraces

Why won't you just fucking give him some attention!? Oh yeah. Because he ruined it for himself

You do tell him that you're grateful for him and his help, sweetly smiling at him but keeping yourself at a distance

But it's not enough, he wants what everyone else is getting and then some

He hates being excluded or not being special and it's even worse when it comes to you

Alastor's thin patience suddenly snaps when one day while he's out running errands with you

The two of you bump into Zestial and the great overlord opens a door for you, earning a soft kiss on his cheek

It would almost be cute watching you struggle to do that, considering Zestial's height

But instead...Alastor is fucking irritated 😤

Zestial takes it well and you continue to run errands with Alastor for the rest of the day even though he's visibly sulky

His ears are bent back and his eyes are furious

You wonder what you did wrong

He's a bit distant from you for a couple days after that and you miss having him around

Even if you couldn't be with him, you still liked hanging around him and spending time with him

Just when you're starting to feel sorry for yourself and thinking you did something to offend him, wandering the hotel

He shows up by your side and grabs you, miraculously stopping you from almost falling into a fucking hole in the floor that wasn't there yesterday

Charlie is to blame somehow

You're just so happy to see him hanging out with you again that you hug him out instinct

Only to realize you fucked up and try to pull away-

But Alastor's firm grip on you stops you from moving, and he's looking at you in a way that makes your face heat up

"U-uh...um...thank you...Alastor..."

He tuts at you while shaking his head, pulling you flush against him as he leans in closer

"Words won't suffice anymore, my dear~ I'll only accept one thing as payment for my heroic services~"

You definitely don't melt when he suddenly kisses you and if your arms find their way around his neck then...

Who are you to deny him his payment? Kiss that bastard until he's crawling away and begging for mercy

Me hoping I didn't just shoot myself in the foot by bringing up the door thing again..

[chlorinecake]

✰ don’t give me that look | l.at oneshot

pairing: switch! producer boyfriend! anton x sub! f. reader

🇨​​💿 ​​🇳​​🇹​​🇦​​🇮​​🇳​​🇸 ꗃ SIZE KINK, kissing, lap sitting, tit & clit play, anton records a sex-tape in the studio, unprotected sex (back shots), roughly 1.8k words … !?

a/n: for @antonitty and her delusions - hope u like it bae !!

You sat idly on the studio couch, admiring your boyfriend from afar as he silently toggled with the sound desk, mixing a few rhythms.

Crossing your legs, you eyed him up and down, taking in the view of his focused frame.

“You’re pretty good at flicking and twisting those knobs, y’know?… I wonder how nice it’d be if you used that same energy to please me…”

He let out a soft breath, eyes still trained on the soundboard as he spoke, “Babe, you know I’d rather spend time with you… I just have to produce this track sample before tomorrow…”

“And then?…”

“I’m all yours,” he finished, flashing you a promising look through his shaggy bangs.

“Fineeee,” you agreed in a sarcastic tone, slightly rolling your eyes at him, “but can you let me try something on the record first?… it might help…”

Anton quirked a brow, turning to meet your face with his own intrigued one, “You mean like… singing?”

You simply nodded in response, just before promptly getting up from the couch to sit on his lap at the music desk.

He didn’t know what to do with his hands now that you were this close to him, so he simply rested them at each arm of the spinning chair.

“You might even learn a thing or two from me if you pay attention,” you went on, knowing that he’d smile at your playful words.

“Go ahead then, superstar… blow me away,” he whispered tauntingly, keeping his thighs firm as you adjusted yourself on top of him.

With his headphones secured around his head, Anton prepared himself to hear whatever it was that you wanted to add to the track project.

Pressing the red “record” button, you let the instrumental play for a few moments as you got a feel of the beat, this one sounding more R&B compared to his usually chill rhythms.

You started by toggling in a few bass notes on the drum-pad, watching Anton’s reflection in the soundproof screen ahead for any sign of reaction.

So far, he only bobbed his head slowly, still anticipating your next move.

That’s when you picked up the mic, bringing it to your lips and letting out the most pornographic moan you could muster.

Anton’s hands flew from the chair arms to take off his headphones, reaching forward to pause the track recording as you suddenly burst into a fit of giggles.

“Babe, what the hell?” He blushed, covering his face with one hand as butterflies rushed through his stomach, the sound of your moan replaying in his mind over and over, “this is serious, y’know?”

You turned around in his lap, taking in your boyfriend’s shy demeanor as you fought to hold back the laughter growing in your chest.

“What? Was it bad? I can do better if you want me to…,” you pouted, batting your eyelashes at him as he put his hands behind his head, slightly smirking at you despite the evidently nervous red flush of his cheeks, “you can even help me...”

“Don’t give me that look, ____,” he sighed, voice sounding a bit more raspy while still maintaining its usual softness.

Was it nerves?

Was he horny?…

Either way, it didn’t matter to you because he sounded so fucking hot right now—

“What look?” you pressed with a feigned expression of innocence before very intentionally wiggling in his lap a bit.

“Like you wanna be fucked,” Anton said with a wince at your actions, letting his eyelids fall slightly while looking down at you with a clenched jaw.

You couldn’t believe those words had left his mouth so smoothly, his confidence alone causing you to squeeze your thighs together, already feeling so eager for him…

You couldn’t handle it when he behaved so switchy with you… starting off all shy before gradually becoming more and more bold.

His eyes eventually wandered back to the soundboard, so you took it as an opportunity to change the subject.

“You never told me if it was bad or not,” you started in the silence, mind just now becoming aware of Anton slowly getting harder beneath you.

“Well,” he hummed, letting his hands leave his head and slip down to your hips, “it was a solid 50-50, if I’m being honest…”

You scoffed dramatically, an offended hand flying to your chest, “How so?”

“Because… I always love the sounds you make for me, but not when you force them…”

His grip on your hips was firm now, holding you in place before just barely rocking you against his lap in skilled motions.

Despite the simplicity of his actions, your body started to feel dizzy with desire, mind fogging up as his clothed tip continued grinding beneath your core.

“Anton—”

“Shhh,” he interrupted, the feeling of his breath below your ear making you internally shiver, a feathery yet steady groan escaping his lips.

“Can I try something now?” he asked breathlessly, even though the question sounded more like a declaration than a proposal of permission.

“Mhmm,” you nodded submissively, eyes feeling heavy as the warmth amongst your bodies only grew, thanks to how stuffy the studio was.

Clicking the sound desk back on “record,” Anton slipped his headphones over your head, feeling himself get even hotter at how cute you looked in this moment, his chunky earmuffs barely fitting around your much smaller head.

By now though, Anton had easy access to your lower half, given the high-pleated-skirt you decided to wear that day.

You almost felt like half of your body escaped to another planet when Anton’s touch started to wander lower, his hands practically covering the entire expanse of your exposed thighs given how big they were.

His breath remained steady in this moment, despite how his heart kept stuttering like a broken record.

Or perhaps, a sexually excited one…

The subtle movements of your legs helped Anton to shimmy your panties down past your hips, all the way down to your ankles, and eventually the floor.

You sat with your soaking wet core atop your boyfriend’s lap now, two of his fingers soon finding your clit in slow, circular motions.

The thing was, Anton had finally let his intrusive thoughts win, having wanted to get a genuine recording of your moans for a while.

The idea always meddled in the back of his mind whenever you pranced into the studio while he was working on beats…

However, the only issue now was that you were feeling a bit shy with the recorder on again…

“C’mon baby, lemme hear you,” the boy nearly begged, words sounding a bit mumbled with the way he was kissing along your neck.

“I know you want to,” he taunted, free hand sliding up to grope your left tit while his other hand continued toying with your pussy, “no wonder you wore this slutty skirt for me today…”

His voice… it practically intoxicated you… the way it sounded so pure yet so condescending at the same time…

“F-fuck,” you stammered with a moan, furrowing your brows as his fingers applied pressure to your clit, the other hand slightly pinching your nipple as he knew just how to get you to those pretty sounds that he wanted out of you.

“Good girl~,” he whispered in a cooing manner, “but I know you can do better than that…”

He guided you to stand up on your wobbly legs, his fingers meddling with your slick as he towered behind you.

And although your ears were still muffed with his headset, you could clearly make out the sound of his belt unbuckling with tingly clinks, your pussy only pulsing with need.

Before you could even beg to be fucked, you felt one of Anton’s hands hike up your skirt, the other forcing your back to arch over the sound board as his hard length pressed between your folds.

He was way too fucking big, but part of you liked the idea of him potentially breaking you.

It wasn’t easy, but your boyfriend eventually slipped himself inside, letting his tip tease along the ridges of your heat before picking up the pace, the soft pants and occasional groans from his body sounding loud and clear thanks to the headphones you wore.

There was also something about hearing your own moans so audibly on top of his… hearing how he turned you into a whiny mess so easily…

Anton’s hazy eyes met your fucked out reflection in the glass screen ahead, your own vision wandering off to the sound wave reader on his music board.

The way it’s lines heightened with each desperate moan that left your sweaty bodies did nothing but crazy things to the knot tightening in your stomach.

“Touch me, Anton,” you practically whimpered, voice coming out in small hiccups given how hard he was pounding into you.

His hands were already so tight around your waist, but your whiny request let him know exactly where you wanted him… where you needed that extra intensity.

He went to grope your tits, lifting your body away from the sound board with ease as the sight of his flexed biceps nearly made you drool.

The pace of his hips remained fast and controlled as he continued fucking into you, the tip of his cock reaching so deep that you’re sure you felt it in your belly button.

Looking down, Anton saw that the recording had reached just over 3 minutes, despite how your pussy desperately clenched around him, a clear sign that you were close to finishing.

His mouth was full of saliva, not even remembering to swallow given how pleasure drunk he was right now.

And somehow, you caught onto this, turning your neck at an angle and guiding his plush lips to kiss you, only a few seconds passing before he inserting his tongue, grunting into your mouth.

“You sound so pretty, baby,” he said in between kissing you sloppily, right before taking his headphones off your head and tossing them on the couch, still connected to the music desk by a thin black wire, “listen…”

He whispered the last word against your lips, maintaining the most gentle look in his eyes as he kept bouncing your ass on his cock.

You meant to say something, but the weak cries of pleasure kept stalling your speech, the words becoming a jumbled mess in your head.

Anton’s strength helped to hold up your shaky body just as you felt your release gush around him, a bit of it seeping onto his thighs as he continued thrusting.

It didn’t take long for him to cum after that too, a beautiful series of moans spilling from his lips as he panted over you, letting his hand slide away to end the recording.

The screen read ‘5:18s’ before Anton reached over to save the track, leaving both of you shocked that you even finished that fast together…

Still a panting mess, your boyfriend held your hips close to his, letting his weight fall back in the spinning chair with you on top of him.

“We should totally do quickies in the studio more often,” you huffed tiredly, leaning back against Anton’s chest as he hugged you close, still inside your pussy.

“Not that I’m disagreeing with you, but maybe after I install an air conditioner in here, we can plan something,” he smiled, not even bothering to wipe the sheen of sweat from his face that inevitably kept your hot bodies clung together.

Your hand found his, fingers idly toying with the rings he wore as he adjusted himself beneath you, “I should probably let you get back to work now since I’ve distracted you enough already—”

“Let’s just stay like this for a little longer,” he interrupted, almost yawning at how comfortable he felt buried inside you in this moment, “please?”

“Of course, superstar,” you replied playfully, nestling into his warmth and letting your eyes fall shut as you listened to the sound of his gentle heartbeat…

✶ taglist: @squoxle, @nikisdubblchococake, @wonbinisbabygurl, @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @ot7sevenlvr

✶ 🎀 ✶ check out more works like this on my RIIZE masterlist !!

[angel5ofp0rn]

♡ part nine ♡

ExHusband!Price x f!reader

You and John have been pretty distant during the past two months, basically just coparenting in the same house.

You decided that depending on how this goes, how John and his ex wife interact, how the kids all get along, that's how you’ll decide the next step for the two of to get back together.

On the train from London to Bath, John holds your youngest in his lap and listen to her ooh's and ah's about being in a new country.

Meanwhile, you listen to every little question your oldest asks you about the new country, about the plane ride, about why everyone here “talks like daddy”.

After a while the train finally arrives at the station. John takes the lead out the door, carrying your oldest on his back as you carry the youngest on your hip.

The two of you are pretty silent, only talking to the children rather than each other.

The kids go crazy, suddenly getting a burst of energy as they explore the rental John booked for this trip.

They’re clearly more interested in the temporary house than anything else.

"So," you look at John as the kids giggle and wrestle on the floor. "When do we meet them?"

John takes a deep breath before he speaks. "Tomorrow morning. I thought the four of us could get breakfast and then head out to Nadia's house." He speaks carefully as if he’s trying not to say something that might upset you.

You just nod, turning your attention back to the kids.

He doesn’t say it, but he’s just as nervous as you. He doesn’t know what it’ll be like tomorrow, if the kids will all get along, if you and his other ex-wife will get along.

The kids definitely don’t sense any tension, that's for sure.

•••

You and John tucked the kids into bed in the larger room of the house, letting them share the king bed. It’s just John and you in the second room, separate beds, as had become the norm for the two of you.

John's quiet in his bed simply staring at the ceiling, his mind filled with thoughts of the following day.

"John..?" You sit up in your bed and look over at him.

John turns his head, a tiny bit surprised to see that you're still awake. He just gives you a small smile.

"Can't sleep?"

You shake your head. You’d been trying to sleep for the last two hours but the anxiety isn't letting you.

"Yeah... Neither can I..." John rubs his face and lets out a small sigh. He lifts his covers. "C'mon, love."

You should put your foot down or tell him off... But you don’t.

He has you. Divorce, secret family and all.

You slowly get out of your bed and crawl into his, instantly cuddling up to his warm body.

John wraps his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. He closes his eyes, savoring this moment with you.

You're in his arms, and although things between you two are still tense, you're at least here with each other.

Things are okay as long as you two are together, he thinks to himself before slowly starting to drift off to sleep.

•••

After breakfast the four of you head off. You have John park your rental car down the block hoping that the fresh air would help calm your nerves…

Or maybe you were just stalling.

John's leading the way, carrying your youngest in one arm and holding the oldest’s hand with the other.

The kids are both pretty excited to meet Theo. They took the news that their father has another child very well… That wasn’t surprising, as they're just kids and don't fully understand.

You, on the other hand, are a nervous wreck. You thought of what would happen if Nadia hates you, since John meeting you made him leave her, or what if Theo wants nothing to do with your kids, his half-siblings.

What if Nadia and John still have feelings for each other?

John looks over at you, noticing the slight panic and anxiety on your face even though you're trying to hide it from the kids. He keeps his expression calm, even when his heart feels like it's pounding out of his chest.

He knows you're going to have questions and feelings about this no matter what, but he just hopes the two of you can get through his visit with his other family without any more damage.

The four of you continue walking, the house that Nadia and Theo live in coming into full view. John's grip on your oldest’s hand tightens slightly, you could notice. He lets go of the five-year-old’s hand once you're all at the front door and he rings the doorbell.

After a moment Nadia stands in the doorway, her blonde hair pulled back in a claw clip, a small smile on her face...

Damn it, she's gorgeous.

She's older than you, John's age, with these gorgeous green eyes and the prettiest long eyelashes and full lips… She even has the cutest dimples in her cheeks.

You felt like couldn't even blame John if he decided today that he wants to go back to her.

John didn't really think much about Nadia's appearance. To him she was just an old flame of the past. She was beautiful, sure, but he had moved on years ago.

She was just his son’s mother.

But, seeing how you looked at her caused John a bit of pain. He knew it was bothering you. He wanted to assure you that there was nothing to worry about between the two of them, but he didn’t have a chance to do so just yet.

Instead, John smiles a bit as he starts to introduce you all.

"Nadia... Uh, this is Gabriel, my son.” Your oldest, just excited to see his older brother soon, waves a bit, "and this is Linnie, my little girl.” Your youngest, feeling shy around the stranger, buries her face into John’s chest.

John then gestures to you, turning his head towards you then glances back over at Nadia. "And this is Y/N... My, erm..."

"Ex-wife." You offer, blushing a bit. No need to complicate it. "It's really nice to meet you, Nadia. Thank you for letting us all be here."

Nadia smiles, genuinely. "Of course. I'm glad this is all finally happening. Come in, come in. Tea's on."

You follow behind John as we walk into Nadia's house, holding Gabriel's hand tightly.

John walks in with you and the kids, a lot of nervous energy still adiating from him. You sit at the table with everyone, holding your youngest in your lap now as your oldest sits between John and yourself.

"Where's my brother?" Your oldest whispers to John as Nadia sets tea in front of John and you, then herself as she sits across.

John looks down at your son and smiles, his nervousness temporarily gone when asked about Theo. "I'm sure he'll be out of his room in a moment."

Nadia just seems to be staring at John for a moment, her expression hard to read, before she smiles and gestures to the children. "These two are adorable."

"Thank you,” you laugh a bit. "They're a couple of little monkeys."

Nadia laughs as well, finding your description of your children funny. She takes a drink of her tea as she sets her cup down on the table. "They're beautiful. They really look like Theo when he was their ages."

As if on cue, Theo walks into the dining room.

Of course he’s gorgeous.

He looks like ten year old John.

He see's his dad and immediately runs up to him and hugs him tightly. You watch as John smiles widely, hugging his oldest son tightly.

Your oldest, upon seeing that John is now hugging his big brother, starts to get excited. He hops out of his seat and goes running towards Theo as well.

“Big brother!" The five year old’s arms immediately wrap around Theo and hugs him tightly as well. Theo hugs him back, unfazed, as if he's know him his entire life instead of this being their first time meeting.

"Oh my God…” You smile, the sight warming my heart.

Nadia seems to be having a similar reaction to you, grinning broadly as the two boys hug each other. She turns to look at your daughter for a moment, who just watches intently, taking in the sight of her brothers. She seems excited too, wiggling around in your lap to see them better.

"Do you want to meet Theo as well, little one?" Nadia asked her gently.

Your youngest nods shyly.

You put her on her feet, and the oldest child kneels down, anticipating a hug from the toddler.

Instead, the little one runs to Nadia and climbs into her lap for a hug instead. You and John both laugh, surprised by this.

Nadia smiles and wraps her arms around Linnie, hugging her tightly. Her embrace is comforting and reassuring to the bashful little one.

"It's nice to meet you, Theo." You finally smile at John and Nadia's son. "I'm Y/N."

Theo's smile grows as he sees you, his bright blue eyes studying you carefully almost like he's trying to memorize your appearance. "It's nice to meet you, too.”

"Can we play?!" Your oldest asked John’s oldest, then looked back to John for permission as well.

John nods quickly, giving him permission to play with his older brother. Nadia, meanwhile, just smiles and nods as well. "Theo has loads of Legos in his room. Go ahead. Get to know one another as well."

Your oldest smiles widely before following his “new” big brother to his room. Linnie just clings to Nadia's chest, looking between the two of you, trying to take everything in.

"I might just keep this little one." Nadia teased, hugging her a bit closer.

You can't help but smile. This isn't at all how you thought this would go.

It's so much better.

The boys are now playing in the room, building Legos and just enjoying each other's company. Your daughter seems content to be with Nadia, who's holding her in her lap, stroking her hair softly with her fingers and talking quietly with her.

You feel John take your hand under the table, squeezing it a bit as he sips his tea.

John leans in closely, whispering to you as Nadia speaks with your youngest. "Everything's goin’ well... right?"

You nod with a small smile, then sip at your tea as well. You watch as Nadia gets your little one to open up a bit, getting her to talk and giggle.

It only takes a few minutes before Nadia convinces the two year old to go into Theo's room and play with her big brothers, and to get to know Theo a bit. Now it's just her, John and you at the table.

John looks around and seems to sigh in relief, leaning back in his seat as he continues to squeeze your hand.

Nadia and you finally get a chance to have a proper conversation as the two of you continue to talk and sip on your tea.

Everything has gone so smoothly; especially now when Gabriel and Linnie seem to have just bonded with Theo like the three have known each other for years rather than just having met today.

John sighs a bit, smiling over at Nadia and you as she holds a conversation with you, seeming more than happy that things are working out.

For the first time in a long time, today he feels at ease, like everything's going just like it's supposed to go.

After spending the entire day together, You decide it's time to get the kiddos back to the rental and get them into bed.

John helps Nadia with the dishes after dinner while you help the kids clean up Theo's room after playing.

•••

You and John finish bathing the children after their long day and tuck them into the king bed once again.

John follows you into the other bedroom, shutting the door behind him as he goes over and sits on the edge of his bed. He just takes a deep breath in there, sighing as he rubs his face.

Today went well, sure. But that doesn’t exactly change anything between the two of you just yet.

You sit on John's lap, his arms instantly wrapping around your waist. It was just natural.

John just exhales. Your warmth against his chest helped him to feel at ease for a moment.

"Nadia is gorgeous." You sigh. "You didn't tell me that part."

John chuckles softly. "Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

"How can I not be?"

John rubs his thumb over the top of your thigh. "She's my past, love... We don't have... We've never had what you and I have."

You look at him, meeting his eyes. You try to find even a tiny hint of dishonestly.

That makes the next part harder.

“I don’t understand how you could have done that to them.” You start slowly. “The man I married isn’t a man that would just abandon his family for some random girl at a bar.”

You could feel John tense at your words. You stand up off of his lap now, pacing the room a bit.

“I didn’t abandon them-“

“You left your wife and child in a different country. What would you call that?” You retort.

“You don’t understand how things were between Nadia and I before I met you.” John insists. “It’s not like I left a happy marriage.”

“You still left your child.” You shake your head. “If you visit fucking Italy right now and meet a younger woman, would you leave Gabe and Linnie back in the states and only see them once a month? I always thought, ‘maybe John and I aren’t a good match, but at least he’s a good dad’… But I don’t know if I believe that anymore.”

“I’m a damn good dad. To all of them.” John defends himself through gritted teeth.

“You’ve been lying to my kids their whole lives!”

“Your kids?” John quirked an eyebrow at that.

“My kids.” You double down, arms crossed.

“I don’t wanna fight.” John sighs finally, rubbing his eyes. “Can we talk about this in the morning?”

“Fine.” You exit the room, going back to where the kids slept, leaving John alone.

<< prev next >>

[twsted-time]

Overblot bois vs dirty songs

How will the overblot bois react to their girlfriend listening (and dancing to dirty songs from her world.

CW: face fucking on Leona’s part. Established relationships. Mention of malleus having two cocks

Riddle:

Song: hips don’t lie

Face turns red immediately

You can’t tell if his embarrassed or angry

Collars you for being immoral (if you are in public)

If not he just scolds you for listening to such things.

Would forbid you to listen to them again.

“W-Why are you listening to something like that!?” He stuttered. “It’s a song from my world.” You whined. “A-Are all songs from your world this… dirty…” he trailed off. You shook your head. “No but there are worse out there.”

Leona

Song:MONTERO

Wonders why you woke him up.

When he sees how you are dancing to the song as well as listening to the lyrics he decides to just watch you.

Till you make a motion to the lyrics “Shot a child in your mouth while I’m riding”

Suddenly you don’t even to get finish the song as you are pushed to your knees with Leona infront of you.

You can barely breathe with the rough pass Leona had set thrusting into your throat. “Hah.. if you wanted to swallow my cum herbivore. You could hav said so. “ he panted out as his hands gripped your hair.

Azul:

Song: Daisy (don’t ask I wanna save some of the others for later)

Is appalled by how vulgar the song starts.

Then is also a bit put off by. How much the song curses.

Till it starts “I’m crazy but you like that. I bite back, daisies on your night stand”

He can’t help but watch how your hips move.

Is very glad you two are the only ones in the vip room

“My pearl must you move like that?” He asked trying not to look up at you by fake focusing on his contracts. You smile and wink at him before just continuing to dance. Managing to catch his gaze every now and then with a huge blush on his face.

Jamil

Song: candy shop

Is horrified at first

But his eyes can’t help but drift to your hips

Kinda realize the lyrics aren’t about candy

Try not to get too sexual with the song.

Right as you bend over hand over your pussy when the female voice goes ‘keep going till you hit the spot’ you feel his hand on your back. “My desert flower… I would very much appreciate it if you didn’t do that. You try to stand up but his hand is pushing on your back. “Jamil…” you could hear him groan a bit. Then you knew you were in for a long night.

Vil

Song: unholy

Shakes his head.

Can’t help but watch you through the mirror of his vanity.

Curses under his breath in German tho mostly can hide how you are effecting him.

Till you drop down and back up hands lifting up your hair. Fluffing up and push out your hips.

You find yourself pinned to his bed. “V-Vil?” You call out his name. “Du bist ein ungezogenes Mädchen... hoffen wir, dass deine Beine halten können” your lover spoke in his native tongue. Your eyes widened as he said. You knew exactly what you were in for that night.

Idia

Song: S&M

He was trying to play his game why must you distract him.

His hair turning pink gave him away to tell you what you wer doing was working.

Had to turn his mic off.

Ultimately ended up losing turning his chair around right on time to see you bent over ass facing him as you slowly begain to rise up.

Idia got up from. Having an unknown burst of what you could could call. Brat taming energy. Suddenly getting knocked off your feet with your usually shy boyfriend on top of you. “Y/N… I hope you are prepared to face the consequences for making me lose that match.” The night was filled with edging and overstimulation. Crying out that it was too much, but him telling you that you could take it.

Malleus

Song: spiritual healing

When he first hears the name he doesn’t think much I’ve it.

When the real song starts he looks confused then he watches your movements.

At “the way she suck my soul I need some spiritual healing.” He watched how your hips moved.

Malleus placed his hands on your hips and you could feel his hard cocks against your thigh. “Child of man. You should know better then to rile me up like that…” Your eye widened. “Safe word?” He asked. “Strawberry” he nodded. “Good” and that was the last thing you remember

[unhingedhiro]

clingy!cheol 2

words count -> >500. i think. it’s a rough estimate that doesn’t seem wrong

tags -> insomniac!reader, this is a projection zone around here, clingy!cheol as always, mentions of fainting from exhaustion, questionable grammar and proofreading as always, fluff, cheol might not fully know but he’s got the spirit, sleepy!cheol

tryna fight the insomnia because i actually have something to do tmrw and the insomnia is winning 🙏🙏 brought to you by a hiro who would give their left foot to have a cheol lull them to sleep by hugs

thinking cheol who knows his partner is a consistent insomniac, occasionally being jolted awake at three am in the morning from unexpected movements from you as you struggle to find the perfect comfy position, or from you typing away on your laptop either adding to the work you’d done earlier that day or trying out a new form of journaling. usually, he won’t mind it, watching with nothing but amusement and affection in his eyes as his sleep addled brain lulls him back to slumber once he has you in his arms again.

but sometimes, it’s different. sometimes, it’s endless hours of tossing and turning and cheol is often more than privy to the amount of frustration it causes you. he’ll awaken from whatever sleep he’s managed to provide himself to you leaving the bed, a sleepy whine just about escaping him.

“love, where’re you going?”

it takes a moment for you to realise he’s woken up, unsurprisingly from having had the warmth in his arms suddenly disappear.

“just gonna grab a glass of water, cheol.”

fatigue is evident in your voice, and he can tell that something’s not quite right.

“can’t sleep?”

it’s silence for a moment, until he sees your shoulders sag and a small sigh escapes you.

“yeah.”

with this, cheol is slowly shifting, forcing whatever energy he’s scraped together from his two hours of sleep to sit up, clearly intending to follow you to the kitchen. it elicits nothing but protests from you.

“hey, hey, cheol no, please go back to sleep, you’ve had such a tiring day today, i’ll be asleep soon i just need some time to clear my thoughts-“

“but i can’t.”

with this, you cock your head and cheol almost sheepishly explains before your expression can truly morph to that of a confused one.

“can’t sleep without you at my side anymore.”

oh.

bless this sweet man and his sweeter heart, you think, backtracking your way to his side of the bed to gently caress the strands of orange on his head, clearly fading from the vibrant red it was two weeks ago when he’d burst home, a proud grin on his face, awaiting your reaction to his new hair.

he leans into your touch, eyes closed, exhaustion evident on his face. eventually, he reaches up, gently pulling you onto his lap and into his arms.

“thoughts keeping you awake again?”

“mn.”, you hum, pressing your face into his chest. it’s soft, bringing forward a sense of comfort you never quite knew you needed as badly as you did right then.

cheol had always been privy to your insomnia - it had been there since the day he’d first fallen asleep by your side, had been there when it pushed you to fainting in the middle of work, and he’s now here, caressing your hair and pressing gentle kisses to your forehead.

cheol’s affections don’t particularly soothe you to sleep completely, but it brings you some sense of calm and comfort to be wrapped in his arms, nothing but soft touches and small, tired murmurs of “love you” falling from cheol’s lips.

you look up to his face, small smile dancing across your lips when you notice his eyes are closed once more, ghost of a smile on his face as he remains wrapped around you like a teddy bear. eventually, he’ll slump into the bed, taking you with him. eventually, you too feel exhaustion begin to get the better of you, the need for water and a walk beginning to escape you. perhaps next time, it would help to keep a water bottle beside your table.

and again, it’s not much, but it comforts the both of you to know you’re not waking yourself up further by walking around for a glass of water, and you’re getting your much needed pre-sleep hydration. once you’re ready to attempt to fall asleep again, cheol is ready to welcome you with open arms, a tired but satisfied look on his face as you fall into his embrace. it takes a while to fall asleep, as always, but it’s always less isolating and lonesome with cheol by your side, clinging onto you like you’ll crumble into dust when he lets go.

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Tread Carefully ~ S.S.

Request: “Stiles x male reader, reader getting hurt trying to protect stiles from a werewolf” by anon

Word Count: 1400+

MASTERLIST

Stiles had been harboring a crush on Lydia Martin for as long as he could remember. Even longer than Scott had known about it; and that was ages. So when he actually became friends with her, he'd thought he'd had a chance.

And then she'd dated Allison.

If he was honest, Stiles really hadn't ever considered that before. I mean yeah, he knew about queer people. But every time he brought it up, people had brushed it off and dismissed it. Stiles especially just wasn't - according to everyone. So he had never thought about it, until his old crush became one of his best friends and then she was taking about it all the time. Telling him about how happy she was, and when he asked, about how she'd realized she was into women. And suddenly he realized something he'd never considered before: he'd one hundred percent had a crush on Scott when they were kids. 

He didn't tell anyone for a long time. Well, anyone but Lydia. She was a fantastic confidante and an even better secret keeper. And she was good at keeping Stiles' sexuality a secret... until he developed a crush on her brother.

Y/n Martin was very different than his sister. They were a unit, they always had been, but where Lydia leaned into expectation to make herself popular and as perfect as possible, Y/n had leaned away from it. He didn't have a lot of friends, outside of the kids in the programming club, and some people he'd met over the internet. He was the type that knew high school was stupid, and thought that made him a little bit cooler than everyone else.

Stiles thought he was awesome. Y/n was putting as little effort into school as possible, focused less on college and more on learning to program and prepping himself to just do that forever. He was smart, which meant he knew that school didn't actually teach you anything you needed to know - as long as you knew what you were heading into. He often talked Lydia's ear off about how school was just preparing you to be part of the machine of society, and rolled his eyes when Lydia tried to get him into a "better outfit" or take him shopping.

But that was actually why Stiles liked him. They had math together, and Y/n made jokes under his breath and talked about how stupid it all was, and then leaned over and gave him pointers and help with the work in a way he could actually understand. He never ran out of patience and didn't find Stiles' burst of energy or hard time focusing or burn out annoying. He encouraged Stiles and hyped him up and when he did a good job and Y/n was leaning over his shoulder grinning at him, whispering compliments to him and joking about having to reward him one of these days, Stiles couldn't help but think that all he wanted in that moment was to kiss him.

Lydia picked up on it too fast. She was at first a little hesitant, making Stiles promise this wasn't about her, because her brother deserved better than being a replacement, but Stiles promised that wasn't it. And he proved it too, even if the pining looked the same. He talked to Y/n and became friends with him and fought against werewolves and other big-bads, and they bonded over being the only two just-humans on the team, but Stiles never reached out to him to tell him how he felt. Stiles didn't want anything from Y/n that he didn't want to offer; which was sweet except Lydia wanted to see her best friend and her brother happy.

So what was she to do except play match maker?

Her butting in was helping, too. Y/n was telling her all the time now about how he liked Stiles, how well they got along, all the stuff they were doing together. About his eyes and his smile and his laugh and how brave he was. About how they made so many plans together and learned to trust each other. About how nice his voice was, and how they studied together and often fell asleep late into the night and woke up next to each other.

And yet... it took Y/n almost dying for either of them to do anything about it.

It was a shit storm like all the others they had to live through. A battle, injuries all around, and Stiles and Y/n trying to find each other because this time they'd gotten separated. It was never good when those two got separated, they were both idiots.

Something that showed more than ever when Y/n rushed into the room, saw Stiles being cornered by a werewolf, and screamed at the top of his lungs. It was a faceless beast at this point, mind controlled by a spell that a witch had cast. She was making their lives hell, and this was only the most recent of poor bastards that had been mind controlled and sent their way. The only way to break the spell was to find the object that mattered to them most and destroy it. This worked because the witch had to cast the spell on such an object, and destroying it broke the spell. But she was aware of this, so she often sent her subjects after whoever found or had the object at the moment.

And right now, that person was Y/n.

So the werewolf turned, getting on all fours and shooting after the teenager, who's eyes went wide as he turned sharply and began barreling down the hallway as quickly as he could. It was a ploy to save Stiles' life, and it was a good one, but it couldn't last forever. The werewolf swiped at him, sending him flying one way and the thing he was carrying flying the other way. Derek arrived that moment, having been tied up before, and managed to fight the creature off while Stiles scrambled onto the scene and burned the object.

It was over.

But the damage had been done.

The pack brought them to Deaton, who immediately launched into stitching the poor boy up and lathering something on him to fight infection and help him heal faster. Then they were all left to simply wait and hope Y/n would wake up. He still had a heartbeat, but shock had hit his system and he still might not make it. A lot of blood lost, a really bad concussion...

Stiles of course never left Y/n's side. Y/n woke up to the boy asleep on his little make shift hospital bed, head on Y/n's leg, holding his hand. Y/n smiled, exhausted and sore and feeling like shit, but unable to deny that Stiles still looked adorable when he was asleep. Y/n ran his hand through Stiles' hair and the boy jolted up. "Oh." He blinked sleep out of his eyes, rubbing his face and shaking his head to clear it. "Hey."

Y/n laughed. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty," Y/n joked. His voice croaked from disuse and he flinched. "Jesus I sound like I died."

Stiles' smile withered. "You almost did."

There was silence at that. They couldn't meet each others' eyes, couldn't pass that stiffness and awkwardness. Neither of the boys were good with silence and always tried to scramble to crack jokes or entertain or cheer up, but Stiles' bluntness had shattered that. And it was kind of nice. Vulnerable.

"Stiles," Y/n began. "I... liked you." He sighed, shoulders dropping. "Like, really really like you. And I know it might ruin everything, and I don't want you to say you like me back because I almost died. I don't even need you to say anything right now, just, know I like you. And everyone knows you've always liked my sister but-"

At that, Stiles broke. He caught Y/n's face between his hand and pulled him into a kiss. They both sighed, smiling into it, and all the unspoken things seemed to be understood without any of the words needing to be said. They often communicated like this, with just an understanding, and no need for specifics or long rants. Leaning their foreheads together, Stiles still did say one thing. "I like you too." They both laughed, and all the tension melted away from both of them.

"Maybe next time you two need to talk about your feelings, one of you doesn't need to die for it?" Lydia sassed from the doorway. The boys parted, blushing, as she tackled her brother in a hug. But all of them laughed, and for now all of them were okay, and that... that could be enough. After all, they still had a witch to kill.

-

Male Readers: @ravenpuff-oli @sortzz @fadedver

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 6 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, mutual pining, SLOW BURN, mentions of smoking and other questionable decisions

words: 9.8k (🤐)

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 6 ► the fighting that i keep inviting could lead me to my grave

Two 4 AM trains in the span of 48 hours were more than you or Jungkook could handle, so both of you slept through nearly the entire nine-hour ride from Paris to Berlin. You only woke up for the transfer in Mannheim, but barely—hunger carried you both to the train station where you could buy warm pastries before going back to sleep.

By the time the two of you rejoined the band, you felt exhausted and disoriented. Although you didn’t regret the detour to Paris, you still struggled to imagine how Jungkook was going to manage to perform a show in Berlin tonight. You hoped the exhaustion from the trip would numb him down to just the right level of insanity that he’d be able to pull it off.

In any case, you sent him to get some sleep for a few hours before Rated Riot’s soundcheck, while you went to check up on the crew that you’d left unsupervised while you were in Paris.

Unsurprisingly, everything was under control: Seokjin kept a tight grip on the stage management crew—you probably wouldn’t have believed it if you hadn’t seen it time and time again, but someone who joked around at every chance he got still managed to have one of the strongest work ethics on tour—and Namjoon had kept the remaining members of Rated Riot busy.

If you hadn’t been exhausted to the point of confusion, you might have felt offended about how little you were needed here.

Half an hour later, Luna found you stumbling back into the tour bus.

“How was the wedding?” she asked straight away.

She wasn’t the type to conceal her eagerness when she was particularly curious about something—it was not even the wedding in this case, but your confrontation with Jungkook—but she still made sure to help you climb up the bus steps before you tumbled backwards and broke your neck.

You were far too tired to understand the expectations that hid behind her question, however, as you mumbled dejectedly, “I caught the bouquet.”

“You—” she began to say and then burst into laughter so unexpectedly that the roadie, who’d been unloading the stage equipment outside the bus, flinched in surprise. “You caught the bouquet! Of course, you caught the fucking bouquet.”

You wondered if you were too out of it to understand why this was so funny to her that she couldn’t stop laughing the entire ride to the venue, but you lacked the energy to ask.

“There was no ex,” you said as you glided towards your bunk while your amused friend stood back, covering up the sharp angles on your way with her hand. “Sid was just being an idiot. If I see him—well, I probably won’t do anything because I don’t know what the laws for assault are in Germany—are we in Germany? I’m so tired.”

Noticing your haphazard stream of thoughts, Luna pulled herself together and stopped laughing—but only for a short while—as she helped you reach your bunk.

“We are in Germany,” she confirmed. “Although I’m not sure where you are. How about you take a quick nap while the band does their soundcheck?”

“No, no. I have things to do now that I’m back. To make up for leaving.”

“Things are fine,” she assured you. You knew she was right, but your guilt was persistent. “Nothing fell apart while you were gone. The guys took care of themselves just fine. You’ve raised them well.”

You acknowledged the joke with a small, tired smile. That was good enough for Luna, who was starting to get worried your condition would require medical attention, considering how adamantly you were resisting her attempts to sit you down in your bunk—despite looking like you may fall asleep standing up.

“Are you sure?” you asked again.

“I am,” she said. “Sleep, okay? We’ll be fine.”

Somewhere deep in your exhausted subconsciousness, you realised how unprofessional it would be to take a nap while the band you managed went to the soundcheck on their own. But your eyes were closing without your say so, and you hardly could have helped anyone in a state like this anyway.

When you woke up several hours later, Rated Riot were doing their Meet & Greet according to schedule, and you felt much better—or, at least, good enough to return to your regular duties. You grabbed a Snickers bar from the mini-fridge, and then went out of the bus and into the venue.

As it turned out, it was only the stage management crew and the producers who had kept things in control; they were the ones who hadn’t noticed your absence. Unfortunately, everyone else had.

Luna was kind when she told you that nothing fell apart while you were gone.

Some things wobbled, and there were several rushed phone calls you had to make to fix it—namely, to make up for one of the interviews that Rated Riot missed because they were doing another interview, which wasn’t initially scheduled— but you were grateful for all of it. The sudden rush of adrenaline completely woke you up.

Meanwhile, Jungkook was doing jumping jacks in the changing room to keep himself awake after he managed to survive the Meet & Greet. It wasn’t terrible—it was, actually, very inspiring as these events tended to be—but he couldn’t stop apologising to the fans for his incessant yawning. It just wasn’t right. He was better than that—the fans deserved his complete presence.

The other Rated Riot members were getting snacks at the buffet on the first floor; they planned to go exploring Berlin for an hour or two before the show. Aware of that, Sid, Jude, and Minjun found their way into the changing room.

Their arrival stopped Jungkook’s exercise before they even announced their entrance. For a minute, the four of them regarded each other in complete silence.

Even Jude was quiet this time. As it turned out, his earlier sneezing was a lesser-known withdrawal symptom that one night out in the city seemed to fix—at least that’s what he informed everyone in the group chat. Jungkook wanted to know nothing about it; he rarely drew lines with his friends, but he drew one here. His preferred method of intoxication had always been alcohol and cigarettes, he never needed more thrills.

“Well!” Jungkook finally exclaimed. “If it isn’t my four-thousand dollars.”

Even if his friends hadn’t seen you two leave together the other day, everyone travelling with Rated Riot was aware that the manager of the band was going to be gone for a day, because she was taking a trip to Paris with Jungkook.

Sid mumbled something incoherent while Jude shook his head, and Minjun just stood there, hands in his pockets. He was the one who spoke up first, glancing between the three other boys.

“It seems like he won fair and square,” he said to Sid and Jude, both of whom appeared to be looking for loopholes. “I see no appeals.”

“That’s right,” Jungkook declared. “I did win fair. Even though some of you tried to play dirty.”

He only glanced at Sid as he said this—the insinuation obvious enough—but his friend reacted like he’d been shot.

“I didn’t even say anything to her!” he defended. Jungkook couldn’t help a knowing grin—he hadn’t even said anything about Sid talking to you. Irritably, Sid continued, “and how did you even win, exactly? We bet on a date, not a—whatever the fuck you two did.”

“We went on a date,” Jungkook said again, taking pride in his calm tone and the way it seemed to cause steam to come out of Sid’s ears. “To a wedding. Do I get an extra $500 for how romantic that is?”

Really, he didn’t care about the extra money. He cared about Sid’s reaction—and it was satisfying. The older boy rolled his eyes and kept toying with his hands: crossing, then uncrossing them, stuffing them in his pockets, then resting them on the back of a chair in front of him.

Finally, he said, “you went as friends.”

“She was my date,” Jungkook reiterated. “That’s how weddings work. You don’t bring friends, you bring dates.”

“That’s not—” Jude tried to interject, but Sid extended a dangerous hand and cut him off with this gesture alone.

“Did you kiss her at the end of this date?” he asked, the last word sounding more like a synonym for a massacre than a romantic night out on his lips.

Jungkook frowned at him. “How is that relevant to the bet?”

“It’s the most important part. That’s the one thing that separates your—your outing from actual dates.”

Jungkook swallowed and looked at his other friends. Jude seemed distracted, not paying much attention to the conversation at all, while Minjun just appeared uncomfortable like he had the first time he found out about the bet. Neither of them jumped to his side or even offered a sympathetic nod.

“That wasn’t what we talked about when we agreed to the bet,” Jungkook said. His voice lacked certainty and Sid picked up on it immediately.

“That’s literally how dates go,” he said and broke off into a leisurely stroll around the changing room. His previous resentment had long but faded as he explained, “you spend time together, you talk, whatever—then you kiss.”

“Sid, my man,” Minjun waited until Sid stopped walking, then patted him on the back, mocking comfort. “This reasoning is not on your side at all.”

“Yeah,” Jude agreed, snorting. “By this logic, you’ve never been on a single date in your whole life.”

Sid pushed his tongue into his cheek in annoyance, and even Jungkook grinned as the two boys high-fived over Sid’s head.

“It was a date,” Jungkook repeated once more. “Stop looking for ways out of it and go get my money.”

Jude pushed his hand into his back pocket where he kept his wallet—this didn’t seem to faze him much; for someone who had an abundance of it, this was just money—but Sid extended his hand again, signalling for him to stop. Clearly, it wasn’t just money for him. It was a matter of pride.

“Dude, you have got to stop doing that,” Jude said as Sid’s arm smacked him on the chest. “I’m not a fucking dog.”

Ignoring him, Sid narrowed his eyes at Jungkook. “You went to that wedding as friends and you know it.”

“Actually, thanks to you, I barely went to that wedding at all,” Jungkook shot back. He took one step closer to Sid with each sentence that followed, “but I did. And I took her as my date. Just like I said I would. So, pay up.”

By the time he finished speaking, he was right in front of him—and, therefore, had the best seats in the house to witness Sid actually hesitate, likely for the first time in his life.

Still, Sid clicked his tongue and said, “I don’t think so.”

Throwing his head back with a groan, Jungkook placed his hands on his hips.

“Sounds like you’re too idiotic to admit you lost,” he said. “Now what?”

He’d meant the question for the rest of his friends, but it was Sid who needed less than two seconds to offer a solution.

“We’ll use a referee,” he said, turning around. “Minjun?”

Clearly not having expected to be assigned this role, Minjun opened his mouth in surprise, then closed it again.

“What—why do I have to referee?” he asked after a moment. “I wasn’t even there when you made the bet.”

“That’s exactly why,” Sid said. “Jungkook, Jude and I are involved. You’re the only one who can be impartial.”

Jungkook didn’t protest; he didn’t see the point. Minjun was more level-headed than Sid, so he liked those odds. Not to mention, he’d always had a different friendship with Minjun, one that actually felt like a friendship. So, he only shrugged when Minjun glanced at him as if asking if he agreed with this.

Noticing this, Sid wondered, for a split-second, if Minjun really could be as impartial as he thought he’d be (and he’d thought that, of course, Minjun would swing more in his direction—all of Sid’s friends did, that’s why they were his friends).

“Fine,” Minjun decided, making his way to the middle of the changing room. “Sit down. Tell us about the date.”

All three of them obediently relocated to the couch. Jungkook had to sit on the armrest because Sid and Jude took up the entirety of the loveseat with their exceptional talent at manspreading.

“What else do you want me to say?” he asked. “I already told you everything.”

“That was barely anything,” Sid protested next to him.

Jungkook was about to argue back, but Minjun spoke first, “Sid’s right. I need to know more details so I can make an informed decision.”

Jungkook didn’t know if that was fair—he’d taken you out on a date, he’d won—and he didn’t want to share anything else with them. This seemed like Sid’s way to rile him up even more, and the rest of his friends played along with it.

“We went to a wedding,” he said.

“You already said that,” Minjun pointed out.

“Okay,” Jungkook clenched his jaw. Then added, “we took a train to get there.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Jude was the one who got annoyed first as he groaned and locked his hands behind his head. “If that’s all you did, you definitely didn’t go to that wedding as dates. You barely went as friends, my man.”

Offended, Jungkook shuffled in his seat, trying to throw one leg over the other, but nearly losing his balance on the armrest as he did. He settled back into his previous stoic position.

“That’s—that’s not all we did,” he said awkwardly.

“Okay, so what else?” Minjun encouraged. “Did you talk?”

“No, we mimed to make it more fun,” he deadpanned. “Of course, we fucking talked. We talked the whole time on the train.”

Ignoring his wit, Minjun gave a thoughtful nod. “Okay. So, that’s what? Fifteen hours of non-stop talking? That’s a point for Jungkook.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sid immediately perked up, leaning forward with so much force that he nearly knocked Jungkook off the armrest. “But how do we know he’s not lying to us?”

Jungkook thought he might start throwing things. He wasn’t sure how he felt about whatever this was, but it sure reminded him of an interrogation, and he couldn’t help feeling defensive—to the point of physical violence if that’s what it took. But Minjun took his role as a referee very seriously.

“Because I have to pry information about this date out of him,” he said. Sid leaned back in his seat, smacking his lips in resignation. Minjun added, this time throwing a warning look at Jungkook, “and because if he says something I have a hard time believing, I’ll go straight to the other source.”

Jungkook widened his eyes, near-frantic. “You can’t ask her. She’ll kick me out of the band. She’ll never fucking speak to me again!”

Unsure which consequence Jungkook was more afraid of, Minjun nodded and said, gentler now, “then don’t lie.”

“I haven’t lied once,” he argued, picking up a decorative pillow off the floor—it must have fallen there when the two boys sat down on the couch—and tossing it at Sid, who caught it before it hit his face. “Your distrustful ass needs to shut up and quit whining. You fucking lost.”

“I didn’t fucking—”

“Focus,” Minjun said firmly—like a teacher, trying to discipline unruly kindergartners. “Jungkook. What did you talk about? How many mentions of your feelings for each other?”

Jungkook closed his eyes at the question, pushing his chin forward, an expression of blatant disbelief on his face.

“How many mentions of—what the fuck?” he spoke, unable to repeat the question without scoffing. He opened his eyes to look at each one of his friends. “Have any of you ever been on a real date?”

“I’d be on one right now if we weren’t holding court about a fucking bet,” Jude mumbled, his stare vacant as he clearly shifted in and out of focus on this conversation.

“I take it no mentions, then,” Minjun concluded.

“Of course, no mentions,” Jungkook groaned, throwing his hands in the air. “Who the fuck—”

“1-1,” Minjun declared, cutting him off. Cursing under his breath at the ridiculous, almost unrealistic turn that this bet had taken, Jungkook pushed himself deeper into the armrest, his side purposefully digging into Sid’s. Minjun asked, “how much time did you spend together—just the two of you—excluding the time on the train?”

“Wh—okay,” the vocalist inhaled, figuring he’d have to actually answer this one or else his friend would vote in Sid’s favour again. “We took a cab to the wedding. And walked around the Champs-Elysées.”

“Good, good,” Minjun nodded. “Was there any sort of—"

“Wait,” Jungkook stopped him, “don’t I get a point for that?”

“For what?” Sid interjected. “Walking down the street with her?”

“It wasn’t a fucking—”

“You get half a point,” Minjun said. “Now was there any sort of physical touching? Any hugs? Embraces?”

Again, Jungkook was forced to give his friends questioning looks. He felt incredulous—not just because it was starting to seem likely that he’d lose the bet, but also because they were forcing him to share the parts of his life that he’d never shared with anyone other than you before.

“You’re exploiting the shit out of me right now,” he said.

Minjun groaned and proceeded to curse as he spun around his axis, finally losing patience—not with Jungkook per se. He was just tired of being the middleman in a very stupid, childish game.

“We’re literally trying to find out if you were on a date or not,” he said louder. “Why is it so hard for you to just answer the questions and get this over with?”

“Because it’s my fucking business!” Jungkook snapped, jumping to his feet. “We never agreed that I’d have to share any details about the date. Just the fact that there even was a date was supposed to be enough.”

“But we don’t know if there was a date,” Sid argued—in every way that Jungkook appeared agitated right now, Sid came off as victorious. He knew this wasn’t looking good for Jungkook. “That’s the whole point.”

“Why the fuck would I take her to Paris,” he demanded, aware that he was yelling now, “if not for a fucking date?!”

“Because you’re in love with her,” Sid shot back. The relative calmness of his voice in comparison to his only pissed Jungkook off more.

Both of them were standing now, but Sid, who was only taller by a few centimetres, somehow always had the upper hand—not just in this conversation, but in their friendship, too.

In barely fifteen minutes, the tables had turned completely, and Jungkook was the one losing control of himself.

“That has nothing to do with—oh my God,” he covered his face with his hands and turned his back to his friends, giving up. “Okay. Fine. I can’t do this shit.”

“So, you admit defeat?” Sid asked—Jungkook could hear the grin on his friend’s face without looking at him.

“I admit nothing,” he grumbled.

“If you can’t prove it was a date, you lose.”

Turning around to look at him, Jungkook shrugged with exaggerated intensity as he asked through a humourless laugh, “how would I prove it? Everything I say sounds like a joke to you three.”

“I wasn’t laughing,” Jude spoke up suddenly—another return to the home planet—and then mumbled, “you’re not very funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be—” Jungkook stopped and inhaled sharply. He’d grown tired of playing this courtroom drama with the three of them. “Alright. I need to get ready for the show.”

All three of his friends understood the subtle indication that Jungkook was kicking them out of the changing room—Minjun turned towards the door and Jude stood up from the couch. But Sid stood still.

“The keys,” he said.

Jungkook frowned. “What?”

“Hand over the keys.”

Clenching his jaw, Jungkook kept eye contact with him for a minute before saying firmly, “I’m not handing you anything.”

“You lost the bet,” Sid said—his voice gaining a dangerous edge now that Jungkook wasn’t complying. “The Katana is mine.”

Jungkook pursed his lips as he continued to stare defiantly into his friend’s eyes.

“If I can’t prove it was a date,” he said, “then you can’t prove it wasn’t.”

The two of them watched each other for another minute until Sid licked his lips and nodded, signalling that—for once—he agreed to disagree.

“Alright,” he said, looking around the room. Jungkook did not feel relief. He felt tension. “I see how it is. How about we adjust the conditions of the bet, then?”

Even though he was sure he didn’t want to know, Jungkook still asked, “what does that mean?”

“If you manage to get back together with her,” Sid proposed, “we’ll all pay you $5000 each.”

Just as Jungkook lifted his eyebrows, Minjun furrowed his, declaring right away, “don’t include me in your shit.”

“Fine,” Sid agreed. Then clarified to Jungkook, “Jude and I will pay you $5000 each.”

It took Jude a moment to react, and he, too, tried to back out of this. “I don’t think I—”

“You were in the original bet,” Sid said, shooting a warning look his way, “you can’t get out now.”

Jude wasn’t very pleased with having to go through this again—even if the first bet didn’t, technically, cost him anything. He relented, though, because he always did, “fine, you bitch.”

Sid looked back at Jungkook, waiting for his response.

Aware of the predicament that he’d found himself in—or, rather, that Sid had manipulated him in—Jungkook crossed his arms on his chest and took his time before speaking up.

“And if I disagree?” he asked.

“Well, you have two options here,” Sid said, “either you give the keys to me because you lost the previous bet, or you hand the keys over to Minjun, our impartial referee, while I wait for you to lose this updated bet.”

Minjun rolled his eyes again, annoyed that he still couldn’t escape being involved in Sid’s game.

Jungkook, on the other hand, needed another minute. He’d definitely prefer to give Minjun the keys—just because he knew Minjun might give them back to him.

“So, just to be clear,” Jungkook started slowly, “you’re saying that if I get back together with her, I’m keeping the Katana and getting 10K?”

“Yes,” Sid confirmed. “And if you don’t, the bike’s ours. We’ll find good use for it. How does that sound?”

Like signing your soul over for the devil, that’s how it sounded.

Jungkook shook his head. A date was a date, he thought you would find a way to let that slide if you accidentally found out. But his relationship with you wasn’t for sale.

“I don’t think so,” he said.

Sid took it well, merely shrugging as he extended his hand, palm up. “Well, then hand over the keys.”

Agitated again, Jungkook smacked his palm against Sid’s. “Get out of here. I’m not fucking—”

“You lost the bet,” Sid repeated, enunciating each word so loudly, it cut Jungkook off. “The Katana is fucking mine, I’m just generous enough to give you another chance to win it back.”

“It’s not fucking yours.”

“He’s right,” Jude spoke up again—very unhappy that he was only remembered when the topic turned to him paying. “It’s technically ours.”

“It’s mine,” Jungkook said, taking a moment to look at both, Sid and Jude, as he repeated, “I didn’t lose.”

“Then you have no choice,” Sid concluded. “The bet is ongoing.”

“How is it ongoing?” he argued. “It’s one thing to go on a date—”

“Which you didn’t,” Sid interjected.

“—which I did,” Jungkook countered, his eyes burning with a flame so angry, it was almost a miracle Sid didn’t immediately catch fire. “But you’re suggesting a completely different thing now. Starting a relationship is not the same. Especially if it’s a relationship with someone you already dated before.”

“I know,” Sid said, seemingly unbothered. Jungkook wondered why, because his friend didn’t look pleased, either. He didn’t look like he’d tricked him, like he knew he’d win for sure.

Clearly then, Sid had to think that the odds of winning this bet were, more or less, equal for both of them. That had to mean that a part of him believed that Jungkook could really get back together with you.

Consequently, Jungkook realised that Sid wasn’t, really, suggesting anything at all. He was simply telling him that this was how it was going to be from now on.

“I can’t do that just randomly,” he said. “I can’t just approach her and ask her this. It’s—”

“Two weeks,” Sid said. “That enough for you?”

Jungkook swallowed.

Even though he wanted this, he knew that attempting to get back together with you now could jeopardize everything that you’ve done in the past two years as Rated Riot’s manager. Jungkook didn’t think he wanted to burn down the same bridges that the two of you had built back from the ground up.

That being said, there was a glimmer of hope—very obscure, barely there, not even visible, really, just faintly humming somewhere about his chest—that you would get back together, and his reward wouldn’t just be $10 000.

It’d also be a future with you; the very same one that he could sense in Paris.

He knew he didn’t need a bet to bring this future to the present. If anything, the bet might hinder the progress of your relationship. But if there was a possibility that he’d get everything: you, his bike, and the defeat of Sid; if there was a possibility that, for once, the idiot would lose and all of his shit-talking would come back to make him miserable… Jungkook was on the edge of considering it.

Smirking as the younger boy bit his lip in anxious contemplation, Sid looked at the other two guys in the room and announced cheerfully, “you’re actually doubting this!”

“I’m not doubting the time frame,” Jungkook said. “I’m doubting if you’ll keep your end of the deal since you’re very much fucking me over right now.”

Sid rolled his eyes.

“We can write the conditions down and have Minjun stamp it if that makes you feel better,” he said.

Minjun—the designated lawyer, apparently—groaned, but did not audibly object. This wasn’t a conversation involving him—it barely involved Jude, who was, technically, part of the bet—so he stood back and watched the face-off on the sidelines.

“Stamp it with what?” Jungkook asked, finding this excessive. “Our blood?”

“Anything that makes you feel better.”

Jungkook brought his tongue over his teeth as he thought this over.

He couldn’t do this.

But how could he not? If he gave his bike up now, if he dropped out of the bet, Sid would be free to find you and tell you about it—acting like he didn’t mean it. Like he was just showing off the bike that Jungkook gave him, and the bet simply came up. And then, not only would Jungkook lose his Katana, but he’d definitely lose you, too.

No, he had to be the one who told you about this in hopes that, once your initial anger faded, you would cooperate with him. Not for the Katana, but to make Sid fail. And maybe that could be what brought you together, what made you stay together even after the bet ended.

It’s the only way he could win.

Sighing, he asked. “What are the conditions?”

“First of all,” Sid started—glancing at Minjun who pulled his phone out to write it down. iPhones seemed more formal than bar napkins and Jungkook bit his lip, realising this was serious as Sid dictated the rules, “you both have to be aware that you’re back together.”

“That’s already a given.”

“Not with you it isn’t, you sneaky shit,” Sid disagreed, the seemingly innocent smile on his face concealing his anger about not having gotten his way with the first bet.

“Fine,” Jungkook agreed and immediately offered his own condition, “then you can’t talk to her about the bet or attempt to ruin this for me. Just sit back and wait until it’s over.”

Sid considered this. “Alright. But you can’t tell her anything, either. If I find out that the two of you plotted against me, the deal’s off and the bike is mine.”

Jungkook was the one who needed a minute this time.

Obviously, Sid had single-handedly ruined a plan that, Jungkook now realised, wasn’t very well-developed to begin with. But Sid’s satisfied mug pushed him to clench his jaw and agree anyway.

“Fine,” he settled. “I won’t tell her anything.”

It could still be okay, he hoped. He would just have to find a different way.

Perhaps, he thought suddenly, he could drag this out long enough that Sid would forget about it. Even two weeks could be plenty if enough happened to distract him—or if Jungkook stopped talking about it altogether.

Both boys looked over at Minjun, who typed for two more seconds, then looked up at each of them and nodded.

“The keys,” Sid reminded Jungkook.

Groaning, he pulled them out and passed them over to Minjun who had the decency to look apologetic as he took them from him.

“So,” Sid continued then, grinning mischievously as he extended his hand. “Do we shake on it?”

Jungkook knew he had a big head when it came to talking about this, but he also knew that actually making this happen would be a true challenge. He wasn’t sure if he could do this. He was sure he didn’t want to do this.

But if he succeeded—fuck—he’d get you back. There was hardly anything else in this world he would still want. Maybe a nice meal every now and then, but he’d make do with dry ramen noodles until the end of his days if he had to.

Fuck.

He liked his odds; the date at Kihyun’s wedding went well, after all. But Jungkook could also recall—very vividly—you telling him that you didn’t believe in second chances. Not to mention, you’d been very explicit when you’d asked him not to lie to you again.

Fuck.

“You’re sure taking your sweet time,” Sid teased, his hand still hanging in the air. “Not so sure of yourself anymore?”

It had to get worse before it got better, Jungkook told himself.

He had to agree to this, first of all, to find a way out. Then, he had to win to turn this bet into a distant memory with minimal consequences, to make it almost like it never even happened before—without you knowing, without him losing his bike, without Sid fucking winning.

And, most importantly, through this, he had to find his way back to you.

“Oh, I’m sure,” he lied—he did it well and he could tell, based on the way Sid narrowed his eyes when Jungkook’s palm touched his. “You’re fucking pitiful. But I’m still going to win this.”

Jungkook was worried he’d have a hard time performing after agreeing to the bet, but the concert in Berlin, surprisingly, worked as a distraction.

He sensed the irony: once, he’d used the bet to distract him from the anxiety of the tour. Now he had to perform in order to distract himself from the bet.

Still, once the show finished, Minjun saw the vacancy behind Jungkook’s eyes, and it unsettled him. Wanting to take his friend’s mind off this, he suggested getting drinks once the bus arrived in Copenhagen.

Jungkook took that to assume it’d only be the two of them going out, leaving Sid and Jude to occupy themselves with something else, and he didn’t mind that at all.

But this was where unforeseen circumstances altered their plans.

While the band was having after-show drinks backstage in Berlin, the crew dismantled the stage set: several bars of batten were dropped, causing minor injuries for the staff members in charge of the deconstruction. They didn’t need medical attention, thankfully, but the equipment had been broken—decorative light fixtures with Rated Riot’s logo that were supported on the battens had shattered and the metal pipe constructions had come apart.

You were informed that it would take approximately two hours to salvage what was fixable and load the equipment back onto the buses before you could leave for Copenhagen. Naturally, you were concerned about the state of the staff—if they could even drive after this—but they assured you they were fine. Still, you insisted they rested after having reassembled the equipment and assessed the damage.

Finally, everyone settled on leaving Berlin at five or six in the morning—that gave you, at least, five more hours in the city.

While this might turn out to be a logistical challenge for you and the rest of the roadies, it was an opportunity for Minjun, who immediately pulled Jungkook outside, already looking up the closest bars.

“No time like the present,” he’d said after Jungkook questioned what happened to getting drinks in Denmark. “We grab something here, get some sleep, and then grab something else once we arrive.”

Most unfortunately, Sid and Jude also saw this as an opportunity to get drunk, and did not hesitate to invite themselves to join the other two boys.

Technically, Jungkook and Minjun didn’t even realise that they weren’t the only ones entering the bar until Sid ordered them to get a table while he and Jude went to get drinks.

They were always the ones who picked the drinks for the night, and, for the first time in his life, Jungkook felt a little concerned—Sid and Jude always, without a fail, chose the drinks with the highest alcohol concentration.

“Why do you care?” Minjun asked as the two of them settled in the booth of the bar. “You’ve only passed out drunk, maybe, three times in your whole life.”

“I haven’t slept properly in two days,” Jungkook said. “So the fourth time might be tonight. And if that happens—”

“Don’t worry. I’ll personally carry you home,” Minjun replied. “I’m not getting your girl involved.”

“What girl?” Sid asked, returning with a tray. The question was unnecessary, really; he was already grinning anyway. “Last time I checked, she wanted nothing to do with you and only went to Paris with you out of—”

“One more word about it,” Jungkook said, “and I’m leaving you stranded in Germany.”

“Sensitive,” Sid commented and sat down next to him while Jude climbed into the booth next to Minjun. “Alright. Let’s get you loosened up, you’re awfully uptight.”

Minjun noticed that whatever Jungkook prepared to respond with wasn’t going to be pretty. He wanted to avoid confrontation and pushed the highball glass towards him.

While Jungkook drank, Minjun made sure to shift the topic: staying close enough to the bet so that Sid would remain entertained, but making sure to drift away from you, so Jungkook wouldn’t be triggered, either.

“How’s the engine on your Katana?” he asked. “All good?”

The question seemed innocent enough, but Jungkook saw through this plan as he swallowed his drink. He gave his friend a look—Minjun wasn’t sure if it was grateful or just confused—as he put his glass down and wiped his mouth with the back of his palm.

“It’s fine,” he said. “The oil’s leaking, though. I still don’t know why.”

“The gasket has worn out, probably,” Jude offered right away. If he didn’t have a trust fund bigger than ideas what to do with it, he might have genuinely considered becoming a mechanic.

“It couldn’t have,” Jungkook said. “I just changed it.”

“Did you change all the plugs, too?” Sid asked. He could tell from the look in Jungkook’s eyes as he took another sip instead of answering that he hadn’t. “You don’t know how to take care of it properly. I told you that you should have let me look at it. It’s why I’m going to be—”

“You break everything you touch,” Jude accused before Sid could elaborate further. “Let me take a look at it when we get back.”

Jungkook’s three friends – although significantly wealthier than he was – had always had a soft spot for anything that had wheels. It started out with tuning their bikes when they were fifteen and turned into purchasing their own vehicles when they got older: which meant Sid, Jude, and Minjun getting their first cars at seventeen, and Jungkook purchasing his Katana as soon as he made enough money for it. Minjun had known this when he asked the question that started the conversation.

And so, for the next hour and a half, the four of them immersed themselves in a discussion about Jungkook’s Katana, Sid’s vast collection of chevies (nevermind that he’d inherited the first Chevrolet from his grandfather, and the rest were gifted to him by his parents), and Jude’s latest hobby: restoring his 2002 Nissan Skyline after he’d wrecked it drag-racing.

“See, I knew no one should let you drive,” Sid said—he’d already had five drinks at that point and was, therefore, rocking gently in his seat.

“You’re one to fucking talk” Jude heated up, equally as drunk. “You can’t tell the wheel from your ass.”

Jungkook snickered as he sipped his drink.

Minjun took over the argument, “you’re both shit, actually. As far as I remember, Jungkook and I won most of our races. But I was driving in all of them, of course.”

Here, Jungkook raised his head, his eyebrows furrowed in offence.

“Not true,” he said indignantly. “I was driving at least once when we won.”

Minjun gave him a look. “You crashed into a wall that time.”

“We still won, though.”

“Because Sid dented someone’s fence and lost a tire a minute before you!”

“Still,” Jungkook said with a pout that he was not aware of. Then, he added a very important, “I’m not that bad of a driver.”

There was irony in Minjun’s laugh as he shook his head and began to list off the consequences of their win, “both of us had whiplash. The car was totalled. Your girlfriend nearly left you.”

Jungkook put his glass down with more force than intended—any mention of you sent a signal into his subconsciousness, as it seemed. “Okay, that’s—that’s a different thing.”

“How is that a different thing?” Minjun did not relent. “You’d even named the car after her.”

“Are you implying I crashed it because I’d named it after her?”

“I’m saying if you can’t drive a car you named after your girl, then how can you—”

“You know what?” Sid cut in, growing bored. He pulled his phone out and nearly dropped it as he smacked his elbow into the edge of the table. Hissing in pain, he lifted his phone off the settee and clutched his arm, “fucking shit. God. We need a new race to settle it. You and Minjun wouldn’t be on the same team for once. You think we could rent out cars here?”

He was already browsing on his phone when Minjun snorted. “Definitely not at four in the morning.”

“We could do it tomorrow,” Jude suggested. Sid nodded right away. Jude pointed his glass at his friend’s phone and said, “look up rental places in Denmark.”

If Jungkook wasn’t so tired—and the two Manhattans he’d consumed didn’t help, either—he would have been surprised that Jude knew his European countries well enough to recognize Copenhagen as the capital of Denmark. Instead, he pulled his own phone out of his pocket.

“Actually,” he said then. “Maybe we should go. The bar closes soon, and we have to get back to the bus.”

Sid lifted his eyebrows and looked at his friends for support—Jude was already gathering his belongings, and Minjun was already halfway out of the booth, too.

“Wow,” Sid said, despite being the only one who had a problem with Jungkook’s statement. “What’d she do to you? You’re no fun.”

“I agree with him,” Minjun cut in before Jungkook could say—or throw, as he clutched his empty glass—anything else. “We should go.”

Rolling his eyes and grunting about how boring everyone had gotten in Europe, Sid pushed past them to exit the booth and headed to the bathroom before they left. Minjun made him swear not to drink anything else on his way back, and the rest of the boys went outside to wait.

Meanwhile, you had been busy helping the roadies out—before they politely escorted you outside, claiming that they were stressed out by the endless phone calls you were getting from the label after they heard of the problems with the stage set—so you hadn’t seen Jungkook leave with his friends.

But Maggie—friend, tour photographer, social drinker with an alcohol tolerance that could have knocked Jungkook out—had spotted them. And it gave her a wonderful idea the second she saw you lingering by the exit of the venue.

“Since we’re stuck in Berlin,” she had announced to you, “let’s do something with it.”

It had sounded like a suggestion only for a second—immediately after she said it, she grabbed your hand and pulled you after herself to find Luna. It wouldn’t have been a proper night out if the three of you weren’t together.

Not many bars were still open at nearly four in the morning, but Maggie seemed to have a radar—the three of you were in a booth at the very back of some half-deserted pub before the remaining 20% of your phone battery could run out.

“I don’t think I should have left, to be honest,” you said, your hand hesitating around the cocktail glass that Maggie had ordered for you as soon as you walked inside. “We were having kind of a crisis back there.”

“You weren’t doing anything,” Maggie replied. She was sitting next to you and leaned over to pat your back in a comforting manner as she admitted, “I overheard Otto call Seokjin to come pick you up and get you out of there.”

Otto was one of the roadies and Seokjin’s right hand backstage. You didn’t know he initiated your removal from the venue, and you didn’t particularly like being excluded when you thought you could have been helpful. Clearly, the stage management team thought otherwise.

“I’m with Maggie,” Luna said; she knew you’d expect her to back you up, so she spoke before you could. “If something happens, you can still go back. A few drinks won’t hurt.”

“Yeah, and besides,” Maggie raised her glass, “if the boys get to drink, we should, too.”

The two girls laughed at this, clinking their glasses—it seemed like an appropriate toast—but you needed another minute in your managerial role before you could fully detach yourself.

“What do you mean?” you asked. “Who’s drinking?”

You directed your attention at Luna—your gaze inquiring about her boyfriend’s whereabouts—and she swallowed her drink before speaking. “I don’t know. Taehyung is asleep on the bus.”

“It’s Jungkook,” Maggie answered you. “I saw him leave with his friends.”

You closed your eyes, realising that you should have expected this.

Everything seemed to have been decided for you – you weren’t required back at the venue and you couldn’t, exactly, stumble around the streets of Berlin in search of Jungkook and his friends, either.

If anything, you were required here as your friends watched you expectantly.

They were right, really. A few drinks weren’t going to be a problem if you’d get a call (that is, if your phone wouldn’t die until then). And you were tired, anyway—to the point where sleep evaded you sometimes, just because you craved it so much. Alcohol might even help in this case.

However, as soon as you finally tasted the cocktail in your glass, you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You glanced at your friends first—they were either lifting their eyebrows (in Maggie’s case) or rolling their eyes (in Luna’s)—then you swallowed and turned around.

“What a coincidence!” Sid exclaimed when your eyes met.

A part of you—a dark impulse that you didn’t try particularly hard to control—wanted to toss your remaining drink right at him; like holy water at a possessed child. Begone, demon.

Before you could react, however, Jungkook rushed into the bar from outside. You merely had enough time to grasp what was happening—the bar that Maggie had picked happened to be the same one that Jungkook and his friends had been drinking in—before Jungkook pulled on Sid’s shoulder, forcefully dragging him away from you.

“He was just leaving,” he said briskly.

Sid tried to resist, but Jungkook had more strength—and far more determination. “I wasn’t. I’m actually—”

“He’s leaving,” Jungkook repeated with a strictness in his voice that you weren’t sure you’d heard before.

“What are you even doing here?” Sid whined at his friend as he was tossed to a side that was furthest away from you. “I thought you were waiting outside.”

“You took too long,” Jungkook mumbled. “Go.”

Sid groaned, but allowed the younger boy to literally drag him away. Once Minjun was close enough, he took over and grabbed the side of Sid’s jacket, pushing him through the door of the bar.

Jungkook looked back at you and gave you a small nod—as though encouraging you to stay with your friends instead of going after him to check up on him. You nodded back, thus allowing him to walk outside after Sid.

Jungkook was fuming.

Things had been going well tonight; he’d actually had a nice night with his friends and even forgot that these were the same people who pushed him into this bet.

But then he was forced to watch—in horror—as Sid approached you back at the bar, and he remembered everything.

So, while Sid pushed Minjun off of himself, Jungkook snarled, “I thought it was clear that you can’t fucking talk to her.”

Sid only shrugged and pulled out a cigarette from a pack inside his jacket pocket. “I just went over to say hi.”

“Don’t.”

Sid rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t going to mention the bet,” he spoke and offered cigarettes to Jude and Minjun first, then to Jungkook. All three of them took one each. Sid lit his up and continued, “you can’t forbid me from talking to her altogether.”

“Actually, I can,” Jungkook replied, still irritated that he hadn’t been there—once again—to stop Sid from approaching you. “And that’s exactly what I’m doing now.”

Despite the argument, Jungkook took Sid’s lighter when he offered it to him. In doing so, he realised that the paradox of this situation summarised their friendship fairly well. It had always been like this between him and Sid: constantly bantering and arguing, but staying friends, nevertheless.

“Why?” Sid asked with a grin, perpetually amused by Jungkook’s protectiveness. He blew smoke out and asked, “scared I’ll steal her from you?”

Jude and Minjun snorted in unison. The mocking sound took Sid’s attention off Jungkook as he glowered at them.

“You’re drunker than I thought,” Minjun commented, bolder than Jude was under Sid’s glare.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Sid challenged. “You all know I’m one of a fucking kind.”

Now Jude and Minjun were nearly howling with laughter, and even Jungkook couldn’t resist smirking. Meanwhile, Sid’s frown deepened. He liked to tease others; he didn’t like to be teased—never mind that he was setting himself up for mockery.

“You’re not shit,” Jude retorted, too drunk to come up with a wittier comeback. “She would never go for you.”

“No, he had a point,” Jungkook said. “She’s never hated anyone for as long as I’ve known her. Except for him.” He turned to Sid with a derisive grin. “So, you really are one of a kind.”

“Oh, I see,” Sid laughed humourlessly. He took another drag and then said to Jungkook—not even blinking as he watched him, “tonight was fun. But it’s going to get even better once you lose the bet.”

Jungkook remained apathetic as he removed the cigarette from his lips. “I won’t.”

“You will,” Sid insisted. His intense staring was an intimidation tactic that Jungkook had already grown accustomed to. He did not twitch or back away when Sid leaned in closer. “And you know why? Because you’re in love with her.”

This time, he wasn’t going to argue otherwise. Sid had used this as a weapon, he meant to ridicule him with it. But Jungkook—in this tipsy and tired state—realised that his self-esteem didn’t depend on whether his friends thought he still loved you or not.

Before, he had been eager to show them that he didn’t care about you—he thought that was the only way he could prove that his friends weren’t significantly better than him just because they weren’t in love with anyone.

Now he was going to show them that he did care about you, and caring still didn’t make him inferior.

“This might be disappointing to you,” Jungkook retorted, “but I can be in love with her and still make you lose.”

“See,” Sid said, grinning because this confession was precisely what he was coaxing out of Jungkook. And it was precisely the reason why Sid thought Jungkook would never win against him—be it a bet, or just in life in general. “But I don’t think you can.”

“Sit back and watch me, then,” Jungkook replied, blowing smoke out in Sid’s face. He pulled back immediately and the dissatisfied frown on his face was, simply put, beautiful.

Back inside, the girls chose to avoid discussing what had just happened with you. They had their reasons for changing the topic, too: Maggie had a policy against all boys who dared to interrupt your girls’ night, and Luna simply knew that if you continued to talk about this, you’d be more tempted to go out and check if Jungkook wasn’t getting into trouble.

But not even ten minutes later—just when you’d finished your second glass—Jungkook himself unexpectedly returned to the bar. You’d noticed him from across the room, and the second your eyes met, he made a beeline for you.

“Sorry about that before,” he said to everyone at your table, nodding apologetically at Luna and Maggie. “I, um, wanted to let you know that I’m going to be heading back. The bus is about to leave, right?”

Still surprised by his sudden reappearance, you were slow to pick your phone up. The battery had finally given in; you couldn’t tell what time it was. Both girls noticed this and were about to pull their own electronics out, but Jungkook reacted first.

“It’s four-thirty,” he said helpfully. “The bar is closing soon.”

“Oh.” You nodded. “Yeah. The bus is leaving in an hour, probably. Where’s the rest of your posse?”

“They already left,” he said without a further comment. Instead, he asked, “actually, can I talk to you for a second before I go?”

You looked back at your friends—both of them gave you permissive nods with grins that might’ve made the Cheshire Cat run away in shame.

“Sure,” you told Jungkook and turned your head away from your friends as if you could pretend you hadn’t seen their teasing smiles—that only made them giggle more.

The two of you walked towards the nearly empty bar—reasonable people were asleep this early in the morning—which wasn’t very far from your booth, but you figured the music played loud enough to drown your conversation out.

“So, um,” Jungkook began slowly—awkwardly—as he leaned his elbow against the bar top. “How are you feeling after the trip and… everything?”

There was something endearing about the uncertainty with which he’d asked you this. Pursing your lips lightly to hide your smile, you said, “it should be me asking you that.”

“It’s not. I’m the one asking,” he said so matter-of-factly that your smile only widened. He added, “I’m fine anyway.”

“I’m okay, too,” you said. “Tired to the point of taking a nap right on this bar, but other than that, I’m fine.”

He glanced at the bar after you’d mentioned it—as if assessing if it’d be a comfortable enough place to sleep on.

“Will you, um—will you be okay going back?” he asked then.

Your smile was plain and obvious now; hiding it required too much effort. Maybe the drinks Maggie got you were laced with something.

“It should be me asking you that, too,” you said.

“I’ll be perfect,” he replied, waving his hand around dismissively. “But I can, uh, stay back,” he looked at your friends over his shoulder—you noticed them both turn away, having been caught staring. “But I don’t want to interrupt.”

“Oh, yeah, no,” you agreed, your eyes still locked on the girls. “Maggie has a strict no-boys rule.”

You weren’t sure if she heard you or if her sudden snickering was unrelated to your comment.

“Oh?” this seemed to pique his interest. “Are you going to get in trouble now?”

“Probably,” you said casually enough. Trouble with Maggie usually meant more drinks, so you weren’t particularly worried. “She might already have a penalty for me.”

Despite you making it sound like this wasn’t the first time a boy interrupted your girls’ night to talk to you, Jungkook felt himself smile—he was the boy you’d broken Maggie’s rule for tonight.

“Because of me?” he still asked, a noticeable sense of entitlement behind his words.

“Don’t get excited.”

He snorted. “What’s the penalty? I’ll do it for you.”

“I’ll do it myself,” you said with a sigh as you extended your hands and laid your head on the bartop. “But some other night. I’m shutting down now.” You noticed the flash of concern in his eyes after you’d said that and added, “I’ll be fine. We’ll be heading back soon anyway. Get back to your friends.”

Your last sentence made him pause.

“That’s—” he stopped for another moment to mentally rewind through all the years that he’s known you. “That’s probably the first time you said that.”

You shrugged, having just enough energy to tease, “I trust Minjun.”

“Minju—but not me?” he questioned, offended.

“I’m working on it.”

“Well, how do I speed that up, then?”

“You can’t.”

He watched you for a minute, analysing your face for a possible option. He offered, “another trip to Paris?”

You knew he was joking, but you still grunted in refusal—that only made his teasing smirk widen.

“That’ll do the opposite,” you said. “I’m not going off-tour again. Look what happened tonight.”

You weren’t completely serious, but you couldn’t help but still feel uncomfortable that you had the leisure to travel Europe and drink with your friends, while the rest of the staff had to struggle with a stage set that was, apparently, falling apart.

Jungkook wasn’t sure if you genuinely blamed yourself or if this was just an illustrative exaggeration—your tired face was hard to read.

“Our trip to Paris is unrelated to what happened with the stage tonight,” he assured you in any case.

“Related or not,” you said and yawned mid-word, “now I can’t get proper sleep.”

His reaction was immediate—with one hand on your palm that you’d rested on the bar top, and another one on your waist, he encouraged, “come on, then. I’ll take you back to the bus. Let’s sleep.”

You were tempted—not just because his touch was warm and soft, but also because the thought of sleep seemed so satisfying right now that even the music in the bar faded into the background.

Still, you resisted, “the girls—”

“We’re fine!” Luna hollered; her glass raised. She was already tipsy and, obviously, had been waiting for an opening to give you permission to leave. “Maggie and I are going to stay back a while.”

You lifted your head to look at your friends again and caught them both smirking at you. They had seemingly overheard the entirety of your conversation, never mind the music.

“The bar closes in half an hour,” you reminded them with a frown. Jungkook’s hands were still on you—more supportive than before as soon as he felt the gentle sway of your tired body.

“We’ll find a way to keep ourselves busy until it’s time to leave,” Maggie added—which surprised you. Normally, it was the three of you against anyone who dared to interrupt your night. “You two can go ahead.”

You turned to Jungkook, who nodded at the door and seemed to make this decision for you. You really needed that today and you were quite unashamed about it; if anything, you appreciated everyone else deciding what you’d do for once.

You stood up properly and took a step away from him—he had to let go and did so reluctantly—to pick up your phone and your handbag from the booth. Your friends watched you, beaming, and you caught yourself before you began to smile, too.

Then, you allowed Jungkook to take you back to the bus.

It wasn’t a long walk, but you felt too drained to even take your shoes off when you got back. Plugging your phone in to charge, you laid down on your bunk, still in your clothes, and looked over at Jungkook.

Stubbornly, he refused to go to sleep until he was sure you were settled, so he was leaning against the partition wall between the opposite row of bunks.

“I’m still waiting until my phone will charge some,” you said, trying to make him reconsider. You paused to yawn again, then explained, “so I can check on the rest of our staff.”

“I’ll wait with you, then,” he said.

“No,” your firm voice got him to stop unexpectedly—he was already approaching you. “You hadn’t gotten any sleep, either. And you performed a whole gig tonight. Go to sleep.”

He resumed his journey and took a seat next to you on your bunk. “I’ll wait.”

You rolled over on your back to look at him. “You literally don’t have to do that.”

“And I’ll do it anyway.”

You exhaled, far too tired to argue about this. Your eyes could barely stay open enough to make sure he really was sitting on your bunk, and you hadn’t just dreamt him—the possibility wasn’t far-fetched, after all. It’s happened before.

“You shouldn’t,” you said softly, your eyes fluttering shut.

“I’m an adult, right? You said so,” he reminded you. You were worried that your words at the wedding would come back to bite you. “So, I can stay up waiting with you if I want.”

You sighed in response, your mind refusing to think of any more arguments or questions about why he found it necessary to bother waiting with you.

Satisfied, Jungkook scooted deeper into your bunk and crossed his legs, getting more comfortable.

He did as he’d promised—waited with you until your phone charged enough to make a phone call. Then he brought you water, because you called Seokjin and couldn’t say a word, your throat too dry to speak.

And then, half an hour later, when you were already asleep and he was sure you wouldn’t remember, he pulled your duvet over your body—so you wouldn’t get cold—and pressed a soft, tentative kiss to your forehead—so he wouldn’t, either.

chapter title credits: palaye royale, “toxic in you”

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[ominousvibez]

random dp x dc writing

i suddenly had an idea for a new dp x dc crossover fic, here's a piece of it!

🦇

“So much for movie night.” Tucker complains.

Sam groans, stretching her legs as Danny gets up, and transforms. The rings come easily to him now, unlike they had just a little more than two years ago. Their ghost-hunting tech had merely been discarded to the side after their patrol before they settled for the movie night.

“You guys can stay here.” Danny says, pushing himself into the air. “I told Skulker and Technus to pass along the message to the other usuals, but maybe somebody else didn’t get the memo.” The Box Ghost surely hadn’t; but, then again, the Box Ghost doesn’t usually get any news from the Ghost Zone. Or maybe he does, and he doesn’t care. Either way, the cardboard-loving menace was stuck in thermosland right now, and Danny wasn’t going to let him out until after they found out if Amelia would survive INVASION OF THE KILLER TEACHERS III: SCHOOL’S OUT or if she would become another zombie student.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll make it quick.” Danny allows himself to turn invisible and intangible, and slingshots himself through the roof of Sam’s house and into the sky. The clouds that had been moving in during their patrol clouded Amity Park in a dreary autumn rain. Leaves that had begun to turn were blown off the trees by the wind, and a distant rumble of thunder echoes in the distance.

Once upon a time, the storm would’ve terrified Danny. It would bring too many bad memories, of electricity burning through his skin, killing him and bringing him to life at the same time. But now, as a flash of lightning hit the sky, he can’t deny the surge of energy and delight in his core.

Stupid electric core.

“Ah! Sir Phantom!”

It isn’t one of his usual rogues for once. Instead, it’s a familiar face, and an ally. He calms down a bit at the sight of Lady Dorothea. He’s still a little annoyed that his movie night is being interrupted, but at least it’s by another friend.

Plus, he’s sure Lady Dorothea, who’s working hard at modernizing her kingdom, probably wouldn’t understand what a movie night was, anyway.

“Hey, Dorothea!” Danny drops his shoulders. He keeps himself intangible, feeling the rain fall through him. Lady Dorothea is intangible as well. “Is everything okay? Does your brother need to get his ass kicked into next week again?”

“No, not quite.” Lady Dorothea sighs. “I do need your assistance, but it is not for kicking any asses this time. Something… else has happened.”

“Something else?”

Lady Dorothea nods. “Yes. A few cycles ago, a newly-formed ghost stumbled into the castle gardens. My head gardener, Montagu, had found him stumbling through the hedges, and our healers were able to stabilize him before he could have faded, but then…” She bites her thumbnail nervously. A roar of thunder echoes around them. “… Sir Phantom, I believe he may be a halfa.”

Danny blinks at her. “Sorry, what? Did you say there’s another halfa?”

“Yes, I did— Sir Phantom, as far as my kingdom has come with modernization, I do not believe we have the capabilities of assisting a halfa, let alone one so young. I, no, we need your help, as soon as you are able to.”

A new halfa. Danny’s brain feels like it’s melting and spinning at the same time. He’d never encountered this before. Was that what Danny had felt? The new Halfa, forming? Or, well, maybe transforming for the first time, or something. He felt like pop-rocks were bursting under his skin, and he could feel a few stray sparks shoot off from his hands.

A new halfa.

[dontlookatmytmntcollection]

First I Love You

Bayverse TMNT × Fem!Reader

This is self indulgent garbage I have made to keep myself distracted.

It varies from Drama to Fluff to Angst and Pre established relationship to a fucking year into being official to Y/N to she/her. No spicy tho. Good luck lol

-Raphael-

It wasn't panic.

It wasn't. He felt excitement. Raphael was bursting with energy. Stomach in knots, head pounding, chest pushing and pulling oxygen as if it was hard.

It wasn't panic. Leo concluded the huddle with a nod. "Let's do this!"

"Turtle power!" The group shouted. Turtle and human alike branched off in different directions.

Raph looked over at you.

"Raph, I-"

"C'mon people, let's go!" Vern called.

Raph didn't know what to do, heart racing and blood surging. Making him jittery. He half-heartly ran after his brothers.

He couldn't help but glance back.

You had taken a step back closer to Vern. You were watching them go, frightened. He understood.

He could die or get taken away- this might be the last he would ever see any of these people ever again. Last time he would ever see you.

"You don't have to do that." You had laughed, smiling as he lifted your couch.

"You're not gonna do it." He teased, watching your dog fetch it's toy happily.

"It's an upper east side candy shop." Raph explained one night. "I know you like sweets."

You gave him the biggest puppy eyes, smile ear-to-ear, holding the snacks to your chest. "You're my hero."

God, had he wanted to kiss you. He almost did one time. Almost spilled his guts when you blinked tiredly up at him. The scales of his arm were imprints along your face. Marks a movie lengths worth in the making. They wouldn't fade for several minutes. It was so cute.

Your hand grabbed his once. Tugging him to the edge of the water, in an effort to show him something. Probably. He couldn't remember. He hid his shyness under the banter. Soaking up the feeling of your hand in his.

Raph couldn't stop thinking about you, anymore. He knew you felt something too. He was more than happy about that.

But it wasn't meant to be. He knew better.

"We can't do this." Raph had whispered two days ago. Pulling his hand away from your fingers. Pulling away from what had almost been a kiss. "It's wrong."

Something numb fell over your expression. Blocking him out. It broke his heart as you pulled your lips tight. Looking down and nodding. "Okay."

Raph had faced impossible odds before. But this was bigger. Scarier. He knew there was a chance he could never make it. A good one if this plan doesn't go well.

No.

He needed to do this.

His feet started to do their own thing.

"Raph?" Donnie called. Confused.

You turned back around, suddenly swallowed up in Raphael's shadow. "Raph, w-"

"I love you."

Her eyes widened, staring up at Raph.

"I'm fucking crazy about you." He whispered, terrified. "I fell in love with you, and I'm sorry I-"

"Raph-"

"You're the best thing to ever happen to me, and I've been wishing I could be the guy you deserve, but I'm not, so...so I just want you to know -"

"I-I love you too." She whispered, rushing forward.

Raph blinked. Relief overwhelming him before he could register what had been said.

"I love you so fucking much." His best friends small hands were quickly on his cheeks; the sensation like lightning on his scales.

It...probably wasn't the best kiss, in hindsight. He had done nothing but stare wide-eyed in disbelief as it happened, was happening, and happened.

She pulled back, her hands petting his face. His hands holding her head too. Her eye contact made his limbs go numb when she whispered, "Just come back to me, okay?"

Just come back to me.

"Uh...Okay."

She choked out a laugh, letting go of his face and pushing at his chest. "Now go get 'em tiger." It made Raph choke and smile back.

"Raph!" Leo shouted.

Ignoring Vern's expression of horror. Raph nodded to himself. "Okay." He said again. "Okay." He sprinted after his brothers on legs he couldn't feel, new energy driving him forward.

-Michelangelo-

You weren't naive.

You knew he wouldn't be accepted by most of your family. You knew that a few individuals might even be dangerous to Mikey and his family.

But the key word was most.

The newest generations, relatives your age, were much more accepting of many things. Within reason.

With your boyfriends...predicament- it took some extra effort on your part to set up a meeting of some kind. A meeting in which both parties had nowhere to go but through the uncomfortable interaction. With no room for reactive actions. No access to immediate exits, phones, or weapons-

Good thing you were dating an actual angle.

Mikey could work a room so easily, it overwhelmed you. He had your siblings charmed within seconds; cracking wise while the first gawking and terrified reactions were water off his shell.

Now, your boyfriends social circle was that much bigger.

One thing led to another. Weeks went by, then months. It's how you two ended up here. You on your siblings couch curled up with a book. Chaos all around you.

"Aaand...boo!" Mikey leapt out from behind the doorway.

"AHHahah!" One of your neices squeeled and ran away, hands covering her face.

"C'mere, you." Mikey growled, his smile just as wide as he dramatically stomped after the four kids, his hands perfect T-rex claws. His shadow easily swallowing them as they hurried away.

"Mikey, you can't eat them!" Your nephew wasn't older than five, but he chased after the giant turtle man as they rounded the couch you were sitting on.

Mikey tackled your nephew to the ground expertly, the boy roaring in delight; getting tickled ferociously.

"Ahhh! Stopp!!" The boy was desperately trying to worm away from your boyfriend. "That hurts!"

Mikey let go, and the boy continued to giggle as he caught his breath, struggling to get up.

"Ya a'right?" Mikey smiled.

"AHHH!" One neice came out of nowhere, pouncing on Mikey's arm.

"Oh NOO!" Mikey cried as he fell expertly over, making the little girl laugh. Your nephew screamed in triumph, jumping on his shoulders.

The other two saw the action, and pounced.

"We gotchu!!"

"Oh no, oh no!!" Mikey whined, struggling carefully for their entertainment as the kids climbed on top of him. He went limp, a gross sound in his thoat.

The kids squeeled, tiny hands slapping him playfully. "We know you're not dead, Mikey!"

He didn't reply.

Your neice shook his shoulder. "My-ee?"

"RAH!" Mikey jolted awake, and they all screamed and scrambled away.

"Get back here!" He called.

The kids scrambled to another room, leaving you and your boyfriend facing each other where he was kneeling on the carpet.

"How are you doing?" Mikey asked, still smiling. He had glitter stickers all over him. And marker ink was all over his shoulder.

Your heart had swelled, closing your throat and misting your eyes. He looked good like this. Happy.

"I love you." You muttered.

Mikey jolted, his eyes blowing wide. "...W-what?"

"I love you." You repeated with a smile, voice breaking.

Mikey's jaw dropped, his hands lifting a little from his knees. "We're- I-I-I love you-"

"UNGUARDD!"

A pool noodle slapped Mikey's head from behind.

You laughed.

-Donatello-

"All done." You whispered.

"Thank you."

You didn't look at him, setting down the needle and blood-soaked fabric.

You and Donnie were sheltered in the lab. Curtain drawn. He sat maskless and blind in his chair. Hands clasped between his spread knees.

He'd been quiet. Avoiding your gaze.

You stared at what would be a new scar on his face. Down his cheek and neck. You mourned the marring of some turtle stripes under his jaw.

Blood was crusted between scales around your messy stitches; and you slowly got to work of gently dabbing it away. One hand on his other cheek to keep him still.

You couldn't handle it alone anymore. Hurt that had weld up in your chest suddenly surged. Your voice began working again.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You whispered.

He didn't answer. But you felt a muscle clench under your fingers.

You bit your lip. Tears welling up at last.

Your proposal that fateful night hadn't been unique. At all. But the offer of another date night was ignored by him completely.

Ghosted. You had gone to April. Worried that something might have happened.

April's number apparently didn't exist anymore. Her face gone from her regular network. Nothing was said about it. As if you had made everything up.

You didn't have any other numbers. You didn't know where to find anyone. You'd begun to accept he had let you go. All of them. Suddenly. But they were gone, none the less.

You were not needed; and Donatello hadn't wanted you.

Then tonight, two hours ago; you'd received a mystery caller. Three times. Leo. Imploring. Needing more hands, because Donnie was down and out for the count. You had never heard the leaders voice like this.

Karai was now dead.

Everyone is home safe.

You felt tears finally spill down your cheeks. You pulled away, sniffing as you scrubbed harshly at your cheeks.

Donnie reacted to the sound as if shot.

"Y/N it wasn't -"

"You didn't tell me." You hissed. "That's all I need to know."

"It's not like that!" Donnie said urgently. "I couldn't -"

"I needed one text. N-not even that, just... something. Anything." You hissed. "I don't even ask for an explanation! Just saying it's unsafe to talk would have been more than enough. Y-you and I even have a safeword-!"

"I couldn't do that!" Donnie said. "They had tracked Splinter and April through our communications. My firewalls should have prevented the Foot from - I didn't - I didn't know, and I couldn't endanger another person I love the same way."

A person I love.

You gasped, chest heaving with built-up sobs. Physical pain struck you at his words. Shock. Denial. Two weeks. Nothing -

"You don't love me!" You choked. Insistant.

Donnie blinked, mouth dropping slightly open as he stared at you wide-eyed.

He took in a shaky breath. "Yes, I do."

You sobbed, squeezing your eyes shut as you scrubbed some tears away. "No, you don't, c'mon." It was the weakest you've ever sounded.

Donnie's hands snagged your elbows. Pulling you to face him so his hands could rest on either side of your head.

"You were in danger." His voice shook. "You were in so much danger - and I'd rather you think I left or was gone than ever - ever, see you hurt. Especially because I was too fucking s-stupid to protect you or my family."

You were silent. Staring at him like he was the last thing left alive.

He bit his lip, wet eyes sparkling with the most conviction you'd ever seen. "I love you so much. You're the best thing to ever happen to me, and I promised myself I would keep you safe, no matter what. If...If I could redo all of this, I wouldn't change anything." His voice broke. "It'll be different from now on, but...the thought of you somewhere out there hating me is better than the thought of you...not being here at all."

You hiccuped, face wet with renewed tears as you pushed forward. Kissing him.

-Leonardo-

Leo hadn't liked you at first. At all, really. Comes with the territory, you thought. You didn't blame him.

The trust built slowly every month. Half a year went by before you could easily call him your friend, and you were good friends.

The problem was that you had started crushing on him. Hard.

One night, Leo had stopped you; rain pouring down as he - very awkwardly...asking you out.

You could tell that he had been terrified. It made your smile that much wider. Because you were terrified too. Over the moon. Finally.

You later found out the guy had actually the corniest, cutest list of dates he had been hoping to take you on. All written in a neat, dorky list in one of his notebooks. When you confronted him - he couldn't meet your eyes he had been so embarrassed.

Leo had been the one to ask if he could kiss you.

You had fallen in love. Not quickly. But you had admitted to yourself - looking up into those pretty blue eyes - that you were crazy in love.

And yet...

Leo still hadn't taken off his mask.

You asked once. "Am I ever going to see you without it?"

"Hell no." He huffed at you while he set your house plant back down.

"Scared I might find out you're a turtle?" You scoffed. "I have some crazy news."

"Nice try, but that kind of show-" Leo reached above you to grab a cup, then pointed it at your smug grin. "Isn't for free. VIP only."

"I'm not a VIP girlfriend?" You were outraged.

The curiosity was always there. But you didn't push. You knew it would happen eventually.

That moment came a week later. When you ran your nails across his scalp.

You quickly did it a second time after his tiny noise of happy surprise. A gentle scratch. Only slight pressure to the green skin.

"What're you doing back there?" Leo twisted, peering up at you from where he sat on the floor infront of you.

You kept at it. Smiling as you switched between scratching and petting his scalp, adding a second hand. "Just touching you. That okay?"

Leo's eyes fluttered before he turned back to the TV. His shell between your knees.

As time passed, Leo's head lowered. His neck weakening. He obviously wasn't watching anymore.

"You okay?" You giggled quietly.

"Mm."

"C'mere." You pat your lap. "Turn around."

Leo did. He paused, facing you. You stared back, smiling before pressing a hard loud kiss to the side of his snout. Pushing his head slightly with its force, making him smile and laugh.

God, you loved that laugh.

Your hands opened and closed dramatically over his form as he slumped his head into your lap, curling up close. You nearly giggled at how large his head was as he rested his cheek on a thigh.

There was one problem....

"Hey," you whispered. "May I move the mask?"

Leo froze.

"I can work with it." You quickly said, cringing. "You're okay."

"No," Leo said. "No, it's okay. Hang on."

Your heart leapt into your throat in surprise. But you bit your lip. You didn't want to scare him as he sat up and used one hand to loosen the knot.

Leo pulled it off swiftly. Never looking at you.

You stared.

You had convinced yourself it wouldn't be a huge deal seeing his face. It was a small mask. How much could it really hide?

Apparently, a lot. You felt your brain adjust to the ridiculous fact that it had been unprepared to have so much green to look at.

Leo moved to lean back down. You stopped him. That's when he looked at you.

Leo's eyes hadn't changed a bit. You realized that they looked even more gorgeous like this.

You're heart squeezed.

You'd been dying to tell him. Now more than ever.

"Hi." You whispered, smiling and petting his cheeks.

"C'mon," Leo winced. "It's not..."

"Tell me it at least feels better off..." the backs of your fingers pet down his cheeks before you pushed your nails along each side of his head. Across his temples and then along his scalp again. "It sure looks better off."

His eyes rolled closed. He pushed further into the contact, a pretty groan slipping out.

He stayed there. Leaned a little bit forward as he sat on the floor. His head being pet and scratched from where you sat in front of him on the couch. You pressed a few kisses across brow and nose when you felt his weight going lax once more.

Then holding his jaw, you pressed your lips firmly against his forehead.

Leo signed.

This was it. Time to tell him. You took a deep breath.

"I love you." Leo whispered.

[boliv-jenta]

Marcus Pike x perimenopausal wife reader.

Warnings: talk of periods and perimenopause.

Summary: Reader is having a bad time, her husband Marcus is an angel.

1.4k

Your Biggest Fan

The weather had been odd for this time of year. To have rainy days mixed with bright, summer-like days wasn't unusual but this year the rainy, dull days were in the majority. 

What was unusual was that the weather had only just started to warm up. Marcus found himself still clinging to his winter wardrobe far longer. He noticed your winter wardrobe was packed away faster than his. He had to admit he was sad to see the cosy knit sweaters that looked adorable on you go. The bright side was they were replaced with blouses that gave him a glimpse of your cleavage and strappy vests that he loved to peel down your shoulders, following them with a trail of kisses at the end of a hard day. 

Today is one of the summer-like days. Which is fortunate as Marcus's new boss has insisted everyone attend a barbecue at her place. He was just starting to run out of small talk with the new hires when he saw you crossing the rather large and pristine yard. His relief wavered when he saw the look on your face. The small smile you gave him was strained. There was obviously something bothering you as you weaved your way towards him. Even at a distance he could see the sadness in your eyes. After giving the colleague who was rambling on at him a few more moments of polite attention Marcus excused himself to make his way to you, only for you to be intercepted by one of your colleagues. They grabbed your attention so suddenly that Marcus has a second to enjoy the flash of thigh he got as your summer dress lifted with the force of you spinning to the source. With your back to him Marcus could spot the possible source of your low mood. It just hoped no one else could. Without breaking his stride, he slipped off his suit jacket and drapped it over his arm. The same arm came around your waist and he made polite excuses to your colleague to drag you away. Once the two of you were out of earshot Marcus began to wrap his jacket around your waist.

“Marcus?” You were slightly bemused by his actions. Funnily, your trust in him is so complete that you make no attempt to stop him.

“You got your period, Honey. I'll make some excuses, you go get in your car.” With a quick caress of your cheek, he's gone.

With what feels like your last bit of energy, you manage to make it all the way to your car without bursting into tears. Once you are safely behind the wheel the dam breaks. Tears flow over your heated cheeks. The cold feeling of your panties sticking to you becomes more apparent. A knock on the window brings you back from your misery.

“Are you okay to drive? I can leave my car here and drive if you want?” Marcus, your rock, knows you hate to be without your car. 

All you can do is nod pathetically as you climb in the passenger seat. Marcus lets you be silent all the way home. He knows there's nothing he can say right now to help. It's only when he comes around to open your door and you apologise for getting his jacket dirty that he breaks his silence. “Baby, it'll wash. Come on, let's get you comfortable.” 

A shower and a change of clothes later, Marcus welcomes you to the living room with open arms. “Hey, you. Better?”

“Much.” Most of the tension leaves you as you sink into the comfort of him. 

“Are you okay? I mean your periods are like clockwork and you haven't been sleeping well.” He holds you tighter as he speaks as if he can protect you from whatever is wrong.

Marcus knows that your periods had settled in your thirties, due to your previous attempts at getting pregnant. Attentive as always, he still keeps track even after you decided to stop trying. 

There they are, the tears again. “I think I might be perimenopausal.”

You knew as you approached forty this could happen but after the whole fertility thing and a couple of other health issues it felt like your body was constantly changing and out of your control. These new symptoms were just another thing you would have to deal with.

“Ssshh. It's alright. This is just another thing we will face together.” Marcus said with complete conviction in his voice. 

Day two of your period hit worse. While Marcus was out for a couple of hours, you made a nest on the sofa. Pillows and blankets comforted and supported each part of your now aching body. An assortment of snacks and drinks littered the coffee table. Even the sound of Marcus opening the door wasn't enough to rouse you. The sound of him giving instructions was. Burrowing out of your nest you make it to the hallway just in time to see a man and a woman carrying large boxes upstairs. You stand just out of sight as Marcus signs their clipboard and thanks them before having over a few notes as a tip. When the front door closes behind them, Marcus turns to look for you. He doesn't have to go far.

“Sorry, I guess I disturbed you. You go settle back down and watch a movie. I'll be done by the time it finishes.”

“Done with what?” Marcus kisses your wrinkled brow in answer before giving you a wink and heading upstairs.

By now, you know that if Marcus wants to surprise you, it's best to let him. 

True to his word, Marcus came to get you before the credits rolled. 

“Come on. I'm all done.” His two large hands wrap around yours to pull you up. Marcus bounds ahead of you like an excited puppy. As soon as you are safely upstairs, outside of your shared bedroom the same large hands cover your eyes. 

“No peeking!” He adds as you giggle. 

“Marcus! What is going on?” The stern tone is undercut by the persisting giggles.

Marcus skillfully steers you into position, keeping your eyes covered the entire time. “Okay. Now, open your eyes.”

When Marcus removes his hands you blink a few times to readjust before taking the sight in before you.

“What's all this?!” You try to take it all in. The huge new bed, the new bedding stacked on it, the fan set up on your side of the bed, the gift bags.

Marcus's excited face flashes with uncertainty for just a moment before he explains.

“You know I run hot so I bought a bigger bed so you can have some space from me. I bought us new bedding so we can each have our own comforter to keep us both at the temperature we want to be at. The fan is bladeless and supposed to be the quietest one on the market. That is a cooling pad, for underneath you. That bag is…” that's as far as Marcus gets before you can't take it anymore. His lips are stopped mid sentence by yours. 

“I love you.” Is all you can think to say after you kiss him. Somehow those words never feel enough for Marcus. 

“I love you, too.” Your precious husband tells you while cupping your face and pressing the tiniest kiss to the tip of your nose. “I can't imagine how rough it will be for you, going through another life change right now. I'm so sorry, but I'm here with you through all of it.”

Tears well in your eyes again. Even you don't know if they're of sadness or of joy. 

“Here.” Marcus picks up a gift bag. “I got you some portable fans for the office. There are so many cool ones. No pun intended. This one you can wear on your neck, this one you clip on your waist and it blows up under your shirt…” Marcus's excited fanboying over, well, fans faded out as your thoughts turned to how lucky you were. Yes, this whole thing sucks but it could be worse. You could be facing it all without the sweetest man in the world.

[seeingivy]

the time of your life

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic, masterlist here

content: character death (LOL), very immature fifteen year old humor (that was cross confirmed with real fifteen year olds), idk reader and eren being mad corny

an: tried my best to make this chapter fun but I will just POST WHAT I HAVE BUT THE NEXT ONE IS ONE OF MY FAVS IM SO EXCITED

previous part linked here

--

Things settle down after the panel, and Eren convinces you to put all your energy into finishing the season. Because you’re going to prove them wrong and now you just have to do it. And as much effort as you put in, the rest of them all make it fun too. 

And Eren’s right. 

They really are great - funny, charismatic, and idiotic in their own ways. 

The inside jokes start one week after filming when you’ve finally learned everyone’s names. And, of course, it starts with Reiner. You and Historia are so tired after filming that you quickly run back to the townhouse just to get snacks from the main kitchen. With the mention of food, Sasha’s following, and then Connie, suddenly, everyone’s marching back together. 

Except when you get there, Reiner is in the kitchen. Not only is he shirtless, but he’s also doing some next-level opera singing. For some reason, he’s trying to sing both parts of the Phantom of the Opera and… actually succeeding?

Connie leans over, whispering. 

“Look at those mommy milkers.” 

You all burst out laughing, which stops Reiner in his tracks. And he momentarily stops and scratches his head before he keeps singing, this time serenading all of you. He’s taking Ymir by the hand and swinging her around and holding hands with Jean as they rock back and forth that even Mikasa’s snorting at the sight of him. You're all sold after that. 

Speaking of Mikasa, as solemn and quiet as she can be, she’s gotten you into quite a bit of trouble. Trouble meaning severe back pain. When she first moved into your room, she mentioned that she was a bit of an early riser. She likes to work out to get her blood moving before shooting, claiming that “it gets her in the zone.” 

Somehow, she convinces you and Sasha to join her one morning, and by the end of it, Jean and Marco are dragging you both back to the house by your legs, having to shove the two of you in an ice bath. 

You just didn’t realize that an early riser meant four in the morning, and working out means an all-intensive full-body press. Levi’s pissed at you and Sasha for being stupid enough to think you could keep up and you’re both mad at Levi for having such little faith in you. 

In true dad fashion, Levi’s always lecturing you guys. More like pretending to be mad, berating you around the set. But you know that he cares because the second that you guys ask him for something, no matter how stupid it is, he’ll be the first to give in. 

Exhibit A? Marco and Jean recently find out that Levi became a triple threat from doing his own stunts on Bond - including a quadruple flip. They’re both so intrigued by it that every time they see Levi, they force him to do it. 

“Levi.” 

“No, Marco. I’m not going to do a flip.” 

“Do a flip! Levi, please please please please please do a flip. It’s just so fucking cool.” 

“Watch your language, Jean. You need to wash your mouth out with soap.” 

“I won’t say fuck for a week if you flip, Levi. Please!” Jean says, shaking Levi’s hands as he talks. 

Levi begrudgingly rolls his eyes and then backflips in the living room, earning half hearted cheers. It was cool the first eleven times, but Jean literally asks him to do it daily. It gets old fast. 

“That was so fucking cool, Levi! Thanks.” Jean says, running off. He bumps into Sasha, who's clearly going to throw up as she runs past. 

Levi’s sick and tired of Jean. And Hange too. And himself for thinking that filming with a bunch of teenagers was going to be a good idea. 

After finding out that Sasha will quite literally eat anything you put in front of her, Hange’s started a dangerously horrible game of seeing what Sasha will eat without paying attention to it.

Ketchup on watermelon, ice cream with salt in it, cake with mayo. It’s become so disgusting that you can’t tell who people are more grossed out with - Hange for making the concoction or Sasha for eating it. (It’s Sasha) 

Armin’s taken maybe twenty before and after pictures of Sasha during these “experiments” that Hange runs and then sticks them onto the kitchen wall - perfectly labeled with the food Sasha ate underneath them. 

And he loves taking pictures so much that there’s now a big wall at the front of the set of just individual and group pictures, Armin’s little pictures and commentary tacked to the wall. 

One of Jean and Sasha playing video games, labeled “the great war” 

Another one of Ymir and Bertholdt tackling each other, labeled “ice cream gate” 

And one of Eren pinching your cheek, labeled “the l/n-jaegers” 

Right. In another life, you’re all convinced that Connie was destined to work for the paparazzi. Because every time you and Eren are together, he somehow manages to capture a picture at the worst time - making something innocent look like totally not.

Like when you and Eren share a blanket on set because there’s only one left. Or when he helps you put the harnesses on and his hands are around your waist for two seconds . When you guys share the breakfast burritos on set because they’re too big to eat alone. With context, they’re not that bad. 

But Connie always catches it at the worst time and then posts it to his fucking TikTok account. His stupid series has garnered millions of views, and you’ve both tried to convince him to stop, to which he refuses

And when you tried to get Erwin involved, he only supported Connie more - stating it was good press for the show. He’s named the series “the l/n-jaegers” hence the label on the polaroid.  

There’s currently 32 different parts. 

But you know you can’t stop him even if you tried because Connie proves to be the most menacing idiot on set. Him and Annie have developed a horrible habit of pranking everyone on around - Levi, Hange, and Erwin specifically. It’s not that Annie loves pranks, she’s just the only one who can keep a straight face. 

“Hey Hange.” 

“What’s up, Annie?” 

“There’s this guy who works in hair and makeup. He has a few ideas for the Female Titan costume design. He wants to talk to you.” 

“Oh. What’s his name?” 

“Ben Dover.” responds Connie, the look on his and Annie’s faces blank. 

“Ben Dover?” Hange repeats the rest of you, trying you shoving your faces into the script to stop laughing as they respond. 

“Yeah. They said they’ve talked to Erwin before. He’s been working with Hugh Jass, on the makeup team.” says Annie. 

Erwin walks over, the look on his face confused. And it just gets worse. 

“Who is Hugh Jass? I’ve never seen him before.” 

“Oh, he’s hard to miss. Really big guy,” responds Connie, his face breaking a little. 

Levi walks over, and when Annie talks again, it’s the final nail in the coffin. You and Eren are literally smacking your hands over each other's mouths, the tears spilling out of your eyes to not give them away. 

“Okay, we’ll go over there now. Thanks for telling us Annie, Connie.” 

“Cool! They’re waiting with Ben Overbich.” 

“What?” 

“Ben Overbich. It’s Swedish, sir.” Annie responds. 

Levi shrugs as he, Hange, and Erwin walk off to go to talk to the costume designers. And when they all walk away, you’re all panting on the floor, gasping for breath. Connie keeps mimicking Erwin, saying Hugh Jass, and Berholdt keeps quoting it’s Swedish sir, which doesn’t make it any better. 

When they return, Levi and Erwin are all yanking you by the ears onto the set since the costume team told them what the jokes actually meant. And there’s something so presidential about Erwin naturally that when he starts lecturing you, it starts feeling like he’s giving a sermon. 

“You guys are premier faces in the industry. Imagine how people would feel if they found out you were making crude jokes like you were fifteen years old.” 

“Sir.” 

“Yes, Ymir.” 

“We are fifteen years old.” 

You’re all snickering as Erwin continues, Hange rolling their eyes as he goes on. 

“You should know better. Ben Dover is not a funny joke. Huge asses are nothing to laugh about. You should wish to have that type of issue.” 

Jean leans over, whispering in yours and Eren’s ear. 

“The divine truths of humanity.” 

You laugh and Erwin stares you down, Eren smacking you for laughing out loud. 

“Y/N. Up.” 

You groan as stand next to him, the lot of them laughing at you, as Erwin stares you down. 

“Erwin.” 

“Y/N. What did you learn in class yesterday?” 

“Uh. States and capitals?” 

“Perfect. Name them all.” 

You groan. Of course, you get stuck with Erwin and his weird punishments. He always quizzes you guys on random stuff from your classes when you take too long on set or are late to a table read. And you’re usually free from that, but Jean’s stupid comment got you. 

“Uh. Okay. California is Los Angeles.” 

“Wrong. It’s Sacramento.” 

“I’m Canadian, Erwin. This isn’t even fair.”  

He shakes his head dismissively as you keep going, literally getting every single one wrong. And when you reach the fifth incorrect state, Eren takes his stand, helping you with the rest of them. 

“Eren. No one asked you if you knew the states and capitals.” Erwin says, pinching both of your ears as they all laugh.

“Can’t leave my girl hanging here.” 

“Your girl?” repeats Connie and the rest of them widen their eyes, leaving you and Eren to be met with a bunch of “oohs” and “aahs”

Which only flusters Eren even more. And makes your cheeks burn.

“That’s-that’s not what I meant! It’s because we’re co-stars! Like the leads, that’s why she’s my girl! Not any weird reason.” Eren stammers, the tips of his ears pink and his eyes not meeting yours. 

No one believes him. 

-

“Eren.” 

“Hm.” 

“Hot sauce.” 

He leans over in the chair, opening the packet of hot sauce and handing it to you. The crew got breakfast burritos again , meaning you and Eren were slouched up in your chairs eating. The scene that was being filmed was primarily a scene for Jean and Marco, but you and Eren always love to watch everyone else act. 

There’s something about the energy on set - Levi directing everyone around, everyone getting in the zone that gets you excited. All jittery and nervous and thrilled that people are going to see this amazing thing that is airing in a few weeks. 

You hand Eren the burrito and he instinctively reaches forward, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip. His green eyes focused on your lips and you can feel your heart rising into your throat. 

“Eren.” 

He looks up, right into your eyes. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Oh, my bad. You had some sauce on your lip.” 

And then he takes the excess sauce and licks it off his finger. 

“Did you just-” 

“Y/N, be quiet. They’re starting.” 

You try your best to focus on the scene but all you can think about is yours and Eren’s knees bumping against each other, your fingers brushing across as you share the food, and Eren licking the sauce off of his finger. You try to brush it off as you lean over and whisper into his space.

“What scene is this, Eren?” 

“Don’t remember. I was so busy trying to check my own lines I forgot to read ahead.” 

You nod as Eren scoots closer, the two of you leaning forward as you start paying attention to the scene. Jeans walks closer and that’s when you realize it - Marco leaning against the wall, all charred and slumped over. 

“Hey. Are you…. Marco?” Jean whispers, his voice shaking. 

Eren instinctively reaches for your hand, crushing it in his hold. You look over to find Sasha and Bertholdt giving you the same confused looks as you all keep watching, Jean acting on. It seems like no one read the scene before watching it. 

Jean’s a good actor. Such a good actor that you think he’s actually crying, that his voice is actually wavering. And that’s when you realize it. 

Marco just died. 

Your mind is running at a million miles per hour. Does that mean he’s leaving? He’s not going to be in the show anymore? You guys were all supposed to spend four or five years together filming together, but how is that fair if he’s already dead? That isn’t even an entire season-

Eren’s squeezing your hand into oblivion as the tears are falling out of his eyes, his face looking all types of broken as you glance over. 

“Member of the 104th Cadet Corps and Captain of Squad 19… Marco Bodt.”  

The director calls cut and the crew starts moving around, Jean helping Marco up from the ground as he brushes the tears out of his eyes. And when you catch sight of Erwin, you’re blazing fire angry. And it seems like you’re not the only one, because Ymir and Mikasa are following your suit. 

“Erwin. What the hell?” you say. 

Erwin and Levi look down at the three of you, confused. 

“You can’t just kill Marco! That’s not fair, the show hasn’t even started yet and you already killed him off.” Reiner says, crossing his arms. 

“Erwin. Cut it out of the show. You can’t do this.” Mikasa responds, glaring at him. 

Levi pinches the bridge of his nose as he bends down, Erwin joining him so you’re all level heights. For some reason, angry tears are building in your eyes and your chest is burning, because…you miss Marco. And he’s not even gone yet. And it’s not fair that he died so soon and his character is all but sweet, so why does he have to die and-

Levi places his hands on yours and Reiner’s shoulders as he talks, his voice soft. 

“Are you guys upset that he’s going to be leaving?” 

You all nod, the tears finally flowing out of your eyes and streaming down. You can see that Reiner’s crying too, Mikasa swallowing her own tears. 

“Yeah. Erwin, Levi he’s our friend. And I’ve never really had friends like this and I don’t want him to go away and-” you choke out, stammering on your words. 

Levi squeezes your shoulder as you hiccup and Erwin leans forward to press all three of you in a hug. Levi’s hands are in your hair, whispering something under his breath about how you’re all sweet kids. 

They both let you go and you look over to find Marco, still in his death makeup, hugging Eren, who has tears streaming down his eyes too. And when you walk over, Marco opens up his other arm, you and Eren and Jean and almost everyone crushing him into a hug, the discomfort sitting in your chest. 

As you all trail back to the townhouse after set, quiet for once, you’re all milling around the main room, aimlessly. You and Armin are playing a very underwhelming game of Uno, Reiner and Marco half-assedly playing Mario Kart, and Mikasa’s teaching Ymir how to braid her hair. 

Hange walks in and plops down between you and Armin, the polaroid camera in her hand. 

“Hey, you guys.” 

“Hi Hange.” you both mutter, flipping the cards down. 

“Got an idea. You know, this shows kind of… dramatic . A lot more of the characters are going to die, but it doesn’t have to be a sad thing.” 

“It is sad. That means Marco’s leaving and we won’t see him anymore.” you say, boring your eyes into Hange’s. 

They lean forward to pinch your cheek, softly laughing as they continue talking. 

“You’re so sweet. He’ll be back to film other scenes, yeah? And you’ll definitely see him again.” 

You both nod, agreeing with Hange. They hand the camera to Armin, whispering the plan in his ears and then duck out of the hallway. And when you and Armin have everything you need - the industrial box of Rocky Road ice cream and the camera - you head to the center of the room, Armin standing on the couch to get everyone’s attention. 

“When you fall off, I’m going to fucking laugh at you, Arlert.” says Ymir, looking up from braiding Sasha’s hair. 

“Shut up, Ymir. Listen, we should make a deal. Every time a character dies, we all eat ice cream. Play games, stay up late, and then at the end of the night we’ll add their picture to the wall. So we don’t forget them . Like, one last hurrah or whatever. ” Armin says. 

“You sound like Hange.” Annie mutters, flicking Reiner in the forehead. 

“It was their idea. But we should. If Marco’s leaving in a few days, I want to spend all the time I can with him, having fun and-” 

“Yeah. I want to.” says Marco, which has almost all of you agreeing.

You and Armin start by opening the tub of ice cream, all eleven of you refusing to get bowls and instead leaning over, bumping heads as you eat. 

“Eren. Move your big head.” 

“Shut the fuck up Connie. Your bald head is bigger than mine.” 

You all start snickering as the two of them argue, smacking each other and rolling off the couch. And when Marco suggests that you play truth or dare, you all start nervously giggling as you go around the circle, all jittery from the sugar in the ice cream.

Reiner asks Connie to share the last dream that he had, which he begrudgingly shares is that he kissed Ymir. Ymir is thoroughly disgusted. Historia gets dared to call Erwin dad by accident, which just leads to Erwin giving Historia a lecture about how he appreciates that she can see him as a father figure and that he is already very proud of all of the work Historia has put in. 

Bertholdt has to eat a spoonful of mayo, which he consequently throws up and Armin gets dared to steal something from the set. He takes Levi’s coffee cup and hides it in the storage room, which he is sure to get an earful for later. 

“Eren. Truth or Dare?” Connie asks. 

“Dare.” 

“Kiss your favorite person in the room on the cheek.” 

They all start giggling as they stare you down, your cheeks burning at the thought of Eren pressing his lips to yours. Connie and Bertholdt are making kissy faces at you, Ymir and Annie leaning over to pinch your cheeks. 

And you brace yourself, for when Eren’s going to press his lips into your skin. Except he doesn’t.  He leans over and kisses Armin on the cheek and you try your best to hide your…disappointment? Sadness? But that’s on you. 

Why would you assume you’re Eren’s favorite person on set? 

Everyone boos at Eren for picking a copout answer and you pretend not to be offended as you keep playing the game. And on hour two of playing, Levi comes and yells at you all to shut the fuck up and go to bed , which leads to Armin taking the picture of Marco - all cheesing and smiley and tacking it to the wall. Connie takes a sharpie and labels the wall “fly high angel” to mark the occasion. 

Except his dumbass writes angle instead of angel. 

You all shuffle back to your rooms, giggling and laughing, and you and Eren giving each other a smile as you switch into your respective rooms. 

- 

You hear a knock on your door and instantly jump up, ready to duck out of set to go get slushies with Eren. Except when you swing the door open, Jean’s standing at your store instead of Eren. 

“Oh. Hi Jean.” 

“Hi…is-” 

“She’s in the shower. You’re welcome to wait for her here if you’d like?” 

You swing the door open and he flops onto Mikasa’s bed, watching your fan spin around on the ceiling. 

You’re not sure what it is or why Jean and Mikasa are assuaged from the barrage of teasing and cooing that you and Eren get whenever you’re around each other, because you’re almost a thousand percent sure that the two of them are worse than you and Eren. 

Because they actually like each other. You’ve often come home from filming or playing games with Bertholdt and Historia to find the two of them sitting on the floor, holding hands while watching a movie. Or Jean giving Mikasa bracelets or telling her that he thinks she’s really pretty. 

Maybe they’re not paying attention and that the only person who knows is you. Or maybe it’s because they don’t turn red or deny their feelings, because they actually like each other. You and Eren aren’t like that, because in earnest, you two really are just friends. 

“You okay? Your room must be pretty empty.” 

Marco moved out earlier today. Not a single dry eye in the room. 

“Yeah, that’s kinda why I came. Sometimes it just feels kind of lonely, but I think Levi and Erwin might move someone in with me or put me with Connie or something.” 

“That’s nice. It’ll be fun to have a roommate.” 

He nods, cracking his fingers as the shower runs behind the two of you. 

“Hey Jean.” 

“Hm.” 

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” 

“Shoot.”

You sit up, hopping off your desk chair and onto the bed where Jean was sitting. He’s leaned back against Mikasa’s perfectly propped pillows, lazily swinging the charm of his necklace back and forth on the chain. 

“How do you know you like Mikasa?” 

He looks up from his chain, giving you an inquisitive look, before answering. 

“Dunno. I like being around her. Like, whenever I’m in a room, the person I want to be next to is her. Or the first person I tell good news to and I want her to know like…random things about me. My moms name, my first pet, how I hate my first grade teacher. I just like to share things with her. Like how it feels when I'm with her you know - like...like that's Mikasa. She's my girlfriend."  

“Oh. Okay, that makes sense.” 

He nods, plopping back down on her pillows and twisting the chain in his hands again. 

You halfheartedly nod as Mikasa rolls out of the bathroom, giving you two smiles as she takes the seat next to Jean. You give the two of them a smile as you pad out of the room and straight into Eren and Armin’s across. 

“Hi. Mind if I sit? Jean and Mika are-” 

“Sure.” Eren says, scooting over on his bed and patting on the sheets. 

“Where’s Min?” 

“Ah. With Erwin. I think he’s taking the Marco thing kind of hard.” 

You nod, shuffling on the bed as Eren shuts his laptop, leaning back onto the headboard. 

“Are you okay, Eren? With him being gone?” 

“Feels weird. It kind of just makes me nervous for who else will leave us, you know?” 

Us. 

“Yeah.” 

Eren tangles his hand with yours at your side, taking turns cracking each of the knuckles on your fingers. 

“Do you ever wonder why they tease us so much? For being friends?” 

He angles his head over, the wisps of his brown hair tickling on your forehead.

“Like. Mikasa and Jean really like each other. They’re always holding hands in my room and-”

“What? They like each other?” 

“I think so. I don’t know, they’ve never really hid it from me.” 

“Well, you’re sweet. You’d never make fun of them for that. I had no idea that they liked each other. They’re probably just not outward with it in front of everyone else.” 

“And we aren’t outward with anything. I don’t know, we just act normal and they’re always like saying this stuff about how you and I-” 

“Y/N.” 

You stop talking as he squeezes your hand three times, almost like a little knock signaling you to stop talking. 

“I think they just… don’t get us. You and I are special. I just feel like I’ve known you forever and that we really fit together and I think they can sense that or something. And they think it’s romantic even if it’s not, you know?” 

“Yeah.” 

He squeezes your hand three more times, the words knocking through your head. Special. Fit together. Not romantic. He leans over, green eyes staring into yours. 

“You and me. Always?” 

You nod, swallowing hard as you lean back. 

“Plus. They can’t kill us off. We’re the main characters.” 

- 

You shuffle in your seat as the director yells action, as you look down at Eren, tied up against the post in the middle of the set. You’re filming the scene where Levi is supposed to just kick Eren’s ass in the middle of the court, to prove to the other characters that they can control him and his titan powers. 

Except you’re on your fifth take of this scene, Eren getting increasingly frustrated because Levi’s been yelling at him all morning, claiming that he isn’t acting good enough for the scene. Levi’s a bit of a perfectionist, meaning he won’t let anyone leave until the scene is perfect the way he wants it. 

Eren especially. You could always tell that Levi was always more fond of Eren than everyone else, but you never thought that would mean Levi would be extra harsh on him. Which is clearly just pissing Eren off today. 

“Maybe we should dissect her just in case!”

“Wait. Maybe I am a monster, but she has nothing to do with that! Nothing at all!” Eren screams, his voice straining and his eyes pinching shut as he wrestles against the handcuffs. 

“As if we could believe you!” 

“It’s a fact!” 

“You’re defending her? She must be one of you!” 

“No!” 

Levi stomps into the middle of the set, leaning down and getting level with Eren. And then he starts yelling at him. 

“Eren. You can do so much better than that. You have to give it your all or this isn’t going to work.” 

“I am giving it my all. You’ve had me working for five hours now and I-”

“So? You have to get used to that type of time commitment if you want to be the best like you said you did and-” 

Eren and Levi keep going back and forth, Hange signaling at you from the back of the set as you both arise from your chairs, leaning down to meet them. 

“Levi. Go easy on him, we’ve been-” Hange starts, 

“No. He can do better than this and I know he can. He just doesn’t want to. If he would just put in a little effort, it would be better.” 

“Levi, maybe you’re being too harsh on him-” you start. 

Levi rolls his eyes as he stands up, calling for a break as you unhook Eren from the post. The second you unlock him, he storms off straight off of the set. 

“Hange.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can you take a longer break from us? I’ll talk to him.” 

“I’ll talk to Levi. He just…he knows Eren can be really good. That he has potential. He’s just trying to get him there faster because he wants Eren to do well.” 

“I know, Hange.” 

You shoot them a smile as you run into the storage closet, yanking out the tandem bike and heading to find Eren. 

- 

You kick the rocks in front of you as you hand Eren the slushie, anxiously looking over at him. He’s still radiating anger, from the way his shoulders are tense and how his knuckles are nearly white against the cup. The two of you biked in silence and even the cashier could tell Eren was having some type of fit today. 

“Eren.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

He sighs as he leans into your touch, resting his head against your shoulder. 

“I just-I’m trying really hard to get it. And Levi’s always just so hard on me, I can’t even tell if I’m doing a good job or if I can do this or-” 

You reach down, crushing his hand in your hold, as you respond. 

“Eren. You’re doing a really great job. Even Levi thinks that. He just… he knows you’re great and he’s trying to tap into that.” 

“I know, it just makes me wonder sometimes if I’m cut out for this. Or that Best Actor savant that I-” 

“Eren. You’re going to get it. I know that for a fact. It might not be this season or the next, but you will get it. You’re- you’re literally amazing, I just know you’ll be one of the best of our generation and-” 

“You’re just saying that because-” 

“I’m not! I really do think that, I- I’d even bet on it for you. You’re the best person for this role and you’re perfect for it and in general too and I just think you should be more confid-”

“Y/N, I-”

“Like really, I think you have the chops to be great. I can’t even believe I have to be your costar because I am infinitely mediocre next to you when you’re just so amazing and already have so many credits and-” 

You’re cut off by Eren’s lips on your cheek, pressing a soft kiss to your skin. You reach up to the skin as you look over at him, positively bug eyed. 

“You-why would y-” 

“The other day. You are my favorite person on set. I just didn’t want them to make fun of us for it.” 

“Oh. Right, I-” 

“Finish the slushie. We’ll go back after.” 

When you return, Eren finishes the scene in one take. And gets Levi’s golden stamp of approval. 

- 

When you and Eren film the last scene of the season, on your last day of shooting for a few months, you can’t help but feel a despair in your chest. Everyone else was already long gone, having given your wistful goodbyes and promises of keeping in touch until you come back to (hopefully) film the second season. 

Which leaves you, Eren, Erwin, Levi, Hange, and the crew to film the last scene. The backstory of how you and Eren came to be, where he wraps the scarf around your neck. 

While you love having everyone else around, it was nice to have a few days of just you and Eren, where you can soak in his company before you have to be apart for a few days. You make ramen together in the mornings, he teaches you how to play video games, and you talk about almost anything and everything in those three days.   

And when you go to film the scene, the despair of being apart from him…from your best friend really settles in. You’re sure it makes the scene all the more better. 

“It’s cold…. I don’t have anywhere to go home to.” you say. 

Eren walks over, his voice uncharacteristically soft, so gentle when he wraps the scarf around your neck that it makes your cheeks burn. 

“You can have this. It’s warm, right?” 

Grisha walks forward, placing a hand on Eren’s shoulder as he says his line. 

“Y/N. You should come live with us. You’ve been through plenty.” 

And when you look at Eren, you can feel your heart beating as he says the next lines. And for some reason, this version of Eren feels less like the character Eren and more like the real Eren. 

Your Eren. Tandem bikes, slushies, squeezing hands three times Eren. 

He reaches forward, squeezing your hand three times like he was reading your fucking mind, as he says the next line. While he acts dismissive, you can see the warmth in his eyes, and it feels like something else. Like he’s trying to hint something at you, tell you something you can’t exactly pick up on. 

“Come on. Let’s go back already. To our home.” 

And when you squeeze Eren’s hand three times back and trail off out of the shot of the camera, you both smile at each other, Eren turning to face you. 

“See you in a few months?” 

“Yeah.”

“Call me every day?” 

You roll your eyes as you reach over to flick his forehead, to which he pinches the sides of your waist. You squirm out of his hold, the feel of his fingers ticklish as you both laugh. 

“Yes, Eren. I’ll call you every day.” 

“Okay, good. Don’t forget me when you become famous overnight.” 

“You’re so full of shit, Eren. That’s not going to happen.” 

You’re totally wrong, for what it’s worth. The first episode of Attack on Titan airs on Friday. You and Eren start trending on Saturday.

--

next part linked here

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[eternalmarvel]

MK1 - BI HAN X READER ~ REUNION ~

an: ok hi guys lowkey i havent written fanfiction in years so this is my brief return. so feral for bi-han bro got me writing again

anyways please enjoy this story that i cooked up at work instead of doing what i get paid to do 🔥i got really sloppy at the end because this fic ended up being MUCHH longer than what i intended and i lowkey lose the plot bc it was supposed to be much more different

also if you guys have requests send them in i might do them i might not so dont expect too much

ps+ i'm not chinese so if i mischaracterized something pls let me know!! i'm the wrong type of asian to be writing this lmfao

--

you returned to the lin kuei outpost hoisted on the shoulders of the neighboring rocky mountains. it was a heavy winter yet, but a meager layer of snow had curtained everything all the same. your breath was heavy as you sighed and looked at the exterior of the stronghold, smoke spilling from your mouth. it had been years since you had been back here, practicing with the lin kuei as only a young woman. you were never an initiate, but your father was a powerful man who had been good friends with the former grandmaster of the lin kuei and wanted to assist them by having you help them out. after a couple of months of training and bonding with all the other lin kuei initiates (as well as the grandmaster's sons), you had left to pursue your responsibilities. you had been burdened with far too many tasks to just remain in one place -- it pained you but you knew you had to leave to do what was required of you. not one for goodbyes (and the fact that if you had to confront the brothers about your departure, you probably would've ended up staying...), you disappeared into the midst of the dark night.

after all with great power comes......

the gates to the stronghold opened and you entered inside. it was difficult being back. how would you approach the brothers? would they still be upset at you for leaving? surely not, considering they let you back in. but what if this is a trap, a ploy to set up a mediation to get you to explain where you were all these years? thousands of thoughts swirled inside your mind but it didn't matter now. you were inside the courtyard now, watching as initiates sparred and practiced with one another. you could begin to feel the influx of raw magical energy as you walked by, prompting you to take a deep breath in and walk with your head held higher. you opened the gates to the interior to see tomas and kuai liang speaking with some of the younger initiates. kuai had his hands crossed behind his back, his eyes stern as ever as he commanded some of the younger warriors to try out a new training exercise. tomas had a small smile on his face, his arms crossed in front of his chest. they didn't notice your arrival and so you quietly walked up to them, with hands behind your back and a shy smile across your face.

tomas was the first to notice you, and his face immediately burst into a smile. "(name)!" he yelled out, excited like a puppy being adopted by an owner for the first time ever. you were originally going to keep this visit somber, but you couldn't help to keep the smile off your face. suddenly a huge urge to hug him overcomes you, and you spread your arms around the nape of his neck, pulling him in. he pats your back, exclaiming:

"i didn't realize you were going to be here so soon!"

you pull away from him, giving him a big smile. "sorry it took me so long. had a lot of stuff to get to."  that smile on your face does not betray your intentions. it's the truth--you really did have a lot to get to. procrastinating and putting off the visit for as long as you did, however, was honestly not your intention.

you see kuai glance at you gently, a fond look washing over him as you peak from over tomas' shoulders.

"c'mon, i know you want in on this too," you say playfully as you beckon kuai over. he smiles kindly as he takes you into his arms.

"it's good to see you again, (name). seems that time's been treating you right," he says with his hands on his hips, admiring your character as he gazes at you from up to down. you can't help but blush, and wave away his comment.

"you guys have grown up a lot too! what have they been feeding you guys?!" you playfully ask. the two of them playfully chuckle, as tomas responds with,  "been drinking my 7 glasses of milk everyday!" you give him a confused look as kuai gives him a side-eye. "pretty sure it's meant to be water, tomas. but i'm glad you're so lactose-affluent," you say playfully with a grin.

kuai takes you softly by the arm and introduces you to the other members. "everyone, this is (name). she used to train with us and it's lucky for us she wasn't officially trained as an initiate or she'd be better than all of us." his compliments cause you to blush and roll your eyes, as you give a humble bow.

"where is bi-han?" you ask, reluctantly. kuai's gaze becomes sterner and yet more cautious.  "he's with some students right now. though i uhh....am not sure how receptive he will be to your....visit." you smile. "don't worry for me, kuai. i can handle the boy i used to beat in our spars." "except he's not a boy now. he's grandmaster of the lin kuei." your eyes fall to the ground. of course he was. their father died just a few years ago and now bi-han had inherited one of arcticka's greatest creations. you look back up and tomas and kuai solemnly.

"sorry i could not attend your father's funeral. i only heard about it just recently and even if i knew about it earlier, i didn't know how you guys would feel about me popping up at his service unannounced."

"you're family, (name). you were then, you still are now. nothing's changed but the time passing," he says tenderly as he rests his hand on your shoulder. you give him a smile in return and nod your head.

"thanks for the sentiment, kuai. but....let's see if your big bro shares the same sentiment."  kuai and tomas share an unsettling look as they take a deep breath in. "you're welcome to try and get through to him. don't blame me if he throws an ice pick at your head."

you roll your eyes playfully. "i'm sure i'll be fine, just tell me where he is."

tomas points to the other side of the stronghold, pointing to the large training room decorated with gold and red lanterns. come to think of it, most of the stronghold was painted with evidence of the Chinese New Year's festivities. you hadn't realized that the new year had encircled so quickly. as you made your way to bi-han, you felt your heart flutter. there was no telling how he would react. what if he actually DID throw an ice pick at your head? the nerves bubbled up in your gut as the cold air outside did nothing further to ease your unrest. as you walked to the large room where bi-han was at, your eyes briskly caught a glance at the remnants of more festivities at the stronghold. you smiled softly to yourself.

at least bi-han cared enough about his initiates to host what looked like some vendors/merchants and games at the stronghold for all of them. this gesture was sweet, almost like a father providing for the children he's adopted. just like his own father, though you didn't dare to say this out loud. this thought process however, had managed to calm you down until you got to the very wide doors to the training room. you took a deep breath in before you quietly opened the doors, peering in to a room with many masked initiates sitting on the floor inside gazing up at bi-han as he fervently explained something.

you moved to the back of the room, carefully moving past the other member to get a good look at bi-han, leaning your shoulder against the wall. a few minutes passed as he wrapped up his lesson, finally catching your eye. for a ninja he wasn't much aware of your presence. but he also hadn't felt your presence in years, and you were aware of that. when his eyes met yours, he didn't look surprised like a person gazing upon a long-dead wraith but rather he looked stunned as to how you even got here. there was anger hidden behind his eyes, but at the same time....

"(name)?" it had been years but you still felt the same way when he called out your name. his voice had gotten deeper and he had changed into a grown man. your eyes explored his stature -- he was taller, his muscles were defined, and a different aura now defined him. he was no longer the softer boy you knew him to be, now he was grandmaster of earth's last defence; of course he was going to be a changed man now.

you smiled cheekily, not knowing how to react. truthfully, you didn't know how you got this far.

"hi, bi-han. i hope i didn't distract you when you were busy teaching," you speak coyly, not wanting the other initiates to overhear your WHOLE conversation. he looks down at you, almost like he's debating what to say next. you take a deep gulp and you scrape away at the skin underneath your nails, causing them to bleed. after what seems like a milennia of consideration, he furrows his brows and briskly walks past you.

you nod your head with a soft smile. you understand why he feels this way but to be honest, you're not sure whether you would've preferred this treatment or having an ice pick gone straight to your dome. the other initiates look on carefully, trying not to invoke their grandmaster's anger. before they can do anything else, they follow their grandmaster out the room.

"don't take it to heart. if you were anyone else, he probably would've frozen you solid. i'm surprised he actually went the mature route."

you turn around to see whose voice those sentences belonged to. your eyes fell upon a man wearing a yellow uniform, similar to kuai's uniform but the colours inversed. his hair is tied up almost in a ponytail and restrained by a yellow bandana across his forehead. he's a good-looking man, but an unfamiliar face.

"i'm sorry, i don't recognize you," you say as you furrow your eyebrows piecing together who this man could be.

"cyrax. i haven't seen you before here either. though kuai said that there may be a guest visiting today." he gives you a small smile and stretches out his hand so you can shake it. you give him a warm yet stern handshake. you take his hand and give him a small shake.

"i was hoping for a warmer reception from him honestly. though it was my fault for thinking he might've reacted the same way i might've towards him."

"eh, he's been cranky for the last few days. still, that makes him not snapping on you all the more interesting. are you familiar to him? personally?"

"oh, ha, no," you wave him away embarrassingly, "i used to train here with the brothers. i'm acquainted with them pretty well. just haven't seen them in years, so...."

"ahh. well, good luck with trying to get sub-zero to warm up to you. you're attempting to do the impossible." he replies with a cheeky grin, before bowing to you and leaving the room. you take a deep breath in, unsure of how you were going to get the grandmaster to liven up a little and talk to you. as the day continued, you found yourself wandering the old halls of the stronghold you used to train in. it was night-time now, and you admired the dark glow on all the new year festival decorations. they shone bright as the gold off of them reflected the moon's light. a little upset at not being able to have the reunion you wanted, you walked out to the terrace surrounding the courtyard, looking down at the dimly lit enclosure. no one was out practicing right now, causing you tp scoff to yourself. when you practiced here you went well into the late night and yet none of these new initiates hold the same respect and regard for hardwork as you did. your mind flashes back to your sparring practices with bi-han. when you both were younger, he could hardly touch you you were so fast. your hits were hard and fast, mirroring bi-han's form but you were just that much quicker. he hated admitting it, but you were just a better fighter -- though your elemental magic couldn't hold a light to his cryomancy.

before your mind wandered off to the unknown, you heard footsteps behind you making their way down the corridor. you turned to see bi-han in a dark blue/black hanfu with a few books in his arms. your breath caught in your throat as you gazed upon him. if he saw you, he was doing a great job at pretending he never did. this didn't matter to you, as you quickly hid behind one of the pillars in the terrace. he had his head down, bad idea. as he came closer to you, you waited for the perfect moment to strike before finally revealing yourself. bi-han didn't react at all and if he did, it was out of pure annoyance.

"no. you're not leaving until we speak."

"are we finished?" he says stoically, before attempting to go around you. "that was enough of us speaking."

flabbergasted, you back up quickly and block his path again.

"bi-han." you say, defeated and exhausted. you didn't come all this way to get dejected and leave without getting proper closure. if you had to move on from him, you wanted to at least clear things up with him before getting on with your life.

"did you not leave the last time? i am simply doing to you what you have done to m-us." he replies matter-of-factly.

"i'm here now aren't i? c'mon now, i know you've been dying to talk to me. i wanted to talk to you all this time!" you say coyly, throwing a playful punch at his meaty arm.

he looks a little upset, or at least his eyes and frown betray him if he was going for a stoic look.

"why now? why after all these years. you might as well return to wherever you came from," he replies lowly and yet it shows that he's hurt. your heart warms a little at the fact that you could've had this much of an impact on him. you nod your head slowly and look into the enclosure beneath you.

"i'm sorry bi-han. you know i had to leave soon. it wasn't going to be forever, even if i wanted for it to be so. and i knew......" you look down, a long distance into the ground, "if i told any of you guys i was leaving i probably wouldn't have ended up leaving." the look on bi-han's face relaxes a bit, but you can still see him holding the stress on his face. there's not much more that you can say. he was right in being upset -- if anyone else abandoned you the way that you did to him or his brothers you'd be livid. the two of you spent months with one another and yet neither of you had confessed your feelings. the tension was palpable and everyone else noticed it too, it was just confusing as to why neither of you acted on your desires. for you, it was the fear of rejection. perhaps it was the same for him as well?

you lean on the terrace on your side, gazing at bi-han. just being near him after all these years was enough of a blessing but something in you wanted more, though you would never publicly admit to this. you stop yourself at first, but then reach for his arm, carefully, almost to not startle him like he's a wild animal at bay for now but at risk of leaving at the first sign of danger. he doesn't retreat, moving his gaze from your face to your arm. you gently get a hold of his forearm, grazing your thumbs against them. he's cold, but retracts the cold from his skin so that it's back to normal temperature. you hold your gaze at his arm, almost too shy to look at his face.

"i think you've missed me all this time."

bi-han scoffs. "not in the slightest."

"then why are you so close to me?"

it's like the act is intuition. he notices how close the two of you are now and apparently his closeness has gone unnoticed because only a mere half foot now separates the two of you. he lets out a small chuckle out of annoyance and shakes his head.

"you still remain as aggravating as ever."

you put your hand on your hip.

"i apologize for upsetting the mighty grandmaster of the lin kuei." you say, coming a little closer and almost closing the already-tiny gap between the two of you.

"that can be rectified." he says, almost flirtatiously. you're a bit taken aback by his frisky comment. you thought he might've actually been offended by your comment but it seems that his playful nature has become unfamiliar to you after all these years. you place your hand gently on his cheek, caressing his cheekbones and acne scars.

"i've missed you, you know," you finally express your true feelings.

bi-han's eyes soften a little.

"i should've been here-with you....i know that i didn't exactly give you much closure bu-," before you can continue on with your tedious apology he fills the space between the two of you and kisses you with a voracious hunger you've never seen before. his nose pushes against yours and you lean into the kiss, slightly moaning. he tries to slide his tongue against you and it's almost as though the two of you are young kids again, sparring. you defend your mouth, refusing to let his tongue inside but he grabs ahold of your other arm, surprising you. taking advantage of your shock, he slips his tongue inside triggering another gentle moan from you. the two of you wrestle with your tongues, exploring the smallest crevices of one another's mouths. years of tension and pressure are finally alleviated with this kiss. you lean in for more, like a child fiending for sugar, but he pulls away to gaze in your eyes.

you take a deep breath -- that workout took a lot of your wind away from you. however, your lips still draw near his, lowkey aching for more.

"i've wanted to do that for so long..." he says, pushing his forehead against yours. "are you planning on leaving again?"

you smile brightly. so the cold-hearted grandmaster did hold a soft spot for you.

"that depends. do you want me to stay?"

he removes his hands from your wrist and brings them up to your face, reciprocating your earlier caresses.

"as long as you don't leave again."

[kaciidubs]

Chan’s recent insta post is so boyfriend/husband coded I can’t :(

Imagine him taking you out for dinner and you take your child with you and chan holds the baby secure to his chest while admiring you with heart eyes… brb gonna cry please hand me some tissues cuz the thought of how gentle chan would be is making me melt like how carefully he would hold his baby and shush them every time his child’s shows the slightest bit of discomfort….

Oh god please, I just woke up to see those and now THIS?! Be still my beating heart 😩

"Chris, you don't have to hold her, you know - the high chair is fine."

"I know, I know, but I want to."

Looking up at him over the edge of the menu, you can't help the way your heart flutters when he bounces your daughter against his chest; his eyes soft and warm as they gaze at her soft features.

'The perfect mix of me and you' - he'd always say.

"I hope you keep that same energy when we get our food, I don't think she'll appreciate being passed off for some steak."

The teasing joke was met with a series of disgruntled coos from the baby in his arms; tiny hands doing a number on the drool stained collar of his jacket.

Chris bounced her lightly, lips pouted as he cooed back, "No, no, no, I would never do that! Daddy thinks you're worth more than all the steaks in the world!"

After putting in your orders, you found yourselves melting into conversation about anything and everything that came to mind, slowly forgetting about the world around you.

"You should've seen the look on Hannah's face when-" Snapping out of your heated retelling, you were suddenly highly aware of the way he was gazing at you; head slightly tilted, lips curved into a soft smile, and eyes filled with so much adoration you swore your heart skipped several beats. "Chris, baby."

He hummed, his position resolute even with a wiggly baby in his clutches - a bashful heat of embarrassment washed over you.

"You're staring at me!"

"I love you."

Those three words fell from his lips effortlessly, he was in awe with you, in love with you and the life you created - the life you're building with him. His little family doing something so simple as getting dinner suddenly turning into one of the many nights he would never forget.

Your lips curved into a smile, a soft chuckle bubbling up at his sentimentality, "I love you, too."

Your daughter made a babbling sound, wiggling around before unceremoniously opening her mouth and mushing her face against Chris' cheek; slathering the skin with copious amounts of baby spit.

The sound he made was a cross between a yelp and disgruntled laughter, "Okay! I love you, too, baby girl, thank you for the kisses." He tried to crane his face away as best he could, but she simply followed with high pitched squeals.

Doing your best to not burst into laughter, you took that as your sign to get her dinner from the diaper bag hanging on the back of your chair. "She's hungry, but if you wanna say those are kisses, be my guest."

"Ah, she definitely gets that from you." He grinned, managing to save himself from the face suckling long enough to take the bottle you held out.

Your eyes narrowed playfully, "Weren't you just saying how much you loved me and how you appreciated me being your wife and the mother of our daughter?"

"I mean- I didn't get to the second part yet!"

"Well you should."

Chuckling lightly, he made sure your daughter had a proper hold on her bottle before looking up at you with loving eyes, "I love you, not only for being my wife and the mother of our daughter, but for being you - for being all I could have dreamed for and so much more."

Your heart swelled, words befalling you as you watched him go back to watching his daughter with the same look he gave to you; infatuation, adoration, love.

Shaking your head softly, you watched the scene before you as the scent of your food drew near.

[Unedited]