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ventismacchiato · 3 months

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O8 stuck with you — im on top (of you) !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

The day you had been dreading was finally upon you.

“Stop looking so sad,” Yoimiya sighs as she looks over to where you were slumped on the floor of the recording studio you guys were in.

“My beautiful voice…mixed in with his,” you shuddered at the mere thought of his vocals sullying the album.

“Quit being so dramatic,” Lumine chastised, reaching over to get you off the floor.

You look over to where Scara was similarly slumped on the floor, staring into the wall as his group members conversed around him. Looks like he wasn’t too into the idea of recording with you either.

“You guys ready?” Albedo asks, walking in carrying a stack of papers as he walks past you guys to the soundbooth. The young blonde had been one of the company’s producers since you’d debuted. He reminded you a mix between Kazuha and Xiao, quiet but managed to get his artistic vision across.

“You two,” Albedo gestures to you and Scara, “I was instructed to get you both done quickly before working on the group song.”

“Jean really slotted all this time and took into consideration how much Scaramouche and Yn bicker,” Fischl muses.

“What are we singing?” Scaramouche asks, flipping through the page of lyrics Albedo handed you both.

“A love song,” Albedo answers, hooking a pair of headphones onto his head, “Let’s just try it out and see what needs to be added, go on then.”

He gently pushes you into the recording booth as you both tug on your own pair of headphones.

You eye the lyrics as you tug the microphone closer to you, wincing at the implications behind the words.

The first few attempts were disastrous to say the least. Scaramouche kept criticizing your timing and you kept pointing out how he was overpowering the track. Albedo’s patience, which was unbelievably high if he worked with the likes of you, was wearing thin as you both argued over every line.

After a take that finally sounded decent Albedo gestures for you two to come out of the booth.

“Are we finally done?” Scara asks.

“That sounded pretty good to me,” Childe pipes up.

“If you guys had collaborated earlier we would be drowning in so much money right now,” Venti sighs dejectedly.

“Almost,” Albedo answers, fingers flying over his keyboard, "I just need you both to moan,” Albedo deadpanned.

“What?” Scara slowly says, like he’s on the verge of strangling Albedo by the neck.

“Before you say anything just listen to this clip.”

You couldn’t even process anything before Albedo was hitting play and your gentle voice mixed with Scara’s came out of the speakers, followed by some harmonies by Aether and then Xiao that he’d added in later. It all sounded good as they all harmonized together, but even you could feel that something was missing.

“So, you need us to do what ?”

“Moan, so I can use it as backup vocals,” Albedo hummed, twirling a pen with his fingers, seeming nonchalant about what he was asking of them.

“Fuck no,” Scara says, jutting a finger at you, “Why do I have to moan on the same song as them.”

“I don’t want to either,” you huff as your members erupt into a fit of laughter behind you. The traitors.

“It’s just my suggestion,” Albedo says, putting his hands up, “Just try it out.”

“I don’t get paid enough for this, how am I supposed to moan with Yn next to me?”

“I get dried up just looking at you.”

“The world gets dry from looking at you.”

“You should have no trouble faking a moan, since it’s probably what everyone you’ve ever slept with has done.”

Albedo snaps his fingers in front of you both.

“I don’t care how you do it, just harmonize a moan or two for me,” Albedo says, pushing you both back into the booth, “I would like to go home early for once.”

“We won’t be able to see you,” Albedo adds, “So feel free to do whatever helps you get out the best moans.”

“Gross,” Scara called out as Albedo shut the door behind him.

“I’m going to kill myself,” you mumble as you tug the microphone towards you once again.

Scara glares at you as you both stand in the booth, the microphone between you two a symbol of your forced cooperation. You can feel the tension radiating off him, and it's not helping your own nerves. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

"Let's just get this over with," you mutter, avoiding Scara's eyes.

"Fine," he snaps, crossing his arms. "But don't think for a second that I'm happy about this."

You roll your eyes. "Yeah, well, neither am I."

There's a long, uncomfortable silence as you both stare at the microphone. Outside the booth, Albedo is watching, his expression expectant. You glance at Scara, trying to gauge his mood. He's scowling, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something like hesitation.

"Look," you say, trying to sound reasonable in an attempt to get this over with. "Let's just do one take and see how it goes. If it sounds terrible, we can convince Albedo to scrap the idea."

Scara raises an eyebrow, but after a moment, he nods. "Fine. One take."

You both lean towards the microphone, your faces inches apart. You can feel Scara's breath on your skin, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You close your eyes, trying to block out the awkwardness, and focus on the task at hand.

Taking a deep breath, you let out a soft, hesitant moan. It feels strange and embarrassing, but you push through, hoping it will be over soon. Beside you, Scara does the same, his moan blending with yours.

Scaramouche’s moans would usually sound like a sexually-transmitted disease: gross and something that you’d never touch with a fifteen-foot pole, but for a moment, it created an unexpected harmony.

Albedo's voice crackles through the intercom. "That was... actually not bad. Let's try it one more time, but with a bit more feeling. Scara, go a bit lower.”

You both go through the motions again, and you try to ignore how Scara’s moans sound so resonant through your headphones and the heat on your cheeks from making such an intimate sound beside him.

Albedo’s voice comes through the intercom again. “Perfect. That’s exactly what we needed.”

You sigh with relief, tugging off the headphones as fast as you could and slipping out the booth.

As you and Scara step out of the booth, you're immediately met with the smirking faces of the other members. They're lounging on the studio couch, looking far too amused for your liking.

Childe is the first to speak, a stupid grin plastered across his face. "Well, well, look at you two. Didn't know you two were that freaky."

Lumine snickers, giving you both a mock round of applause. "That was hot. It felt like I was interrupting.”

“I hope you all die,” Scara says from beside you before turning to Albedo, “And you’re a freak for suggesting that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Albedo hums, already tuning them out as he has his headphones back on.

"Alright, alright," you say, trying to change the subject. "Can we please focus on something else now?"

Venti stands up, stretching. "Fine, fine. But you know we’re never going to let you live this down, right?"

“I’m personally going to buy several copies of this album,” Yoimiya giggles.

“I hope Albedo makes you guys do something embarrassing,” you huff.

"No wonder you're still a virgin if you sound like that when moaning,” Scaramouche says, smirking as he slips past you to sit on the couch.

“Shut up,” you grumble.

“Can’t even defend yourself,” Scara taunts.

“Lot of talk for someone who also hasn’t gotten laid in a while,” Aether whistles.

“Whose side are you on, Aether?!”

Later that day

“Let’s just get this over with,” you sigh as you follow your members towards the studio.

“I’m excited,” Venti hums, skipping ahead of you.

“I’m surprised at how quickly they pulled this together,” Xiao comments, opening the door for you, “It’s like they’ve been waiting for you two to fuck up.”

“Which you have, several times,” Lumine unhelpfully pipes up from behind you.

“I’m so sick of you guys,” you grumble, accepting your fate.

As you walked into the studio, you could only stare in disbelief at the high ceiling, the windows that took the length of the walls letting in the evening light, poppy color mottled across the sky as the sun quietly set behind you. Wealth practically drips from the room as you look around. You never even used this space for your album photoshoots, since you guys never needed such a big space for just you six.

In one of the corners you spotted a large camera standing tall in front of a white backdrop, the ground adorned with roses and petals. The white-pink petals fluttered in the wind as the fans in the corner caused them to float throughout the studio. The reds and pinks jump out against the white. It was sickeningly romantic. You wanted to throw up at the implication.

You spotted Jean talking to Scaramouche, who looked like she was giving the other a pep talk before she spotted you and waved you over.

“Yn! We were just discussing the photoshoot, Lisa will instruct you two after she’s done talking to the crew. I need to go chat with them, you two stay here and get ready,” Jean rushed out, calling over some stylists to fix you guys up, already out of breath as she dashed over to Lisa.

“You’re late,” Scara says as his greeting as a group of women start fussing over your guys’ hair and outfits.

“You’re early, tryhard.”

“Not your best comeback,” Yoimiya whistles from a few feet away.

“Alright you guys,” Lisa calls out, walking over to where your groups were gathered getting touched up, “We’re going to get the group shots over with, then some solo ones, and we’ll separate to do some pairing shots.”

They all stood together awkwardly as they waited for the staff to finish setting up the cameras, once they finally did they led the group and positioned them. For group pictures they had all the girls stand to one side and the guys on the other, so you guys were in a crescent moon shape. Right after you all separate, the girls in another set and the males in a different one.

The cameraman moved and adjusted everyone for what felt like a hundred dozen times before he finally clapped and positioned you guys to take the picture. He had you hold a pose where you were sitting on a bench and leaning on your side for what felt like forever, you would surely gain some sort of back pain from this.

The most awkward part was the solo photoshoots. Even after becoming an idol you still felt awfully awkward when doing them, but when it was just your members you could manage. But being in front of Scara made you feel extra self conscious.

People like Aether and Childe had a blast, and all the girls seemed to be enjoying it. But you felt quite embarrassed as you were told to pose seductively and show more skin. You weren't alone in this predicament, since Xiao and Kazuha seemed to be having a tough time as well when they were forced to manspread on some seats. Scaramouche became complacent and let the cameraman adjust him accordingly, he even went along with the whorish poses Lisa was having too much fun making them all do.

“Doesn’t Scara look good manspreading half naked like that?” Venti whispers in your ear.

You jump, startled as you stare back at him in disdain.

“No,” you scoff, “Stop ogling him.”

You’re still still stuck on the fact that Scaramouche is shirtless and actually has a decent build. Yes, it's objectively hot—something that you’d admit under the pain of getting an arm hacked off—but it's also quite insane.

With the group photoshoot finished, they all bid farewell as they separated off into their own corners to do their paired shots.

“Alright, Scara and Yn you guys are going to be in Set B,” Jean stated, gently pushing the two of them in that direction. You look and spot the dreaded set where it looked like cupid himself threw up.

You both trailed behind the cameramen over to it, trying your best to not step and wilt any of the flowers artistically placed on the ground.

“Okay, I’m in charge of you guys!” Lisa grinned as you guys approached her, “I’m going to have so much fun with you two.”

“Not too much fun,” Scaramouche grumbles as you both go to stand before the camera.

“Scara, don’t be a prude and unbutton your shirt. Yn, I need you to lay down,” Lisa instructs, walking over and pushing you down until you’re laying down on the petals. You were still reluctant at the fact you would have to do a paired photoshoot with Scara, so your reaction time was still quite slow. Lisa eventually just adjusted your body as needed and bent down next to you, spreading out your hair and laid some petals on it, standing up to admire her work.

“Scaramouche, you’re gonna hover over them and hold that position for a while, and when I say next you lean in as if you’re going to kiss them. Is that alright?” Lisa asked, already heading back to the camera and having the cameramen adjust it lower to capture them in the frame.

“If I say no, does that do anything?” Scara asks.

“No! Now get to it!”

Scara mutters a curse under his breath as he begins to unbutton his button up. You catch a glimpse of his bare skin before he’s kneeling down to knees and crawling over you, placing both palms on either side of your head and leaning forward. Since he couldn’t just hold a plank over you forever, Scara placed one knee in between your legs and another one beside your left leg for stability.

Your breath was hitched in your throat at the proximity, you could see every detail of Scara’s stupid face and makeup from underneath him. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to how intimate you both were being right now, you’d never been underneath someone like this before. Unless you were being pinned down by Lumine during a fistfight of some sort when you accidentally ate her food.

“Yn! Put your arms around his neck!”

You flinched at Lisa’s yell but did as you were told and wrapped your arms around Scara’s neck, bringing him closer as you did so. There wasn't anywhere to look but at Scara’s eyes, which felt awkward and weird in itself, so you opted for your eyes to wander. But they landed on his lips instead, which wasn’t any better.

Scara’s dark eyes bore into yours, his gaze not wavering as you looked everywhere but at him. That was before you realized this was a literal photoshoot and adjusted your eyes back to him.

“Both of you, stop glaring!”

Scaramouche sighed above you, before forcing himself to soften his gaze towards you. It felt odd to be looked at like an equal by him.

You study Scaramouche closely, now that you’re forced to. He has these lips that are plush pink and they meet just barely like the slightest touch would coax them open. His eyelashes are long and there’s a beauty mark just shy of his eye coated over with concealer. His ears are small and there’s an assortment of earrings hanging off of them, ones he never wears during practice. He’s stupidly pretty. It makes you want to punch him.

“Alright, hold for ten then move to the next position.”

Ten seconds? That felt like hours due to the way Scara was looking down at you, a fabricated gentle gaze in his eyes as he eyed you up and down.

“Next!”

“The faster we comply the faster I can get out of this stupid position with you,” Scara huffs, his voice barely above a whisper before he leans forwards and hovers his lips right above your jaw. Your body instinctively moves its hands to run through his hair, as if you both were actually going to kiss. God forbid.

“Cut!”

The lights dimmed and Scara immediately pushed himself off of you. You slowly sat up, dizzy from the stress of being that close to someone you disliked.

“I’m the one who had to hover over you and you’re tired? Pathetic,” Scara huffs, reaching down to roughly tug your arm so you’re standing and almost immediately letting go of you after.

“Don’t you think this is a little too much?” Scara asks, walking ahead of you towards where Lisa was looking through the photos

“We made everyone do paired shoots, see!” Lisa says, turning the screen to show you.

You and Scara scroll through to see all your members in pairs like you both, but none of them are quite like yours.

“So Venti and Aether got to pose in a car and we had to fake a kiss?” Scara scoffs, “Where’s the delete button–?"

Lisa yanks the camera from him before he has the chance and shoos them off.

“I’ve got enough from you guys, go get your makeup undone.”

“This is so dumb,” you grumble as you follow behind Scara. All of this work because you both couldn’t keep your mouth shut during an awards show and now you had to fake being in love with the idiot.

You pray to Buddha, God, and whatever other deity out there that was most certainly laughing at you, that you can manage to get along with Scaramouche before anyone does notice it’s all fake.

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

when i say moans i mean like the song Mmmh by KAI like do u see the vision

also the album cover can be you or one of the other members depending on what ur comf with 😇

pls ignore how is it fake is listed twice 😔 also the lyrics are from taylor i can see you

yk the drill comment on the masterlist if i can use ur user and make u a fan

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

notes sorry guys for the long wait i was lowk goin thru it but im back 🗣️

taglist closed — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @jangyung @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @kazuhasbabe

#scaramouche x reader smau #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #scaramouche x male reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x you #stuck with you smau

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embarrasingmf · 1 month

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What Was I Thinkin’

PAIRING: Dean Winchester x reader

SUMMARY: you find yourself sneaking out of bobby’s house to be with your boyfriend, dean.

WORD COUNT: 1.2k (I’m writing longer fics yay!)

WARNINGS: established relationship, early seasons dean bc I feel like he’d be more likely to do this, me trying to combine lyrics of a song into a fic (yes, that deserves a warning.)

A/N: uhh obviously this was inspired by What Was I Thinkin’ by Dierks Bentley (PLS LISTEN TO THAT AND 5-1-5-0, THEY’RE BOTH SO GOOD🙏🙏 /nf) also I know dean probably wouldn’t listen to country music but let’s js pretend for the sake of the fic!

You were lying in bed, staring at the cracking paint on the ceiling as you waited for a certain someone to throw a small pebble at your window.

When you heard the thump against your window, you immediately sprung up and looked out.

It was your boyfriend, Dean.

Well… secret boyfriend, technically. Your father, Bobby, didn’t know about you guys yet!

You always remember all the times Bobby had chewed you a new one, blabbering about how much of a bad influence Dean would be.

You didn’t think so, you saw the good in Dean, how sweet he could be despite his rough edges.

Once Dean saw your head peek through the window, a wide grin appeared on his face.

He threw you a wink before beckoning you to come to him. You nodded and quickly shut your window.

You snuck out of your bedroom, narrowly avoiding the floorboards that you knew for sure would creak and possibly wake up your father.

Sneaking out with Dean or friends in general had its perks.

That perk being knowing which floorboards to avoid and which ones to not avoid.

It took you a few extra minutes to get out the front door this time around because last time Bobby had already been awake for some odd reason and asked what you were doing up.

You quickly made an excuse, saying you were getting some water before hastily filling up a glass and retreating back to your room.

It was safe to say that you made it out of the house without any interference from Bobby.

That was until you heard him faintly cursing from inside the house, and you just knew that he saw or heard you sneak out.

You rushed over to Dean’s Impala — or *Baby* as he always called it — and swung the door open, almost ripping it off before climbing inside.

“Drive. Now!” You told Dean in a slightly panicked tone.

Dean raised an eyebrow and looked over, seeing Bobby running out of the house and waving a 12-gauge.

He put Baby in drive and tore out of the junkyard and he could hear Bobby fire a few shots.

He’d have to check his tailgate later.

After speeding down the road for a bit, Dean reached over and pulled out a mixtape for you to take.

me ‘n them was the title that was messily scrawled onto it.

“What’s this?” Came your questioning voice, yet you put the mixtape into the dashboard anyway.

“It’s a mixtape I made. It’s ‘bout us.” Dean explained proudly, hitting a button on the dashboard before you heard a country song start playing.

You looked over at him, slack-jawed and eyes wide. In all the time that you know him, he never listened to country music.

“What Was I Thinkin’ by Dierks Bentley, seriously?” You raised an eyebrow, wondering if Dean was in the right headspace.

“Just listen to it!” Dean assured, casting a glance in your direction. “I promise it’ll remind you about us.”

You sighed and leaned back in the passenger seat of the Impala, listening to the lyrics of the song that was playing.

She snuck out one night and met me by the front gate

Her daddy came out wavin' that 12-gauge

We tore out the drive, he peppered my tailgate

What was I thinkin'?

You scoffed at listening to the lyrics, it sounded just like what had happened moments earlier.

You reached out to turn it off, or skip the song, but Dean smacked your hand away.

“Uh-uh, you’re listening to this song whether you like it or not.” Dean chided, waving a finger in your direction. You huffed.

Oh, I knew there'd be hell to pay

But that crossed my mind a little too late

You had later noticed Dean taking a dirt path that was off the highway, but you didn’t question it. You had a vague idea on what he was planning to do.

So instead, you busied yourself with listening to the lyrics of the Dierks Bentley song that was starting to become catchy.

'Cause I was thinkin' 'bout a little white tank top

Sittin' right there in the middle by me

I was thinkin' 'bout a long kiss

Man, just gotta get goin' where the night might lead

I know what I was feelin'

But what was I thinkin'?

What was I thinkin'?

You felt the Impala jolt slightly as Dean put it in park, opening the car door and climbing out.

You climbed out as well, watching as Dean sat on the hood of Baby and glanced back at you before patting the spot next to him.

You wordlessly complied, the front of the Impala shifting and creaming under your guys’ combined weight.

Dean leaned in close, pressing a chaste kiss to the skin where your neck and shoulder met.

You chuckled, nudging Dean away before looking at him.

“Did you really take me out here just to see the stars?” Dean placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense at the prospect that you didn’t like his surprise.

“You don’t like my gift?” Dean asked, his tone full of playful accusation. “I’ll have you know that I planned this out perfectly.”

You laughed, turning back to the night sky.

“Whatever,”

Dean laughed as well, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side.

—————————————————————————

It wasn’t until half past two that Dean had gotten you home, and he couldn’t deny the spike of slight nervousness he felt when he saw Bobby sitting on the porch.

That stupid 12-gauge was still with him, too. It was leaning against the porch steps, almost taunting him.

To be honest, Dean wouldn’t be surprised if Bobby decided to shoot him in the chest right there and then.

But he didn’t.

Instead he slowly got up and walked over, arms crossed as he examined the two of you.

Bobby’s eyes landed on Dean, his gaze scrutinizing.

“You idjit, thinkin’ you could just make my child sneak out the house to hang out with ya?” He grunted before moving his gaze to you.

“And you.” You shifted awkwardly, swallowing down your nerves.

You were a hundred percent ready for your father to demand that you stop seeing Dean, even if it’d break your heart.

“I can tell you really like this idjit,” Bobby admitted with a sigh, his arms dropping to the side. “So I’ll let this whole thing slide.”

You felt relief hit you like a freight train, your eyes lighting up with a hint of hope.

“Really?”

Bobby nodded, “Yup. Just make sure to tell me if you’re gonna sneak out later in the night so I don’t almost have a heart attack worryin’ about you.”

You laughed quietly, looking over at Dean.

“Okay, dad.”

Bobby gave a small smile before he walked back inside.

You turned to Dean, smiling at him. “Well, I’ll see ya next time you arrange a date for us.

Dean smirked, “you bet.”

You stepped closer before leaning up and kissing his cheek.

Dean’s smirk fell into a giddy smile before he pulled you in for a proper kiss on the lips.

Soon after, he watched you run back inside as you waved wildly at him in goodbye before the front door closed behind you.

—————————————————————————

tags<3 : @ryvkkr

#ayla writes #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader

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kentopedia · 9 months

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LET YOUR HEART BE LIGHT — LEVI ACKERMAN

summary . . . your childhood best friend, eren, invites you to his christmas eve party, but your ex is going to be there. in order to get back at him, levi tags along as your fake boyfriend

contents . . . sfw, fake dating, f!reader, age gap (levi early 30s, reader early 20s), past unhealthy relationships, pining, fluff, humor, miscommunication, light angst, insecure and shy reader, zeke jaeger :/, not so friends to lovers, bff hange, she/they prns for hange — 12.3k

notes . . . my bday gift for my beloved that i have been speeding through the past couple of days, so pls ignore any errors. i adore him so dearly and he means so much to me. it's a little bit cheesy, and may be a little be rushed for christmas, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless. merry christmas everyone i love u all so so much <33

“Are you even listening to me, Hange?” you asked, sighing as you leaned your head back on the sofa, taking a long sip of your wine. The alcohol washed over you, soothed the tension that was wrought within your body as the warmth began buzzing through you.

Hange poked their head up from the simmering pot, a cloud of steam wafting up under the lid. With the combination of vegetables and spices, you were pretty sure that she was making stew for dinner — and far too much for just two of you, by the looks of it.

“Sorry,” Hange said, sheepish, glasses falling down her nose. “I’m almost done, I promise.”

You frowned, but waved your hand, letting them return to the kitchen. Hange hummed a tune, their delightful mood such a contrast to the horrific news you’d received earlier in the day.

Briefly, your mind wandered off into the misery you’d let yourself wallow in, but Hange came around the corner quickly, stilling your anger. There were two bowls in their hands, and they gave one to you, letting it warm your own palms, the smell deliciously comforting.

“So what’s this about your ex?” Hange asked, interested, their voice expressive, attentive, as usual. “You got invited to his party?”

The scalding spoonful of soup slid down your throat, as you prepared yourself to start the conversation from the beginning. Hange was a horrible multitasker, though she denied it, and your entire half-hour of rambling had gone in one ear, and out the other.

Though, just as you were about to speak, you were interrupted once more by a knocking at the front door. You glanced over to the source of the noise, then back to your roommate, eyebrows raised. “Are you expecting company?”

Hange laughed a little; it was such a carefree sound, and one that always seemed to be spilling from their lips. “Oh, it’s just Levi. I told him I was making a lot of stew, so he could come over for dinner.”

Of course — Who else would be banging at your door at this hour?

You sighed, the sound leaving you in something akin to a small whisper, your expression falling in disappointment.

Levi Ackerman lived on the floor below you, in an apartment you’d never been to, living a life you knew almost nothing about. It had been two years since you’d met, when he helped Hange move into your shared apartment, and yet, he was still an enigma after all that time.

What you did know was that Levi was a few years older than Hange, many more years older than you, and he always seemed to be around. He was quiet, for the most part, but he had a sarcastic sense of humor that only a few people seemed to understand. Him and Hange were comfortable joking with each other; your roommate never got offended by his comments, ones that would’ve been scandalizing to some others.

For a while, their comfort with one another had led you to believe they were dating. You’d asked Hange about it one day at dinner, a fleeting comment, as you stuck a fork into your dish.

“So how long have you and Levi been together?” you’d said.

Hange had shot water out of their nose, fell back in their chair, cackling so hard that tears sprang to their eyes. You’d only stared back like an idiot, poked at your food, until Hange sobered, and apologized for embarrassing you.

“Oh, it’s not like that,” Hange explained, sipping on their soda, still smiling like you’d told the funniest joke imaginable. “Levi and I are just close friends. My partner lives a few hours away, going back to school. He’ll be moving back home in a year.”

You’d supposed it made sense, looking back. Their embraces were often stiff on Levi’s end, his affection coming on minimally. Hange was a much more touchy person, so perhaps, that’s where you’d crafted the image of them in a relationship.

Which was a silly one, now that you could see your error in hindsight.

“And Levi?” you’d asked shortly after, curious about the man you’d known—and still knew—so little about.

“Oh, Levi’s not with anyone,” Hange had hummed, rolling their eyes like this was a point of contention. “He doesn’t really date.”

“Why?”

“He doesn’t like to.”

“Oh.”

That’d been that, of course.

You hadn’t asked any other questions, but in the months that followed, your mind had whirled, piecing together an image of Levi Ackerman that made the most sense to you.

He was handsome; startlingly so. Beautiful to the point that you averted your gaze when he glanced at you, your cheeks heating, palms sweaty. A thirty-something, intelligent, quiet man with his act together. He drew women to him easily, took them back home. . . perhaps a different one every night. Maybe he kept them around for a bit, until he got bored of them.

He’d never romance them, and they’d never expect that from him. If he called them back, which he did rarely, it was never because he liked them. It was because he wanted something from them, nothing more.

At least, that’s what you thought Levi Ackerman was like, in the times he was outside of the four walls of your apartment. Perhaps your stiffness towards him continued to stem from that caricature you’d created.

You sighed, bringing yourself back to the present as Hange let Levi in through the door, his shoes loud against the hardwood.

Really, it was hard not to form biased opinions when Levi offered up so little about himself.

When you did talk with him, which was frequently, the conversations always centered around you. He had asked you many times about school when you’d been finishing up your degree; Levi asked you about your job when you’d first started.

Of course, he never offered anything up about his job, which you knew must have been quite nice, nor about his family, which you figured must have been quite complicated.

And, as always, you were forced to wipe your hands on your pants, the sweat turning your palms clammy, as you scolded yourself for the fact that Levi Ackerman still made you nervous.

Levi’s eyes flitted across the room as he walked in, the navy blue irises cool when they met your own. He didn’t smile, but he made some sort of acknowledgement of your existence, before Hange had dragged him into the kitchen and filled up a bowl of soup for him.

Moments later, he was on one of the chairs before you, the bottle of wine in the middle of your odd little circle. Unconsciously, you had sucked in a breath, looking away, as Levi prodded at his bowl like he was afraid of the contents.

“Well, it’s not going to jump out and eat you,” Hange rolled her eyes, snickering, at Levi’s bored expression. “Just try it, Levi.”

“It smells different. What the hell did you do to it?” Levi let the spoonful fall back into the bowl, the broth dripping off the edge of the silverware. “I’m not participating in any kinds of experiments, Hange, if that’s what this is.”

“Oh, be grateful.” Hange huffed, crossing their arms over their chest. “I followed a recipe. If you don’t want it, I’ll take it down the hall to Erwin.”

When Levi said nothing for another moment, Hange made a move to steal the bowl out of his hands.

Quickly, he guided it away.

“No, no. I’ll eat it. Your cooking may be horrendous, but it certainly saves me time.”

Hange smiled, satisfied, reading between Levi’s cool remark, sensing a thank you in there somewhere.

It had been hard, at first, to talk to Levi, and understanding him was a skill that you’d found you could only develop with time. He had a dry sense of humor, said very little with a smile, and could certainly be mean when he wanted to be. His words were often blunt, and even when he was joking, it was hard to tell.

Once, when you’d first met, Levi had hurt your feelings. You’d tried not to let it show, but Hange had known, as always, and had squeezed your shoulder, reassuring.

“Levi’s just like that sometimes, but he’s a good person. Just give him a chance. I think you’ll find you’re a lot more similar than you think.”

Similar was a bit far-fetched, but you supposed you’d grown to appreciate Levi’s sense of humor. Perhaps you even found him funny at times, laughed at his jokes. He was kind when he wanted to be, even if his communication was a one-way street. There was a distance between you, but a part of you wanted to keep it that way.

Levi ate a spoonful of the soup, swirling it around in his mouth before swallowing. His gaze trailed to the ceiling, thoughtful, before muttering some sort of praise. “Surprisingly better than the last stew you made, Hange,” he said, and Hange was pleased, a smile widening across her face. “I assume your roommate had nothing to do with it, did she?”

You made a face at him, not sure if he was insulting you, or trying to suggest that you could’ve improved Hange’s cooking. Either way, you returned his dry tone, swirling your spoon around in the bowl. “Well, if I did, it certainly wasn’t to please your fussy tastes.”

Levi almost cracked a smile at that, but snorted instead, leaning back in the cushion of his chair.

For some reason, Levi’s movement seemed to trigger Hange’s memory, and they flung their spoon out of the bowl, splashing soup on the coffee table, as they pointed it at you.

“Wait, finish your story!” Hange cut off Levi’s sentence, and he frowned, but said nothing, getting comfortable on the couch.

Today, he was wearing a gray cable-knit sweater, and a beautiful silver watch that likely cost an entire months worth of your salary. His hair had been mussed a bit from the cold, cheeks tinged red.

Levi must have come from outside, you’d realized, not just downstairs. Another mystery that you would never uncover — how Levi spent his weekends, besides the time he spent in your apartment.

Distracted, you looked back down at your hands, hating the way that Levi pinned you with his gaze. He was far too attentive, his eyes too intense; even if you had been as confident as you liked to believe, as self-assured, you’d never been able to hold eye-contact with the dark-haired man for very long.

“Oh, that,” you said, huffing, recalling the news that had been delivered to you earlier that evening. Not so bad, really; you were making a big deal out of something so small. But the casual remark, via a text message from your high school best-friend, had been enough to sour your mood for the rest of the afternoon. “Well, Eren is having a party on Christmas Eve. All of our high school friends will be back home for the holidays, so I’ll actually get to see them for once.”

Hange smiled, their eyes lighting up, but the confusion in her expression shone through knitted eyebrows. “Well, that’s great!” they said, as Levi sat quietly, slurping on his soup like he’d been raised in some penthouse apartment, a view shining over the city. You could imagine him with a nanny that had been specifically hired to teach him manners. A playful version of Levi as a child was near impossible to envision — you saw him only sitting calmly, politely, hands crossed over his lap. “Why do you seem so upset?”

You looked away, chewing the inside of your mouth, your stomach turning. It was the last thing you wanted to think about, the way your two desires were at odds. How desperately you wanted to see all your old friends, the ones that were spread all over. None of you had been all together since you were in high school.

Yet, the other part of you considered calling Eren and canceling on him, telling him you wanted to spend it with your family instead, that you’d just have to catch up with them next time.

Who knew when that would be.

“Zeke’s coming,” you sighed, rubbing your arm. “It’s only been a year. I don’t want to see him again.”

Hange’s eyes widened. Slowly, she leaned back, nodding, as understanding flicked through her face. “I see.”

“Exactly,” you swallowed the last bit of soup, letting the warmth comfort you, wash over you in waves. Perhaps, it would cleanse some of the anxiety that sat riddled in your chest. “Now you see…”

“Well, sure I mean—”

“Who the hell is Zeke?” Levi interrupted, drawing your attention back to him, his back straight, despite being relaxed in the chair. Everything about him was so put together. Even the socks he wore even seemed expensive, his shoes by the door freshly shined. “An ex-boyfriend?”

“Ex-boyfriend seems too kind of a word for Zeke Jaeger,” you spat, letting his name drip from your mouth with every ounce of hatred you could muster. “He’s a plague upon my life. I’d do anything not to see him again.”

Levi set the bowl down, curiosity piqued. “I don’t see why your friend invited him if he’s so horrible.”

“Zeke is Eren’s brother,” Hange offered.

“Half-brother,” you corrected, tucking your knees into your chest to rest your chin against them. “Don’t give him that much credit. Eren’s an idiot, but even he doesn’t deserve to be related to someone as awful as Zeke.”

Hange laughed, though you didn’t find it to be as hilarious as they did. Your scowl deepened.

“Anyway, Eren’s throwing it at his parent’s house since they’ll be out for the night — Zeke invited himself. With his new girlfriend, I’m sure.” Your rolled your eyes, tucking your cheek against the couch cushion. “She’ll be better than me, of course. Probably prettier.”

Levi studied you for a moment, reading the hurt that you tried to veil on your face. Usually, you weren’t so open with him. You didn’t like being vulnerable, and especially not with Levi, who seemed to view any emotion as a weakness. “I see the issue.”

You huffed, a sound of agreement, and played with the loose thread on the sofa. “Yeah, well, it was stupid of me to date my best friend’s brother anyway. When has that ever worked out?”

Hange reached across the coffee table to squeeze your hand, sympathetic. “Hey. Don’t do that. What’s done is done. Besides, what are the odds he’ll actually show up?”

“Uh, pretty fucking high if he’s staying with his dad for Christmas,” you scowled, rubbing your eye, makeup smeared on the side of it when you drew away.

Hange’s lips pulled together, flattening into a thin line. “Well…” Dark brown eyes flitted between you and Levi, who was looking at your roommate with something less than amusement. “You could always take Levi as your date.”

“You can’t be serious,” Levi said, his tone flat, lips drawing into a thin line.

“What? That’s… No,” you laughed awkwardly, growing hot, nervous. Suddenly, you were worried that your panicked stutter made it seem like this had been your plan all along. To get Levi to come as your date — which was ridiculous, really, but perhaps not so farfetched with the way he regarded you. “I can’t do that.”

“Why? It’d be a big old fuck you to Zeke Jaeger. Levi is far better looking than him.” Hange gestured to Levi, as if you weren’t already painfully aware of how beautiful their best friend was. “He’s better in almost every way, actually. Not that the bar is very high.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Levi asked, poking Hange on the side of the head. “Almost every way?”

“Zeke’s pretty tall.”

Levi rolled his eyes, dismissive. “Like that matters.”

“It does!”

You stopped them before they could bicker any further. Hange seemed to make it their mission to always rile Levi up — not that it was very difficult, but it always brought an amused smile to her lips.

“Hange’s right, though. The bar is not so high.” You shrugged, curling in on yourself again — just another reminder of how much of a mistake you’d made. How desperate you must have been to have fallen for Zeke Jaeger. Even Eren had warned you about him. “It’s a stupid idea, though. No one would believe it. Least of all, Zeke.”

“Why not?” Levi said. “You think I’d be a bad boyfriend. Think I can’t play that role well?”

“That’s not—” you began, but let the words fall away, sniffing back the self-deprecating sentiment. It wasn’t that you needed him to seem like a good boyfriend. Levi was unapproachable, cold, reserved, regardless of who he was with… Even his best friend. It would take very little from him to sell the performance. A small smile, a hand around your waist. Perhaps a kiss on the forehead for good measure.

It wasn’t that, really.

It was more that Zeke would know, immediately. Would see you together, and laugh to himself, because someone like Levi would never want someone like you. A statement as painfully clear as the color of the sky.

You didn’t want to admit that to either of them, though. So, instead, you narrowed your eyes, challenging Levi, perhaps, even, daring him to retract his statement. “Well… can you?”

“Which are you asking?” Levi drummed his fingers against his thigh, pale and slender, his nails clean, neatly trimmed. Distracting, almost. “If I can put on a performance, or if I can be a good partner?”

You shrugged.

Levi’s eyes narrowed further, thoughtful.

“I’ll go with you,” he finally said, after a near minute of silence, in which you weren’t sure what to say. Hange watched beside you, painfully entertained. “I’d like to see how truly awful this boyfriend of yours is.”

“Don’t say boyfriend,” you made a face, “and he’s pretty damn awful.”

The next few days, you’d mapped out something of a plan with Levi — though, there was little between you that you needed to figure out. It wasn’t as if you were strangers. Levi had known vaguely that you’d had a boyfriend up until last Christmas, had known that you were still close with your group of friends from high school.

He knew quite a bit about you, something you only just now realized. Levi often said little, but he was observant, picked things up easily. He seemed to know you better than you thought, and it wouldn’t be difficult to convince everyone of your closeness.

With that knowledge, you calmed, realizing that, maybe, it wouldn’t be so difficult to spin your relationship into a romantic one.

The story followed: Levi had been there for you after Zeke had broken up with you. You’d been friends for a while. He had asked you on a date shortly after. Simple — no outlandish lie.

Still, a part of you contemplated telling Zeke you’d been fucking Levi while you were still together. He probably wouldn’t believe it anyway, but you wanted to see even a hint of frustration on his usually dull expression.

On your way back to your hometown, Levi insisted on driving his car, one that was a few years old, but still had that new smell, every single inch of it outrageously clean, each crack in the cushions vacuumed. There was hardly anything in the vehicle; a pair of sunglasses in the center console, some spare cash next to it.

He’d picked you up with two coffees, which now rested, empty, in the cupholders.

The two of you spent the ride mostly in silence, listening to a Christmas playlist that Levi had awkwardly switched to, as if he’d been embarrassed of whatever he’d been playing before. One hand held the wheel, the other resting against the console, tapping on the leather between you.

You stared, the movement of his fingers distracting. For the second time, you were staring at his slender hands, the veins dark under his skin. How nice they were, like something out of a painting.

God, when did you start noticing that?

“Thank you for the coffee,” you said, realizing your manners all too late, embarrassed you hadn’t said it earlier. “How did you know what I liked?”

Levi glanced over, slowing down as the light turned red. For a moment, he hesitated; contemplated. Pink tongue flicked over his bottom lip as the car idled. “Hange told me.”

“Oh.”

Levi shrugged. “Well, you’re welcome anyway.”

The light turned green. Silence settled between you once again.

You twitched uncomfortably, wondering how much you should say — or shouldn’t say. There weren’t many times you had been together, just the two of you, without Hange somewhere near.

Levi didn’t seem to be in a talkative mood, but then again, he could’ve just been focused on driving. He was gracious enough to take on that responsibility, and you didn’t want to be distracting, even if the near silence was driving you mad. On the other hand, there wasn’t much you wanted to say. Every time you thought of something, a conversation to strike up, it died just as quickly on your lips.

Eventually, Levi seemed to grow tired of the awkwardness between you, how stiff you appeared to be. His eyes darted towards you once again, studying you from the corner of his eye. “If you want people to believe that we’re dating, you’re going to have to stop acting like that.”

You blinked at him, shifting in your seat. “Like what?”

“Like…” Levi shrugged. “Like I’m holding you at gunpoint.”

A laugh bubbled out of you. “What does that mean?”

He gave you a blank expression, certainly calling you an idiot with nothing more than a gaze. “It means you make it blatantly obvious you don’t want to be around me. I know you dislike me, but maybe…” Levi shook his head, dark hair falling into his eyes. “At least try to pretend otherwise.”

Your stomach twisted up as Levi worked his jaw, frustrated, undeniably. For some unknown reason, it made you feel ashamed, even more shy around him than you’d been before. Levi was probably used to women who knew what they wanted. Who could meet his eyes without feeling a sense of shyness creep up their spine. Who could do a lot of things that you couldn’t, and could match his wit and sarcasm without feeling the rush of dread that you’d offended him.

“I don’t dislike you, Levi,” you said, huffing. “I just — don’t think we get along well.”

“That’s news to me,” he said, tapping the gearshift. The music turned down two notches from where he punched the button on the wheel. “Hange says we’re quite compatible.”

“What?” you laughed loudly, ignoring the race of your heart, the furl of anxiety in your chest. “Don’t listen to anything they say — Hange wants to set me up with everyone. You’re hardly the best option.”

Levi, for once, quirked his lips in something near a smile. “Funny. I thought the same thing.”

You scoffed, warm again, crossing your arms over your chest. It was infuriating, really, how you felt around him. Surely you weren’t the only one — Levi radiated confidence and authority, entirely. You’d never seen him interact with many others, but surely they averted their gazes, cheeks warm, stumbling over words. Surely, you couldn’t be the only one who seemed to feel so small under the breadth of his presence.

Another song played before he spoke again, tapping his fingers against the wheel. Familiarity sprung up around you as the landscape began to change, the scenery transforming into one you’d grown up in.

“Why did you date Zeke, anyway?” Levi asked, this time, not bothering to look at you. He stared straight ahead, passing a slower car, the blinker tapping wildly against the dashboard.

You shrugged, scratching your wrist as you looked out the window. How you loathed this topic of conversation. It didn’t matter why you’d dated that man — only that you had, and you regretted it.

You found yourself telling Levi anyway. “He was funny,” you said, quietly, watching the clouds pass above in the sky, dark and gloomy. “He was charming. He liked to read and so did I.”

Levi hummed, but it was dismissive, an acknowledgement of pity and nothing more. Deep down, he was probably laughing, amused at your idiocy. “That’s it?”

“I know it’s stupid… I was stupid,” you said, defensive, curling your hands into fists. “He was my first boyfriend, and I was naive. I wanted to be loved, and Zeke told me he loved me.” You felt the wash of angry tears come back upon you, and you flushed them away, sniffing. “I just didn’t know he’d told two other women the same thing at the same time.”

Levi’s eyes flashed, surprised, as they darted back towards you. “Jesus,” he muttered, fist turning white as it clutched the wheel. “You were right. What a fucking asshole.”

You smiled a bit, shaking your head. For all accounts, Levi could be an asshole in his own way; a comment you decided to keep to yourself.

“Yeah, well, what’s done is done. I don’t give a shit about Zeke Jaeger. He can rot in hell for all I care.” You wiped your face, yawning as the sun began it’s descent in the sky. “I’ve given up on finding love anyway. I just don’t want Zeke to have the satisfaction of knowing it was his fault.” A sigh left you. “Besides, that was probably the point. Our relationship was likely just a way to test some philosophy he’d come up with — nothing matters, least of all love.” You rolled your eyes. “He’s like that.”

Levi didn’t say anything, but you could see him thinking, his eyebrows tied closely together. “But, you know that’s not true, don’t you?” he said, his tone flat, as usual. “You can’t possibly think that you don’t deserve to be loved.”

You smiled. “Of course,” you said, nodding. “I’m just better off without it.”

Levi took a breath, looked over once more, and then let the conversation die.

You hoped it sounded much more convincing to Levi’s ears than your own.

While you were visiting, over the next couple of days, you were staying at Pieck’s apartment. She was two years older, but had been in some of your university courses, and you’d met back in college. You’d found out you were from the same city, and had bonded instantly, having lived such a similar life, in the same place, without even realizing it.

The three of you had grabbed a quick dinner, and when you got back late, Pieck gave you a little tour of her small apartment, showing Levi more than anything, since you’d visited her twice before.

“Here’s the other bedroom,” Pieck said, flipping the switch on. It was a room filled with soft pink decor, the comforter lacy and white. “My roommate is visiting family, so you’re welcome to sleep in here; she doesn’t mind. I’ve cleaned the sheets and everything.”

Levi thanked her, and Pieck smiled sleepily, walking back to her own bedroom with a wave.

You watched as Levi set his bag down, tugged off his thick jacket. He hung it, gently, on the back of the desk chair, unhooking his watch to set it down beside the coat. His wrist looked so bare that way. Nothing to cover it up, exposing the even softer skin where the accessory usually rested.

You looked away. “Is everything okay?” you asked, by way of making your exit, eyes flicking around the room.

Levi glanced up, unfolding a pair of clean clothes from his bag, almost like he’d forgotten you were standing there. “Should something be wrong?” he asked in return, placing a pair of flannel pajama pants next to the gray t-shirt.

For some reason, the image caused your heart to swell, the sight of something so normal within Levi’s grasp. The organ that continuously betrayed you sped up, beating harder.

It was endearing, really, to see such a mundane side of Levi. He always lived in that enigmatic shroud, some sort of ever-present being that you couldn’t quite understand.

You smiled softly. “No. Just wanted to make sure. Goodnight, Levi.”

He said something back, but you were already halfway down the hall, slinging your own bag to Pieck’s room. She was on her side, scrolling through her phone, dark hair splayed across the pillow like a halo. Though, the moment you entered, her attention doubled, eyes crinkling as she grinned.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you said, frowning, as you followed the same routine as Levi, slinging your bag down to pick out a fresh pair of pajamas.

“You didn’t tell me he looked like that,” Pieck muttered, the sound of her voice always tired, no matter how much sleep she got. “Zeke is going to hate him.”

That, at least, had a sense of relief pooling inside you, a laugh spilling out. “I sure hope so.”

She set her phone on the nightstand, laying flat on her back as you continued through your routine. Her introduction to Levi had been brief, but already, she seemed to like him well enough.

Maybe they’d end up together, you thought dimly. Pieck had been single for a while, and you’d always thought she was much more charming than you, much prettier. Perhaps Levi would like her.

The idea put a sour taste in your mouth.

When you returned, face scrubbed, teeth clean, Pieck was nearly asleep, the lamp on her side of the bed the only source of light in the room. She glanced up at you sleepily, batting her eyes before you climbed next to her.

“I can’t believe you,” she said softly, already half-asleep. “How can you stand it?”

“What did I do?”

For a moment, Pieck stared at you like she didn’t know who you were. A yawn left you, even as you tried to hide it.

“Is there something wrong with him? Is that the reason?”

You crinkled your eyebrows together. “Levi?” A million different things ran through your head, but Pieck seemed to want an honest one. “I mean…” Was there, really? Were your speculations and assumptions enough to pass judgement on Levi Ackerman? Or were you just too intimidated by him to admit that he was much nicer than you thought. “Well, you met him, didn’t you?”

She blinked, then laughed, slapping you with the pillow. “You’re so ridiculous. Why aren’t you together then? I mean, actually together?” Pieck hummed, tapping her hand against the pillow, before she tucked it back under her head. “You’ve got hearts in your eyes when you stare at him.”

“What?” you said, bursting into a fit of giggles. You’d thought it was a joke, but Pieck didn’t smile, didn’t even force a laugh alongside you. “I don’t — I’m not.”

“I mean, he clearly likes you quite a bit,” she continued, smiling, “if he came all this way. He listens to you, practically hangs off your every word.” A pause. “Wish someone would look at me like that,” Pieck sighed.

You rolled your eyes. “Levi’s just like that. He’s a good listener.” Although, when it left your lips, the last few words came out slower, more uncertainly. Was he really like that? You could think of plenty of times where he’d blatantly ignored people he didn’t like, left a conversation with a snide comment if he didn’t agree with the subject.

Pieck didn’t seem to believe you, a smile tugging on her lips. “Right. A good listener like you, huh? Listening until you don’t care anymore.” She didn’t give you a chance to respond, your indignant protests enough. “It’s funny. You get so flustered you get when he teases you. I just,” she hesitated, tucking a hand under her cheek. “Well, I just didn’t expect that from you — you weren’t like that with Zeke.”

Again, your cheeks grew hot, your entire body warm. Already, you wanted to kick the covers off, sweat pooling at the backs of your knees. “I’m — No. It’s not. . . Pieck, it’s not.” You buried your face in the pillow, frustrated, hating the grin that curled onto her lips. “Look, I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not like that. He’s just — ” You shook your head, words evading you. “I mean, you’ve seen him.”

Pieck laughed, the sound soft, raspy from exhaustion. “I’m only teasing you,” she whispered, her smile almost wistful. “I know what you mean. He’s older, he’s handsome. He probably knows what he wants.” Then her face grew serious, eyebrows drawing together. “But, I also think you’re not letting yourself admit that you’re attracted to him.”

“Pieck,” you huffed, feeling that itch at the back of your skull, under your skin, that you couldn’t quite scratch. “I’m not. Half of the time, I’m not even sure if I enjoy his company.”

She stared at you for a moment longer, unamused, before rolling back onto her side, facing away from you. “Whatever,” she mumbled, a dismissal, like she truly thought every word that left your lips was a denial. “I think you’re just scared after what happened with Zeke. I think you know Levi is exactly what you’ve always wanted, and you don’t think he could possibly like you.”

You started to protest, maneuvering onto your elbows, but Pieck hushed you, flicked the lamp out.

“Night,” she said, signifying the end of the conversation. “Just… think on it.”

An indignant groan escaped you, as Pieck shut her eyes, her breathing evening out not a moment later. You’d always been jealous of how easily she could fall asleep, while you continued to lie awake in bed, left with nothing but your own thoughts.

Which were certainly not, and would never be, plagued by Levi Ackerman.

Unsurprisingly, Levi had been the first one awake, sitting in the kitchen as he scrolled through his phone, a pair of wired-rimmed reading glasses perched at the edge of his nose. He was already dressed, looking unsurprisingly perfect, while your hair was disheveled, pajamas still on, eyes sleepy.

You’d stared at him awkwardly, embarrassed by your appearance, and ignored his brief greeting before you slinked back into Pieck’s room, putting yourself together rapidly. You refused to speak to him until you were ready to leave.

Pieck was spending the rest of the weekend with her father, so you and Levi were left to your own devices for the day. You decided to take him around the town, showing him all the places you used to frequent. It was nostalgic, showcasing your city to a man who’d never been here, wouldn’t know the depth of your memories, those that were tied to a smell, a scene, a sound.

Levi was, to your surprise, quite interested in the places that you’d been around as a child. As usual, he asked many questions, digging into your past without offering anything in return. And, as usual, you let him, all too excited to reminisce about the grade school where you’d met Eren Jaeger, the restaurant you’d always gone to with Sasha.

It warmed you, how caring he could be — something you’d always known, but perhaps, hadn’t really paid attention to until Pieck pointed it out. Levi did seem to take everything you said to heart, store it in some memory bank with your name labeled right on it. He remembered things you hadn’t even known you’d told him, but must have, at some point.

When it neared noon, you took him to a coffee shop that you used to study at, right around the corner from your old school. It was still the same as it had been back then, like nothing had changed at all.

“It’s nice that you have such fond memories,” he said, and there was a small smile on his lips as the two of you entered the cafe, the smell overtaking you almost immediately.

You laughed, shrugging. “It’s better in hindsight.” There’d been times when all you wanted to do was leave. Now, you couldn’t help but miss it.

Levi ordered your coffees, and though you’d protested, trying to push your card in his direction, he paid for the both of them, and waited at the end of the bar while you saved a table. Once again, he’d gotten your coffee order correct, but now that you were able to read the side of his cup, you noticed it wasn’t coffee at all, but actually tea — Earl Grey, steaming, far to hot to drink when he took the lid off.

“Are you not a coffee drinker?” you asked, and for some reason, Levi seemed surprised by the question, his eyes flashing.

“Not really,” he admitted, his hands folded around the paper cup. “Sometimes, if I don’t get much sleep the night before, but—” Levi shrugged. “It makes my hands shake, which does nothing but irritate me.”

You smiled, letting the words sink in. Levi didn’t seem like the type of person to dislike coffee, but he sipped at his tea slowly, huffing as you blinked back at him.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “It’s not a crime to dislike something, is it?”

“No,” you said, looking back down at your drink, antsy. His mouth was drawn flat, unamused as always… This time, though, you couldn’t help but admire the curve of his cupid’s bow, the plushness of his lower lip, which was such a contrast to the color of his pale cheeks. “It just surprised me, is all. You never tell me anything about yourself.”

Levi’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Well, you’ve didn’t ask. You never do.”

You opened your mouth, then shut it, thinking through all the conversations you’ve had, all the questions you’ve answered, but never returned. “Usually a conversation is two-sided,” you supplied, leaning forward, accusatory. “I share things about myself, and the other person does so in return.”

Levi’s lips lifted up, nearly a smile. “I’m not really the type of person to spill my heart out unprovoked.” He took a long sip of the tea, glancing out the window at the snowy sidewalk. “If you really cared, you would ask. I won’t bother anyone with useless anecdotes about my life.”

You watched the movement of his hands as he set the cup down, fiddled with the lid beside it. “So that’s all?” you asked, unamused. “All this time, I’ve thought you were some great mystery, and you were just waiting for me to return your questions?”

Levi snorted, though there was a hint of humor in his gaze, flashing from the Christmas lights that were strung around the shop. “Don’t blame me — I’ve always been honest with you,” he supplied, matching your posture. “Maybe you’re just a poor conversationalist, and you’ve made assumptions about me that aren’t true.” Though his tone was clipped, there was still a sense of disappointment in his words.

You let his words sink in, opening your mouth, then shutting it, silencing your protests.

Levi sighed, spinning the conversation towards your evening, rehashing the plan for any questions that might arise. Though you nodded, engaged, your mind was still on his confession, the words gnawing at you.

It was true, you realized with disappointment. Levi had never avoided any questions you’d asked him outright, had always given you a small smile, before carefully answering. You had, really, been avoiding him — perhaps, for no reason at all.

That evening, you arrived at the party just a few minutes after six, when Eren had told you to arrive. Many of your friends were already there, the street lined with cars that you didn’t recognize.

Unsurprisingly, Eren was the one to answer the door, throwing it open and pulling you into a hug before you even had time to react. Your name left his lips in an excited exclamation, and you breathed in the familiarity of him, a deep-rooted nostalgia at the sight of someone you’d known for so long.

“It’s so good to see you,” Eren said, even though it had only been a few months since you’d last gotten together, not years, like it might have felt.

His hair was longer than when it had been when you last saw him, and he’d bulked up a bit, but otherwise, hadn’t changed. That was a comfort in itself, just like the smell of Carla and Grisha Jaeger’s house, the furniture that had been the same since you were an adolescent.

Eren guided you through the door before glancing over your shoulder, noticing Levi for the first time. His eyes widened, green eyes electric as your name left his lips, aghast.

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing someone!” Eren’s posture straightened, and suddenly, he was on his best behavior, trying hard to impress the man that you’d brought with you.

Levi gave him a once-over, glanced over to you, and then stuck out his hand politely. “Levi Ackerman,” he said, shaking it. “You must be Eren—”

But Eren’s attention was already caught by another part of the conversation. He shook his Levi’s quickly, not bothering to answer the greeting, before saying, “Ackerman? Maybe a long-shot, but do you know my girlfriend, Mikasa?”

Surprise flashed in Levi’s irises as he followed Eren inside, nodding. “Actually, she’s my cousin.”

At the same time, across the room, a familiar voice shouted Levi’s name, running over to throw her arms around him. Mikasa’s body rammed against Levi’s shorter frame, and despite his strength, he let out a small puff of air, shocked, as she crashed into him.

“Levi, what are you doing here?” Mikasa said, smiling softly, before releasing him, returning to her normal, calm self. “I had no idea you knew—” A pause, as she flicked her eyes between you, puzzling the pieces together. Her palms covered her mouth, but a sharp squeak emitted from her throat, excitement. “You two are together?”

You hadn’t even gotten the chance to greet her, but Mikasa held you close, her perfume so familiar, hair soft against your cheek.

“What a crazy coincidence — I had no idea… Well, of course, it makes sense. You’re so perfect for each other. I can’t believe I didn’t think of introducing you earlier.” Mikasa rambled on, uncharacteristically, and even Eren seemed surprised as he darted his gaze between you. “How did you meet?” she said.

Levi sighed, perpetually put-out, and followed Mikasa to one of the couches.

You sat with him, but stayed silent for the most part, enjoying watching them interact, smiling at the sight of him so comfortable. Levi spun the story of how you’d “ended up together,” and you offered a few nods here and there, too distracted by the revelation of their relation.

Ackerman was a common enough name that you hadn’t even thought about it, but the more you looked at them together, the more you could see their similarities. Their quiet, but confident demeanors, intellect, and grey eyes. Even the way they spoke was a bit similar. You felt like such an idiot, and when there was a break in the conversation, you said as much.

For once, though, Levi didn’t take it as an opportunity to tease you for your foolishness. “Truthfully,” he said, squeezing your hand gently, “I should’ve realized. I knew Mikasa had moved here recently, but I hadn’t been to see her, and I hadn’t met her boyfriend.”

Only later did you remember how nice his hand felt in your own — those cool, pale fingers wrapped around your hand, as if he hadn’t even had to think about it. How you’d accepted them so easily, feeling warm, calm, his fingertips against your knuckles so natural.

Mikasa and Levi seemed happy to catch up, so for the next couple of hours, you made the rounds, visiting with your old friends and the people they were now seeing. Historia and Ymir, the only high school sweethearts left in your group, had even managed to show up, even though they lived the greatest distance away from home. It had been a surprise, and you’d nearly cried when you saw them, leaping away from the table, interrupting your conversation with Jean, to get to them.

Later, you found Levi in the kitchen, a drink in his hands, as he took in the silence away from everyone.

“Everything okay?” you asked, smiling, your entire face bright as you shuffled through the cooler for your own drink. “I didn’t mean to leave you alone, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, tipping the bottle back to his lips before setting it on the counter. “I managed to meet almost everyone anyway. They seemed pretty pleased you have a boyfriend now.” His expression was completely serious, and though his face always was, it sent another round of laughter through you, the beer you’d already drank settling in.

“I hope you gave them a good impression.” You took the spot at the counter beside him, ignoring the softness of his eyes, the way they melted as he stared at you.

Had that always happened, or were you just imagining it…

No, it was definitely the beer.

“Maybe a bad impression would be best,” Levi disagreed, running his fingers across the counter, beside the spot where you rested your hip. “That would make it easier for them to accept our break-up later on.”

“Of course,” you teased, though the mention of the “breakup” that wouldn’t take place at all made disappointment seep into your core. Perhaps, over the course of just a few days, you’d come to enjoy Levi’s company.

Or, maybe, you just decided to accept that you’d always enjoyed it.

“I won’t do that, though,” he concluded. “Not when you look so happy.”

You didn’t get the chance to contemplate that before Mikasa stuck her head through the kitchen door, calling out to get your attention. “Hey.” There was a frown on her face, and she nodded back towards the front door, pointing behind herself. “Zeke’s here. Just so you know.”

You sucked in a breath, nodding, and Mikasa smiled sympathetically before going back to Eren.

For some reason, you were even less prepared to face Zeke than you thought you’d be.

“Okay?” Levi asked quietly. HIs eyebrows tugged up, towards one another, concerned.

You forced a smile, and stepped away from his embrace. “I’m fine,” you said, nodding, but you weren’t able to meet Levi’s eyes, too enraptured by the panic that had begun to claw at you. “Let’s go, better to just rip the band-aid off.”

“I’ll be out in a second.”

Although you didn’t want to walk out alone, you left Levi, heading back to the living room, where at least you’d have the protection of your vast group of friends. You considered grabbing another beer — you needed more than just one to get through the evening, but before you could protest, Sasha had whisked you away, pulling you into some ridiculous, made-up game with Jean and Connie.

For a while, you were able to avoid Zeke, until he’d caught you in pursuit of another drink, your laughter dying the moment your voice was called out in a tone you had never wanted to hear again.

“I didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

You shifted, spinning around, nails digging into your palm, your jaw clenched. The sight of Zeke standing there sent a wave of nausea over you, doubly so, when you saw the woman standing next to him.

She wasn’t the same one that you remembered with him before, the reason he’d split up with you an entire year ago. No, this one was much taller, her hair smooth and dark as it cascaded down her back. She was wearing a pair of brown, round glasses, and she was beautiful.

“I came to see Eren,” you said, eyes flitting between Zeke and his new girlfriend. She seemed just his type. Pretty, intelligent, a sense of style to match. Anything and everything he’d claimed that you were not. “I was certainly hoping to avoid you.”

“Yet, here we are,” Zeke smiled. He looked the same, exactly the same, as if time has done nothing but turn him into a worse version of himself. His eyes were a little more dull, another wrinkle around the corners, but that was the extent of it all. “This is my girlfriend, Cassandra.”

Cassandra greeted you politely, spoke in a way that was much more smooth than your own voice, her back straight. Instantly, you wondered how anyone like her could fall for someone like Zeke. Yet, you supposed you had done just that, which only proved your stupidity.

Zeke attempted to make small talk, and you smiled, awkwardly, uncomfortably, as your hands began to shake at your sides. It must have been obvious, what you were to Zeke, and you felt horrible for making Cassandra endure the formalities.

“How have you been?” Zeke asked, placing an arm around Cassandra’s shoulder to tuck her into his side. You watched the movement with disgust. “Seems like much hasn’t changed about you, has it?”

It was low, in a way that only you and Zeke could understand — and your face was burning, hot, as you looked around the room for anyone to free you from the conversation. “I’m fine,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself, close to telling Zeke to kindly fuck off for the rest of the evening. “Actually-”

“There you are,” an arm wrapped around your own waist, a hand on your side. Calm, instantly raining down upon you. “I was wondering where you’d gone.”

Levi kissed you on the temple, and for a moment, your brain short-circuited, questions rising up as you glanced over at him, mouth parted in surprise. But Levi wasn’t looking at you, too busy fixing Zeke with a bored expression, eyes flitting over him in judgement.

“You must be Zeke,” he said, and perhaps it was just your imagination, but you felt him squeeze your hip once, as if comforting you. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Zeke cracked a smile. “Good things, I hope.”

“Terrible, actually.”

That only seemed to heighten Zeke’s amusement, and he laughed, loudly. “You must be the new boyfriend.”

Levi glanced down at Zeke’s outstretched palm. “I am,” he said, but made no move to shake Zeke’s hand, ignoring the formalities. Instead, he guided you away from the couple.

For a moment, you blinked, staring out at the space where your friends were congregating, unbeknownst to the interaction in the kitchen. Then, you were relaxing into Levi’s side, the smell of his cologne lingering on his sweater, soothing you.

“I’m sorry, Levi,” you mumbled, shaking your head. “I could’ve avoided him. You didn’t have to kiss me.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “That? That was nothing.” He came around to face you, eyes scanning you for any sign of sadness. “Are you okay?”

His consideration shot warmth through every vein of your body, igniting your skin. A smile spread across your lips, and you felt dizzy with it, hating it all at the same time. “I’m okay,” you said, leaning closer, if only to remain within the space of Levi Ackerman. “I just can’t believe him. Showing up like that, and—”

“Don’t give him the fucking time of day.” Levi shook his head, for once, his seriousness not bleeding into sarcasm. “Just enjoy your time with your friends.”

You locked eyes with him, watched as his features turned tender, the cool blue of his irises lightening under his thick lashes. Swallowing, you nodded, looking away, and resumed your place close to Levi, remembering you were supposed to be selling the relationship, not making people question it.

Levi squeezed your shoulder, and you went back to talking with Mikasa and Eren, even though you were distracted by the other pair of eyes that watched you from across the room.

Zeke’s gaze was all that you could feel, even though all of your friends did their best to maintain your attention, remind you that Zeke might have been there, but it didn’t matter — not when there were so many others that cared about you.

It didn’t do much to soothe you, but your tried your best to relax, studying Levi as he spoke, the movement of his sharp jaw, the soft hair that rested over his forehead. He was wearing a soft, burgundy button-up, the sleeves tighter around his wrists, one that complemented his complexion nicely. It nearly matched your own red dress, this one a brighter shade, but still, close enough to seem as if you had planned it.

As the evening went on, the tension drained out of you, and you began to feel more comfortable under Levi’s arm.

Fleetingly, you wondered if this was what Levi was really like in a relationship. Attentive, caring, sweet. Softer towards you only, a secret smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, even if he didn’t let it show.

The thought sent a spiral of longing through you that you ignored, and you sighed, hating that you were constantly on edge. If not from Zeke, than from the way Levi was holding you close, his fingers grazing, caressing your sides.

“By the way, Levi, happy birthday,” Mikasa said, a giggly mess after a few beers. “I almost forgot!”

You made a face at Levi, your expression tied up together. “Birthday?” you asked, frowning.

He waved you off, mumbling a thanks to Mikasa, before she walked off to find another drink, one Eren insisted she didn’t need.

“Levi?” you said again, grabbing his pale wrist, your hand gripping the watch tightly. “It’s your birthday?”

“Tomorrow.” Levi cringed, looking over your shoulder, like that was the last thing he wanted to discuss.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

A horrible emotion washed over you, one that was both guilt and melancholy. Levi knew your birthday. Hange had invited him when they’d made you a birthday dinner, and Levi had brought you some flowers, a gift card to your favorite store.

You’d never even bothered to ask when his birthday was. Hadn’t even thought about it.

“I don’t really celebrate,” he shrugged, running his tongue over his cheek.

“I’m sorry — I should’ve —”

“Don’t.” Levi brushed your hair out of your face, shaking his head. The touch soothed you, his fingers so gentle on your temple. “It’s really okay. People are usually too busy with Christmas, and I don’t care much about it anyway.”

You opened your mouth to protest, Levi shook his head again, smiling. “Don’t apologize. Mikasa is the only one who knows, really. Hange knows it’s in December, but I don’t like making a big deal of it.” He sighed, pinching his temple, before looking back at you. "I promise. It doesn't matter."

Still, you couldn't help but feel horrible for not realizing, for dragging him out of town for you, when it was his birthday. “I’m sorry,” you said again, heart clenching.

Levi rolled his eyes, defensive, and moved along, tugging you forward, clearly not wanting to discuss the matter any further.

It ate at you for the rest of the evening, though, nearly distracting you from the fact that your ex-boyfriend was there at all.

You stuck with Levi for the rest of the night, but eventually, needed to use the bathroom, hoping to get back downstairs as soon as possible. Though, your plan was undermined when you opened the door, the other side revealing Zeke, leaning against the wall. His eyes raked over your body, a mix of anger and hunger as you left the bathroom, waving your hands to dry them completely.

“Zeke,” you said, ignoring the hammering in your heart, the way that your panic had spiked the moment you saw him. “What the fuck do you want?”

He laughed, though it was without humor, as he pushed away from the wall, coming towards you. You felt small under his dark gaze, the way he pinned you, so much more cruelly than Levi did. “I can’t tell if you’re actually serious, or if you’re fucking with me,” Zeke said, and it took you a moment to figure out what he was referring to, his eyes hard and narrowed under the thick lenses of his glasses. “Do you really think I believe you? Believe this act that you have going on with your boyfriend?”

You blinked back at him, momentarily at a loss for words, before you forced a laugh from your chest, spitting at him cruelly. “God, Zeke,” you said, shaking your head. “Are you so paranoid that you think I would go to that extent? I stopped caring about you a long time ago, and I’ve moved on.” You tried to push past him, blood rushing through your body; all you could think about was getting back downstairs to Levi.

“Right,” Zeke didn’t let you get far, grabbing your wrist and jerking hard. He forced you back into the wall, your shoulder hitting it with a thump. “I know you’re still not over me. You haven’t been, and we’d both be better off if you could admit that to yourself.”

You glared, prying his grip off, even if he wouldn’t let go. “Leave me alone, Zeke. I’ve never regretted anything as much as I regret you.”

“Please,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes, grazing them all over your face. Zeke had never been a good listener, had never seen eye to to eye with you, but he sure pretended to. “You wanted me for years. You loved me.”

“Maybe at some point. Not anymore.” you said through gritted teeth, tugging again, desperate almost. But Zeke didn’t let you free, his grip harder, bruising your skin. “Zeke. Get off of me. I don’t want to talk to you.”

That subtle remark served to do nothing but make him angrier. His features contorted, shoving you backwards so you were pressed against him, his knees brushing your thighs.

A flash of fear went through you, and though you didn’t want to seem like a coward, didn’t want to scream for anyone in the house to help you, you considered it. Zeke towered over you, his breath fanning over your cheeks, thumbs grazing your jaw. “I’m not an idiot,” he said, smiling, that same saccharine grin he’d given you when you were together. “I know that man downstairs isn’t really in love with you.”

“What makes your so sure that you’re right about that?”

That seemed the question he had been dying to answer all evening.

“Oh, it’s easy to spot, really. Just look at you,” Zeke said. “You were nothing without me, and you’re nothing still.” He laughed, loud and cruel, finally stepping away, giving you an escape route. “No one wanted you before, and no one wants you now… Especially not now that I’ve ruined you.” He shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets, a dismissal. “And it was so easy to do.”

Tears sprang to your eyes; breaths left you, stuttered exhales that were more than forced. “I hate you.”

“Why?” Zeke asked, curious. “I did you a favor.”

You stared at him, wondering how he could possibly believe himself to be so benevolent, to have saved you from some existence that would have been miserable, without the divine lesson he’d bestowed upon you. Though, it wasn’t long before you realized that he was taunting you, trying his best to make an embarrassment of you, laughing at the way the tears had flooded your eyes so easily.

You rushed down the stairs, holding back your sobs.

As your feet touched the bottom step, you collided with another body, turning the corner, too off-kilter to recognize who it was. “Sorry,” you said, the word coming out soft, weak. “I’m sorry, I have to—”

“Hey.” Levi’s soothing voice washed over you, his hands on your shoulders snapping you out of your distress. At first, he hadn’t realized that you were crying, the tears hidden by the palms that covered your eyes. Gently, Levi pried them away, taking your wrists in his hands, staring at you with a severe expression. “Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” you said, wiping at your face furiously; Levi was unconvinced. “I just… ran into Zeke upstairs, that's all.”

That soured his mood immediately, expression turning cold, a glare overtaking it as he understood. “Fucking asshole,” Levi ground out, teeth clenching together. “What did he say to you?”

“Levi, I said I’m fine.” But your glossy eyes revealed the opposite, the tears leaking from the corners of them only exacerbating the fact that Zeke had said something cruel. “Leave it alone.”

“Did he hurt you?” Navy eyes flicked all over your face, narrowing in concern. “What did he say, love?” It slipped from his lips, without thinking.

You stared back at him, frozen, hesitant. That sort of softness was one you’d never heard from Levi before, had never seen him so furious, yet so worried. It seemed every emotion that he had tucked away was bleeding onto his face, and you leaned into his touch, let him examine your wrists. A red ring was around it from Zeke’s heavy hand.

“I’m okay,” you promised, barely a whisper, taking your wrists back to hide them by your sides. Your lip quivered, and you looked away from Levi's concern as new wave of tears rushed over you, warming your body with despair. “He just doesn’t believe that we’re together. Said that you’d never love someone like me, anyway. That Zeke ruined me.” You shrugged, rubbing your elbows. “The usual.”

Levi clenched his fists, pushing past you. “Fuck.”

You could see the anger spelled out all over his expression, as he began his ascent up the stairs, feet heavy, infuriated.

You clutched at his sleeve. “Levi, stop. Just let it go.”

“I’m not going to let him fucking talk to you like that!” he said, and it was, nearly, the most emotion you’d ever seen out of Levi, his hands practically shaking at his sides. “He can’t just — ”

Levi grit his teeth, then shook you off, taking long strides to get to Zeke, who was leaving the bathroom just as you arrived. Although the smarter part of your brain nudged at you to stop Levi, you couldn’t help but let him play out his anger, wanting to see the look on Zeke’s face when he approached him.

The loud steps against the stairs gathered your ex-boyfriend's attention, and Zeke smiled, looking down at Levi from under his glasses, amused. Though, he didn’t get a chance to say a word before Levi had tugged him by the shirt, forced him against the wall, his gaze hard, almost scary.

Levi’s strength was almost surprising, had you not already known, but Zeke hadn’t. He glanced at Levi, then you, wide-eyed, before recovering smoothly. “Sent your guard dog after me, did you?” he asked you, a dull expression on his face.

“Don’t talk to her.” Levi snapped Zeke’s head back against the wall, forcing the taller man to look at him. “You may think you’re better than you are, but I don’t. You’re a piece of shit, and you never deserved her.” Levi said, eyes pinched, the words calm, even more serious than if he’d been shouting them. "Just stay the hell away."

“Really?” Zeke said, a smile curving onto his lips. “Or what?”

Levi stared for a minute longer, contemplative, and you sucked in a breath, wiping your eyes. You hardly registered the movement of Mikasa, who had rushed up the stairs, wrapping you up in her arms, whispering something to you that you didn't comprehend.

Before either of you could react, Levi had swung, hit Zeke square in the nose, blood trickling down not a moment later. When the blond man tried to react, swinging aimlessly, Levi ducked, and grabbed at Zeke's arm, forcing a knee into his stomach.

Zeke coughed and keeled, muttering a silent, “shit,” and a few other expletives, but not making any moves to swing again.

After he released him, Levi flexed his hand, looking over his shoulder to see you staring at him, Mikasa holding you tightly. He exhaled, sniffed back his anger, and turned.

“Levi—” you started, but he said nothing, pushing past you, his fingers running through his hair as he made his way down the stairs.

Mikasa whispered something else to you, but you wiggled out of her arms, ignoring her, as you followed after Levi. Your tears had dried, but they had, nonetheless, been obvious to everyone, who seemed to know exactly what had been going on when you walked downstairs.

Still, you didn’t meet any of their eyes, frowning, as you pushed open the door. You ignored the fact that it was below freezing outside, and you were in nothing but a jacket, when you found Levi, drawn to him light a magnet.

Flurries of snow rained down, dusting the top of Levi’s head, like little crystals against his dark hair. It was much quieter, away from the chatter, and the music, the night calm and serene, wrapping you in a blanket of comfort.

“Levi?” you said, approaching him quietly, shivering in the brisk air. It had snowed much more than you'd thought in the past few hours, coating the ground, painting a scene so perfect for Christmas Eve. Crystals of ice hung off the edge of the railing, the wind whipping the flurries around in a swirl.

Levi glanced over his shoulder, but said nothing for a moment, his breath coming out in a cold puff of air. Slowly, you came up beside him, watched as his cheeks began to tinge red from the wintery air, his hair brushing across his forehead from the wind.

“I’m sorry,” he said, blinking at the scene in front of him, as he leaned against the icy railing of the balcony. “That was a stupid thing to do. I embarrassed you in front of all of your friends.”

You paused, before a small laugh erupted from you. “Embarrassed?” you smiled, pulling on his forearm to guide his attention back to you. “Levi, no one cares. Truthfully, I’m grateful,” you admitted, retracting your hand, swallowing. “I never would’ve had the courage to do it myself.”

Levi’s eyes flashed, and he glanced over at you, conflicted. Christmas lights shimmered against the snow, dulled only by the darkness that lingered above you.

“Regardless,” he muttered, fixated on the wave of red and green. His lashes were coated in droplets of white, and your voice caught in your throat. He’d never looked so beautiful. “That was immature. I’m not — We’re not even really together.”

You laughed, the sound light and airy. “Well, surely Zeke believes us now. I think you’ve done enough to sell it, haven’t you?”

Levi sighed, dropping his gaze to the railing, his shoulders falling. “I suppose.”

Still, there was tension between you, and your stiff joke did little to diffuse it. You ran your hands up and down your own arms, feeling the goosebumps beneath them, trying to force your attention away from how cold you were.

“Zeke deserved it,” you said, quietly, shaking your head, eyebrows knit together. "You shouldn't feel bad."

“I know,” whispered back, just another exhaled of the wind. Levi didn’t move, didn’t bother to look at you, despite the fact that you were desperate to read any twitch of his expression, to get him to reveal what he was thinking.

Finally, after far too long, he glanced over, raked his eyes across your figure, the frozen posture that your body had turned to, the confusion all over your face. He frowned, dismissive. “We should go inside. You’re freezing.”

“I’m okay.”

“No—”

“Levi,” you said once more, halting him, a frowning permeating your lips. “Why did you do it?”

His face twitched. “Zeke? I told you, he has no right to—”

“No, no. Not that,” you waved him off, crossing your arms to hold them tightly to his chest. “I mean... Well, I suppose that too, but why did you come? Why would you choose to spend your birthday here, with me, of all places? Why do you even pretend to like me at all?”

Levi stared back, slowly blinking, his eyes wide, startled. Then, he started laughing, and for the first time, it was genuine. The sound left him deeply, amused, by your question.

And though, you didn’t understand, had no idea what was so funny about the sentiment, you couldn’t help but feel the warmth of his humor all the way down to your toes, the sound a battle against the brisk cold that slapped against you.

“You think I don’t like you?” Levi asked, shaking his head, laughs subsiding to a small smile.

“Well,” you said, defensive, sniffing. “Yeah. I’ve always thought that.”

“And? What do you think now?”

You remembered the small smiles you had shared, secrets almost. The way he talked with all of your friends, made an effort to see the beauty in the home you’d grown up in. The way he listened to you, took in your words and remembered them for later.

You shrugged, though it was half-hearted. “I don’t know.”

Silence fell between you, before Levi had cupped your jaw, tracing the softness of your cheeks, the hollow beneath the bone. His eyes held a sadness you didn’t understand, before he had looked past you, to the house next door, the one beyond that, and the one beyond that.

“Hange said you had no idea. I thought I’d been fairly obvious about it, all this time, but maybe I’m oblivious myself.”

“Levi,” you began, frustrated, confused by the way he touched you so gently, the way his sarcasm had subsided, and nothing remained but the gentleness between you. “I don’t—”

“I’m in love with you.”

A pause.

Another.

Slowly, your jaw fell slack. Your eyes grew wide, and you swallowed, as the sentence repeated over and over in your mind, until you could make sense of it.

Levi stepped away, clenching his jaw as he turned you, only his side profile visible. “I have been for quite a while. Hange was the one who pointed it out, and I realized…” He sighed. “Well, I realized they were right. I love you, and I thought that, maybe, if I pretended to be your boyfriend, you’d see I’m not as bad as you think. I didn’t care about spending my birthday at home because I want to be around you — I want to be around you, as often as I can. Perhaps, I'm a complete fool for that, but...” He trailed off, and though his eyes had hardened, not revealing any of the misery he felt, you could see it.

“Levi…”

“I just hope you know that whatever Zeke has planted in your mind, it isn’t true,” Levi spat, clenching his teeth. “You’re not unloveable. God, you were so easy to fall in love with, and I had no idea, that all this time, you’ve been thinking otherwise.” He sniffed, caught between sorrow and fury. “I would never have told you how I felt, but it doesn’t matter, anyway. As long as you know that what he says isn't true.”

You were still whirling from the confession, but Levi had already begun to walk off, trudging off into the house.

“Levi, wait,” you said, grasping at his arm before he could go back inside, get too far away from you. Your head was spinning, and you couldn’t think, couldn’t hear anything besides the words I’m in love with you.

And though he was frustrated, and a culmination of many other things, Levi did as you said, because he loved you; because he loved you, and he listened to you, and you had a hold over him.

Levi stopped, looking back at you, breathing deeply, waiting.

“I—” you began, but the words died there, because Levi looked so pretty with snowflakes on his lashes, and you thought of all the questions you’d never ask, and the fact that all this time, you’d wanted Levi… even if you’d been to scared to admit it.

You kissed him.

Your lips pressed against his, and though he was caught off-guard, eyes wide, he fell into it instantly, arms coming around your back to hold you close. Levi kissed you with a passion that Zeke never had, grabbing at your body like a lifeline, desperate and adoring.

Levi tasted of peppermint, smelled like tea, and felt like a home you hadn’t known since you’d been back here. Something clicked into place, your mind shifting, and your hands fisted in the back of his coat, holding onto him tight.

“You love me?” you asked in a small voice, eyes glossy from a sort of happiness you hadn’t felt in years.

Levi smiled down at you, his expression bright, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He traced your jaw, kissed your forehead, your nose, your cheeks. “I love you.” Another lingering kiss on your lips. “I’d spend all of my life showing you, if you’d let me; getting rid of all those lies Zeke planted in your head." Levi inhaled, rested his head against your own gently.

“I thought you didn’t like to date," you said, closing your eyes.

He huffed out a laugh. “I don’t.”

“Are there other women?”

“What?” Levi shook his head, amused, when you finally pried your eyes back open. You wondered if you’d ever seen him so happy; if you’d ever seen him happy at all. If, maybe, you could keep him happy forever. “No, I’m — Is that what you’ve thought of me all this time?”

Embarrassed, you dipped your head to his shoulder, warming yourself up in his embrace. He took that as yes for an answer.

“I’m not interested in dating, and I really haven’t been with many people before, contrary to what you believe,” he teased, running his fingers along your spine. “Certainly, not since I met you. Does that answer suffice?”

You ran your hands against his chest, kissing his collarbone, his neck, then along his jaw, letting every ounce of your affection seep into it. “I don’t want you to see anyone else,” you admitted, looking at him from under your lashes, remembering exactly what Zeke had done to you, at exactly the same time that he did.

“I won’t, my love,” Levi swore, kissing you once more, sweet and wonderful in the snowy Christmas Eve.

"And, maybe," you began shyly, playing with the buttons of his deep maroon shirt. "We can start fresh tomorrow. I don't know enough about you, Levi Ackerman," you said, frowning, a wrinkle forming between your eye. "But I'd like to."

Levi relaxed, shifting into a version of himself that so few would ever get to see, sweet and caring, with eyes so soft. He smiled. "I can't think of a better way to spend my birthday."

જ⁀➴ REBLOGS APPRECIATED !

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charnelhouse · 2 years

Text

safe house

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader Wordcount: 3.1k Warnings: semi public sex. rough smut. pain kink. size difference. ghost is a simp. sex on a couch. cum play Summary: “Kid,” he husks. “I wouldn’t give a shit if they all came in and watched.” Simon 'Ghost' Riley Masterlist

Of all the risky shit you've participated in, deciding to sit with Ghost post-mission takes the cake. Things just happen. Out of your control.

You can't not listen to him.

Even your teammates give you nervous glances when Simon barks at you to come see him for a "debrief."

You're screwed, lass.

Eat a dick, Soap.

So here you are, forced to brush shoulders with your hulking lieutenant while the others shower or scrape cold chili out of cans in the tiny safe house kitchen.

Everything is secure.

Ghost smells like fireworks. There’s snow still melting in his boots. He’s managed to remove all his gear aside from his gun on the coffee table, but he’s just as enormous. Burly. Rippling with that animal aggression, he can’t shake off after a mission.

“You should shower,” you suggest sweetly. You’d gotten first dibs, but you’d been unable to scrape off the blood wedged under your fingernails and mud crusted to your hairline like sea barnacles. You feel dirty, as if the job had left you withered and full of dust. There’s the particular flavor of guilt clinging to the underside of your mouth.

“You didn’t listen to a direct order,” Ghost utters in a voice so quiet it could flicker into smoke. He was screaming at you earlier, demanding that you return to him instead of toward the USB drive with the intel. Red Fox. You take one more bloody step, and I’ll suspend your ass.

“It would have been for nothing had we not gotten it,” you protest. Deny. Deny. Double down. Invent excuses, even though the scariest man alive is speaking to you like he may just break your neck.

He shifts on the couch. The sounds of your teammates seem very far away, although they’re only in the next room. Simon is angry, and it’s not the familiar hot-headed fury he favors. No. It’s chilling. He’s holding himself back. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his gloveless fingers curl around the edge of the couch. They’re enormous hands. They can wrap entirely around your bicep, the nape of your neck, or the crown of your skull.

He leans back, thighs spread open, stealing space and shoving you toward the end of the couch without even moving a muscle.

“I’m sorry,” you offer rather pathetically. Your voice is audibly weary, utterly subservient. Ghost runs a tight fucking ship, and everything can collapse if you step a hair out of line.

He presses his arm against yours, lowering his head closer to your ear. “I don’t give a fuck.”

His hand finds your hip, and before you realize it, he’s got one arm banded around your chest while keeping you pinned to his front. Hee slides behind you until you’re both horizontal, your legs tangled together, his covered mouth puffing warm air against your jaw. You could be spooning if his embrace wasn’t so carved with aggression.

“You know it’s not about bloody fuckin’ orders,” he growls as he shoves your sweats down your thighs.

“Wha-”

You choke on a gasp as the muscular forearm around your cotton-covered tits squeezes, sealing you into him until you can’t budge an inch. You can hear him fumbling with the button on his pants. There’s blood on his boots. The denim and his sweatshirt irritate your bare skin. You’re damp from your shower, and he’s coated in a thin film of battle. “Simon,” you warn. “They’ll - they’ll come in.”

Unbothered, he continues, and you can feel him, heavy and hot against your lower back. “What did I tell you?” he mutters into your hair. “Before we left...when I had you on your knees?”

Your mind is sprinting on overdrive. The blood rushing under your skin is flaring to an almost unbearable heat. Yesterday morning? You’d snuck into the bathroom with Simon...gotten on the cold tile floor, and sucked him off until he’d nearly punched a hole in the cheap plaster wall. He’d been surprised. It’s not like you hadn’t screwed before, but anytime you ever gave him pleasure when it was only about him, he’d get totally weird.

Like he didn’t deserve it even though he -

Without warning, he breaches you with a thick finger. You bite down on your lower lip, swallowing a grunt. Your sweats are caught around your knees, and his tree trunks for legs spread you open and stretched like you’re latched into an intricate web. He lazily thrusts into your soaked cunt, drawing his finger out to the tip before sinking it back to the knuckle.

“Jesus, Riley,” you moan, and the arm across your breasts lifts just enough so he can cover your mouth with his hand.

“What did I say, love?”

Your brain isn’t working. Your entire focus has narrowed to the overwhelming sensation of him finger-fucking you from behind. It is a rare show on his part. It’s risky, but Simon Riley is a super soldier, and his hyper-fixation is now firmly on the task of ruining you.

He lowers the hand from your lips to allow you to speak.

“Swallow it?” you try, and he pauses before an unsettling, baritone noise reverberates within his massive chest and he withdraws his finger only to bury two inside you.

You jerk, keeping silent but dangerously on the brink of a damn orgasm. You’re drenched, and Ghost’s slow, drawn-out movements squelch with every perfunctory pump of his hand.

You can feel the hard shell of his mask against the crown of your head. “You’re going to be the death of me, kid,” Ghost sighs.

He sounds...exasperated. Perhaps, you had, admittedly, fucked up. You shouldn’t have done it. You should have listened to him. Escape had been narrow and made even more narrow by you wasting precious seconds to grab the intel. Even if Ghost had the countenance of a bull shark, he cared more than most. He was staunchly loyal. He wouldn’t lose people under his watch.

But you aren’t just people.

Fuck buddy? Sure.

More than that?

You weren’t entirely oblivious to how he touched you outside their secret trysts. His gaze lingered, his presence curled around you like an oversized shadow.

What had he said yesterday morning?

“Stay alive,” he husked as his palm enveloped the top of your skull, those sleepy, ink-filled eyes searching yours. His thumb traced your cheek as you rested the side of your face against his thigh. The salt of him coated your throat, the nape of your neck still tingled from his iron grip when he finished in your mouth. “Please.”

Gingerly, you tug an arm free to grasp the hand silencing you. You pull it away, and Ghost, Simon, allows it. Shooting him a desperate, aching glance over your shoulder, you press your lips to his fingertips. “I’m sorry,” you repeat. “I’ll stay alive for you.”

You give his words back, hoping it’s enough.

See? I was listening. I was listening as you throat-fucked me.

Pleased, he murmurs your name as he presses closer before you force two of his fingers into your mouth and suck. He goes rigid, and the other set of fingers inside you become still as if he’s trying to assess this startling development and figure out the next strategy. It is only a moment, a few seconds, and then he draws away from your cunt to grasp the underside of your thigh. He eases it up before shifting his hips forward, and there he is: his thick, unforgiving length crudely gliding through your folds. The pleasure comes in bursts. Tiny pricks. Stars. Each time the head of his cock grazes your clit, it sends sparks unfurling in your belly. You shove your ass back into him, demanding and needy.

You started this, you want to say when you know he’d turn it around with: You did when you didn’t fucking listen.

His hand returns to your hip, his thumb rubbing small, tight circles into the flesh. “Desperate, are we?” His voice is rough - all gravel and artillery smoke and so low it sweeps like a tongue against the seam of your pussy. “I thought you were scared the others would see us?”

You release his fingers with a slick pop, and he, once again, wraps his forearm around your chest in order to anchor you to him. You can just imagine the scene the team would walk in on.

Ghost, fully clothed, with his tattooed arm snug around your tits. You’re in a flimsy tank top with your sweats tangled around your knees. His mask-covered face is notched over your shoulder. To anyone, he’d look untouched while you were ruined. Bare thighs glistening with your own arousal. Humiliating.

“Do you care?”

He chuckles, and it vibrates against your back. “Kid,” he husks. “I wouldn’t give a shit if they all came in and watched.”

You shiver, involuntarily clenching around nothing. “Right,” you croak as you feel his hips draw back again, the fingers holding your thigh in the air, are digging into your skin. Blunt nails. Dirt. “Because...because then they’d know I’m yours.”

That must do something to him because he sucks in a breath and suddenly, without hesitation, slides into you until his groin is nestled against your ass. You black-out. Your vision swims and blurs until you can’t distinguish between the dark fireplace and the shitty armchairs. His cock is too big. That’s a stone-cold fact. The first time he’d fucked you had been more than a challenge. He’d prepared you with his tongue, fingers, spit and lube you filched from Soap, but it had still been difficult.

He’s breathing steadily as his heart thumps against your back. His hand falls to your stomach, where he can, undoubtedly, feel the head of his cock nudging one of your internal organs. You feel full - crammed to the brim and feverish. Sweat collects at your hairline as you endure the pressure of him inside you. The girth. The weight. Every time Ghost fucks you, it’s a lesson in endurance. He can go for hours, and you take it like his well-trained soldier. The two of you are an HR nightmare.

You squeak when Ghost presses his balaclava-covered mouth to your neck. “Good girl,” he soothes, clucking his tongue. “Good girl...just take it like you are. Fuckin’ perfect.”

Well-endowed fuck.

It’s only painful in a good way. Your body accommodates him, allowing him to squeeze an inch deeper as his hand slides down from your belly to your clit. He presses it gently before drawing circles. He retreats, his cock dragging through your walls until he’s halfway out before he plunges back in. The pace is unhurried. He’s grinding into you as if he’s savoring every part of your pussy. He cups your tits, grasps your throat, and explores the sensitive flesh stretched around his enormous shaft.

You’re never having anal.

Unless he asked really nicely.

“I want to mark you,” he muses through long, deliberate strokes. “If I come in that lovely cunt, you’d keep me in there, yeah?”

“Of course,” you reply immediately, even though you sound like you’ve been drowned and spit back onto the beach. You’re so sick with him, overwhelmed and a little in love and how did this fucking happen? “Anything you want, Luitenant.”

He delivers a sharper thrust that nearly propels you off the couch, but his grasp on your waist is unforgivable. His strength. His presence. He smells like sweat and packed dirt and a forest fire. “You’re bloody obedient when I’ve got my cock in you.”

Obviously.

“I know,” you murmur as you bite your lip again when he strikes something tender. He’s rubbing your clit in time with every snap of his hips, dick pistoning inside you as your lower muscles buckle, your thighs quivering as your pleasure hangs precariously over a steep drop. His legs wedge yours open, keeping your cunt spread as he manipulates your body like one of his precious guns. If I move this, what will this do? Let me make it better.

“I’m so - so fucking easy,” you slur.

“No,” he grits as his pelvis begins to stutter against your ass, his breathing ragged. “No, you’re the most difficult thing I’ve ever had beneath me - ever - ever had to fuckin’ handle.”

God - that has double meanings. You’re his subordinate. You’re his lover. You’re on your knees for him, but it goes both ways. It had been Ghost who had turned the lights off the first time and removed his mask. He’d trusted you enough to shut your eyes and let him lick your pussy until you were in tears.

I wouldn’t look, Riley. That’s something I won’t take unless you give it.

You had felt his face, though. In the pitch blank, you had touched his full lips, the defined lines of his cheekbones. You’d felt his thick, silky hair and the bumps of various scars.

You feel sexy.

You’re trying to butter me up.

The sounds from the kitchen startle you. The men are taunting each other. A pan clatters. The volume turns up, and you suddenly realize that you and Ghost are making quite a bit of noise. The couch is creaking. Your cunt indecently squelches with every spear of his cock. He’s grunting into your hair, the skin at his groin smacking the full flesh of your ass as he bottoms out.

“They’re going to hear us,” you warn. You’re on the cusp of exploding, breaking into fragments.

“They probably already do,” he quips before fucking you harder. Your hand flies up to clutch at his burly forearm, your other hand rises higher to grasp the back of his head. You want his hair, you want to fist it and hurt him just a little. “Easy, love,” he urges. “Relax...relax...you’re getting too tense.”

He’s right. Your orgasm has fluttered away because now you’re fully aware that your teammates have probably created a racket to drown out their Lieutenant, their stiff, cold enigma of a Lieutenant, railing their comrade into the couch.

“Focus, kid,” he orders bluntly as if he was chastising you on a mission. He ducks his head and nuzzles your cheek to coax you back into his fold. “They won’t come in,” he drawls in a low, piercing rumble. “They won’t say a goddamn word because they know I’d murder every one of them if they tried ripping me away from this cunt.”

Holy. Fuck.

Everything has climbed up your throat. Your head is on backward. The pressure of his cock, his fingers on your clit, and his massive body wrapped around your own is causing the air to crackle.

“Simon,” you gasp as he readjusts his grip and forces you forward. He shifts his hips so he’s thrusting down, and it’s impossible to know when he’ll be done. He rides your ass until his pace falters and his cock twitches and throbs before he abruptly settles, douses out the fire, and continues at a more even, lazy rhythm.

“I need you to come for me, darling,” he encourages softly. It’s dipped in a tenderness that surprises you. His voice remains deep and gruff, but there’s a gentleness behind it. You’ve never seen his face, and the intimacy with which he handles you is nothing you have ever experienced. It is too much.

Ghost gives you his history in patches. There are brief moments where finishes and rolls off you, and you both just stare at the ceiling, fingers brushing in the dark. “There’s this pub by the Irwell that I think you’d fancy,” he remarks. “Jesus knows if it’s still around, but I reckon you’d like it.”

It’s not just sex. This is not just sex at all.

Stay alive.

Please.

You know it’s not about bloody fuckin’ orders.

Simon is coaxing you into your climax. He’s buried so deep that you can feel the tip of him nudge against your womb. You feel swollen and raw, and his muscles twitch against you. You’re throbbing like an open wound as he maneuvers your ragdoll body on his cock. It should be overwhelming, but his fearsome rough voice is full of yearning when he motivates you to find your pleasure.

The tang of your climax builds until there’s nowhere else for it to go. It roars forward, jolting through your limbs as it forces you to curl into a fetal position, but Simon is right there. He holds you in place, his mask grazing your cheek. “C’mon, love,” he says. “That’s it. Good girl.”

As his palm clamps over your mouth, you erupt, and you bathe his cock in your climax. Hot and flooded as the punch of a tropical storm. “Bite me,” Ghost demands, instinctively thrusting into your soaked, fluttering heat. “Do what you need, love. Take it out on me.”

He groans when your teeth nip his palm. You bite harder, and he nearly chokes.

You don’t understand how this has gone from him enraged to riding you to a full gallop to allowing you to use him for your own pleasure. As he fucks you through it, jamming into the searing, wet clutch of your spasming sex, he hits his end. His hands on you tighten as he makes a deep, grating noise from his chest, filling you up. It’s warm and somewhat soothing. Shuddering, Ghost has to brace his arm on the couch to keep himself from collapsing on top of you.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters as he buries his face into your neck. “Jesus.”

He slips out, and there is only emptiness. You’re aching and sore, and he pets at your cunt, pressing his come deeper so it doesn’t drip. You shift onto your side to face him, his hand still nestled against your pussy, his eyes black and heavy-lidded as they regard you with subtle affection.

“Keep me in there,” he reminds you.

Hesitantly, you snag the edge of his black ski mask and slowly lift it. He stops breathing, his heart beginning to thump wildly as his gaze widens. However, he doesn’t stop you, and it’s a test you predicted.

“Red,” he warns. Your call sign. The bite of his authority rippling between you.

You hitch the mask just a centimeter above his top lip. You sit up awkwardly, your sweats still knotted around your knees, your lower half gone to jello. You grasp his stubbled jaw and kiss him tenderly. He stiffens, making a startled noise in the back of his throat before he decidedly returns it, licking into the cavern of your mouth as he forces you onto your back and wedges himself between your legs. The pointed edge of his skull mask digs into the top of your cheek, but you’re past caring. You can feel his cock filling against the crease of your thigh.

Again? You can’t go again. You’d surely split in half.

“Don’t worry,” he says as if he can read your mind. “I just want this.”

Just this. The couch, the safe house, and their teammates only a room away.

He breathes against your mouth, the sliver of his secret skin scratching your own. You nudge your thumb along a scar and kiss him harder.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley imagine #cod mwii #cod mw22 #cod mw fanfiction #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley x female reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #modern warefare 2

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mybelovedrin · 1 year

Text

✷ ITOSHI RIN x reader. fluff, established relationship. reader talks a lot and rin listens. this is actually pointless. warnings: the writing is kinda messy, i think. note: i just really think that rin <3 ! sorry if there's typos.

"shut up."

rin probably says these two words to you more than he says 'i love you'.

yet, he really, really does not want you to shut up.

it's been twenty minutes since you came from your dinner with your friend. twenty whole minutes of you rambling. twenty whole minutes of rin lying in bed, his arms feeling empty since you're too busy turned away from him as you change into more comfortable clothes. twenty whole minutes of him having to listen to your friend's husband's family's problems while his eyes stay locked on you as you throw on one of his shirts and then start removing your make up.

and again, he really, really does not want you to shut up.

but he would really prefer holding you while you ramble, and the fact that it's been twenty minutes and he hasn't even gotten a kiss yet is kind of starting to get to him.

"so anyway, she's basically hated by everyone from his side of the family— and i told her over and over that she should talk to him about it, but she just won't listen to me. god, why am i blessed with such stubborn friends?"

at this point, he feels like he's skipped eight chapters.

and yet he still listens, humming thoughtfully as he shifts in bed a little, pulling the covers over him just a bit more as he sighs in defeat, staring up at the ceiling as he mumbles, giving his own opinion. "shouldn't pressure her into it, though."

you groan, giving him a look as you still stand in front of the mirror while doing your skincare now. "i'm not, i swear! those people suck. she shouldn't be letting them do what they want and i'm sure that her husband would do something if he knew how salty they are."

his eyes go from the ceiling to you, blinking sleepily as he stares at the way his shirt looks on you. "when are you coming to bed?"

"almost done, rinnie."

he yawns quietly, turning around so that his back is to you. if he couldn't hold you yet, he could at least listen to your voice. "then does she really plan to just endure that treatment?" his voice is muffled by the pillow as he asks, setting you off on another talking spree.

"i guess she does. i hope everything goes well for her. but personally, i would not tolerate stuff like that." you say, shrugging as you finally finish your business, before going into the bathroom to wash your hands and brush your teeth.

the few minutes of you being gone and quiet make rin feel as miserable as ever.

he waits and waits, eyelids heavy.

when the mattress finally dips next to him and he smells the familiar scent of your skin products, he swears he's never moved this fast to turn around in bed and latch onto you.

you chuckle as he buries his face into your neck, holding him close as your little giggle turns into a quiet laugh when he groans in annoyance. "you took too damn long."

his hair tickles the side of your face. it's getting longer, you realise as you play with it gently, smoothing over some soft strands on the back of his head while he sighs softly into your skin.

"i talked a lot earlier, didn't i?" you ask quietly, your lips curling into a sheepish smile.

rin stays quiet for some time, his arms around you tight and firm as he presses himself against your side, even going as far as to place his muscular leg over you, caging you in against the soft mattress of the bed. "y'know i don't mind that."

"yeah, but im sure there's a limit—"

"there's no limit when it comes to you. 'kay?" he says quietly, his voice groggy and deeper now as he gets closer to drifting off— almost as if he was ending that discussion right there, not wanting to hear you talking about yourself in such a way.

"yeah, but—"

"shut up." he cuts you off, and you stop talking, only to let out another soft laugh. "if you're gonna complain about yourself, that is. now, more sleeping and less talking. i'll listen to the remaining part of your friend's story during breakfast tomorrow."

you snort at his devotion to listening to your silly stories, a slight wave of warmth creeping up your neck. "fine."

he nods a little, before holding you tighter.

"and i didn't get a single kiss from you ever since you came, by the way."

"oh, i am so sorry. my most sincere apologies." you speak, clearly joking as you shower him with light pecks on the side of his face that's peeking out from the crook of your neck.

he grunts, not being able to hide the redness under his warm skin as he feels your soft lips. his eyes stay closed shut. "ok. good night."

"no 'i love you' or anything?"

he sighs heavily. "shut up."

"...and i love you." he adds, before letting himself relax into his sleep when you let out a satisfied sound and say it back to him sweetly, your soft voice partially responsible for putting him to sleep.

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florencemtrash · 2 months

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The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Epilogue

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: This is the end 😭

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

SIX YEARS LATER

While the others were busy dragging themselves out of bed in time to the Day Court’s breathings, you and Azriel were already wide awake and watching as the sun trickled down the windows and onto the floor.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent. Have I changed your mind at all?

Your mate smiled at the sound of your voice in his mind. He almost preferred it to speaking out loud where curious ears might be listening. Cassian loved to tease you about it endlessly.

“You’re worse than Feyre and Rhys,” He would lament, “Will we ever hear your voices again?”

Hmmmmmmmm. Azriel considered your question. I’m afraid not, my love. I shall remain a creature of the night forever, no matter if I am married and mated to you.

You wake up earlier than me most mornings.

Just because it’s true doesn’t mean I enjoy it.

You blew against his hair playfully and laughed when his shadows were whisked away like leaves in the wind.

“My Lord.” The attendant curtsied. Her cream-colored robes kissed the floor as she carried your dress in her arms. Her cheeks were rosy with excitement. Eyes glittering with joy.

There were three others behind her. One male carried Azriel’s crowning suit and the two females held boxes made from pearl and gold.

“I hope you’ve slept well. We’ve come to prepare you and Lady Y/n for today’s events. If you would so kindly follow Arryn.”

The male bowed low in introduction, and it took all his court training to keep him from jumping back when Azriel’s shadows crawled over his shoes in curiosity.

Azriel looked back to where you sat in front of the vanity brushing the tangles from your freshly washed hair. One small shake of your head was all he needed to see before turning to the attendants.

“I’m afraid your services won’t be necessary,” Azriel said apologetically.

Her joyful eyes fell. She had been looking forward to helping you dress. It wasn’t every day that a Court could enjoy a formal crowning ceremony, and even rarer that a High Lord should claim his heirs with so much love.

She didn’t protest when shadows came to carry your clothes inside, but one of the other attendants did perk up with concern to mention, “But Our Lady’s hair! Surely she will need some assistance.” She looked on hopefully, clutching her pearl box a little closer to her chest.

Azriel smiled kindly. “I’ll send for help if needed. I promise.”

With the hope of that promise lingering in the air, the attendants bowed and departed, taking slow steps in case either you or your mate should change your minds at the last second. They were severely disappointed when you didn’t.

Perhaps we should have let them stay. You said. Azriel carefully laid out the boxes of jewels and gold, each piece shining with the light of a hundred suns. They looked so excited.

Azriel pressed his thumb beneath your chin, fingers ghosting over your throat as he tilted your neck back to look at him. Hazel eyes flashed in the early morning sunlight and his lips were warm against yours, sweet like honey and bergamot.

Perhaps. Azriel hummed. But today, I want the honor of attending the Darling of Day.

Is that what people are calling me?

I’ve heard rumors. He brushed his lips against your neck. And I have it on good authority that the rumors are true.

Shadows curled in answer to your raised eyebrow.

And attend to you he did. He braided your hair, securing the front pieces away from your face with pins made of starlight and sunbeams. His heart stuttered when he imagined how radiant you would look after your father laid a circlet of gold over your brow.

He laced up your dress, spreading kisses along the back of your neck and sending shivers down your spine. Then he knelt to the floor to clasp your white silk shoes. The drag of his fingers up your calf had you smiling as he tied the final bow.

Another time, my love. You told him, pulling Azriel up with the daintiest grip on his chin.

He pressed a kiss to your palm and the corners of his lips pulled up in a smile. What a shame. He nipped at your fingers. I’ll hold you to that promise.

I would expect nothing less.

Azriel was quick to pull on his Day Court attire and refused to let you take your time with him the way he had done for you.

You snatched the Day Court pin from the vanity before Azriel could—a circular sunbeam with a sword, pen, and iris stalk crossed in the center.

Let me do this! Just this!

Your stubbornness showed when you climbed onto the bed and did your best to hold the pin out of reach.

I’m not about to be crowned an heir. He reminded you, holding onto your waist protectively.

But you will be beside me when it happens. You must look presentable.

Don’t I always, my love?

Careful. You’re beginning to sound like Rhysand.

He lifted you up and off the bed with ease. Carefully, reverently, you pinned the gold piece to his coat. Just above his heart.

He liked to pretend things like this didn’t affect him, but he was grinning like a fool as he finished buttoning the sleeves of his coat. Black velvet lined with gold and silver cut out his strong silhouette. And after little persuasion, he let you crawl into his lap and paint the corners of his eyes with gold and black.

“Y/n!” Elain called your name from down the hall. Pale gold sleeves bubbled off her shoulders, light and airy as she hugged you close. “Oh you look lovely.”

“As do you. Not that that’s anything new.”

She brightened faster than a flower in spring. Lucien wrapped his arm tightly around Elain’s waist, ring flashing on his finger.

“We thought you’d never arrive.” Lucien said. Folds of pale-golden fabric lay draped across his chest. A pattern of Spring and Autumn leaves trailed along the selvage. “Were you preoccupied?”

“Oh hush.” You slapped your brother’s arm.

You and Azriel were the darker mirrors of Elain and Lucien as you lined up beside one another behind the gilded doors. On the other side were hundreds of the Day Court’s most prestigious families, scholars, and courtiers, and the odd High Lord or two.

Helion’s voice cut through the chatter, laughter ringing through every word.

“Are you ready?” Lucien asked from your left. You took your brother’s arm, some of Azriel’s shadows winding down your hand like jewels.

“As ready as I’ll ever be. And you?”

“I am. I’m ready.” He squared his shoulders back. This was it. For the first time in decades, he would be a recognized member of his family — his true family. He would wander no more. “Thank you, Y/n. For everything.”

The trumpets began to blare. The crowd’s talk dimmed to a low, excited murmur. Years ago, the sound of so many people would have sent shivers crawling down your spine like spider legs.

No more.

Azriel slipped his hand into yours and squeezed once, twice, before the doors opened and the crowd burst apart like fireworks at the sight of the new heirs of Day.

The crown did not lay heavy against Lucien’s brow as he charmed courtiers with an energy that had everyone wondering how they could have missed the truth about Helion’s son. He was everything a High Lord’s son should be—polite, kind, and charming to an almost lethal degree. He took after his father in his mannerisms… mannerisms Helion had been stripped of the moment Aurora Vanserra walked into the room on her eldest son’s arm.

You shot Lucien a look, and a look was all he needed before he was steering Helion towards the scarlet-crowned pair.

“Lucien!” Helion pulled back in alarm.

“Shhhhhh.”

“Y/n—” Your father looked to you for aid, eyes wider than a deer at the wrong end of an arrow.

You and Azriel waved him goodbye.

Helion’s stomach was a lead weight dragging behind him as he crossed the marble dance floor.

Aurora Vanserra flickered like candlelight behind a window. Something for Helion to gaze upon but never touch. Something to love from a safe distance so he could never snuff out that previous light.

Red hair cascaded down her back in braids laced with gold and emeralds. When she turned around and looked upon the face of her lover, Helion felt a familiar fist around his heart squeeze a little tighter. Mercifully, she looked just as flustered to see him. Although she looked a great deal more graceful when hiding her emotions. She’d always been good at that.

“Helion.” His name was a breath from her lungs.

“Aurora. Hi.”

Helion had hoped the years might fall away. That the walls they’d both placed around themselves as protection might shatter at the gentlest tapping of his fingers. Alas, time was more stubborn than that and it would not break. But that did not mean it would not bend.

You, Lucien, and Eris both watched carefully from your corners of the room as Helion quietly took Aurora out onto the balcony for some peace and quiet.

Lucien worried that he’d made a grave error. Some miscalculation of hope. But then he saw his mother smile — the first true smile he’d seen in years — and suddenly the weight around his shoulders seemed to shrink.

Helion and Aurora Vanserra stayed on the balcony all night, hands dancing closer and closer together but never quite touching. Lucien and Elain made their rounds through the crowds, feeling at ease at each other’s sides as they kissed cheeks and sprinkled hope throughout the Day Court.

And there, tucked away into the little alcove just left of the quartet’s humble stage, stood a Shadowsinger and Inkbird resplendent in black and gold. Heads bowed together. Hands touching. And smiles on their lips as they spoke without a whisper of sound between them.

<- Previous Chapter

______________

Author's Note:

WE ARE DONNEEEEEE!!!! Don't mind me while I go cry in the corner now. Final word count was over 130K which is the most intensive writing project I've ever worked on AND COMPLETED!

I truly cannot thank you all enough for reading this story. Whether you were there from its very beginnings in December of 2023 or whether you stumbled upon this story more recently and got to binge read it all at once, I want to thank the writing/reading community for inspiring me to continue. There were multiple instances where I had to take short and long writing breaks and worried I had lost my passion, but seeing your comments and inbox messages or even seeing your little handles pop up in my activities section was a little extra gas poured into my tank so I could keep on going.

I think I'm going to take a little bit of time off (but this time it's planned lol) to get back into reading and to work on other writing projects (and also finally upload stuff to AO3 like I've been meaning to for the past month). So, I will be back soon with more writing stuff (but also don't worry I am always lurking on this app in some way shape or form).

Thank you all once again! Now that this is finished, I would appreciate reblogs so people know it's finished and ready to read, but also no pressure at all! 😊

Love,

Florence Byrne

#the shadowsinger and the inkbird #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader slowburn #acotar #azriel x reader angst

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byeolbeloved · 7 months

Text

This one is mine

pairing ➛ stalker!sheriff!yunho × reader

genre & warnings ➛ enemies to lovers, yunho is a stalker, smut smut smut, dom!Yunho, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

summary ➛ Moving away from your hometown to escape your collage stalker, you start a new life, exploring the new feeling of being a free woman in the city. However, after a messy situation at the club you are back to where you were years ago, unable to escape him.

"No law will be able to take me away from you"

“This is good for me jen” you yell out from the other room so your friend can still hear you through facetime as you bring two pairs of earrings to your face to see which pair would match better with your fit.

“Yeah yeah I know and I’m glad you’re trying out new experiences but try not to jump into things so quickly yeah? City life is very different from here Y/N, especially when it comes to partying.”

City life was a drastic change from your hometown. You went from knowing everyone from your street and practically growing up with your neighbours and their kids to now rushing down the bustling loud streets of everyone minding their own business. You admit it was an overwhelming change, especially since you’ve never been much of a people-person. Large crowds of people were never you thing. However, after graduating from college, you wanted a change. To experience something new other than being a people-pleasing goody two shoes and to finally start doing things for yourself and connecting with your needs.

Or at least that was what you told people when they’d ask you why you decided to switch to city life. The dark truth was you needed to escape him. Him and his tall figure that shadowed behind you. His chocolaty soft hair that complimented his milky skin. Those eyes that looked so pure but you knew so well they weren't.

Jeong Yunho.

The man who was so obsessed with breaking you.

“I’m going to be in safe hands jen. David and alexa are really nice” you said with a smile posing for her in front of the camera “how do I look?”

“Drop dead gorgeous babe let me know how many guys drool over you” you giggled at her response. You were wearing a black spaghetti strap silk dress that hugged your body frame perfectly. Your hair was curled and your makeup wasn’t too heavy but complemented your facial features. You didn’t have much experience with clubbing but David and Alexa took you to a few bars with a similar atmosphere to a club, it was their way of slowly introducing you to club life. You met Alexa at the coffee shop she works at that happens to be by your house. You went there regularly for breakfast and that's how you two started talking. Shortly after she introduced you to David, they’ve been friends since middle school.

For your first time clubbing, you were actually having a lot of fun. You thought you’d feel overwhelmed as the flashing lights and loud music first made you feel slightly anxious when you first stepped in the club. However, just as David told you, after a few shots, you let loose- enough to get you on the dance floor.

You 3 years ago would have found dancing at the club cringe. You never understood the fun of jumping around sweaty crowds with loud music. You would have rather listened to your music through your headphones on the bus home- maybe even imagining a little scenario in your head matching the type of song you were listening to. But the adrenaline you felt as the loud music vibrated through you, making you feel it shaking your heart, the crowd yelling an “o” as the beat was about to drop and most importantly, Davids really bad dancing- it was the most fun you have had in a while.

However the night didn’t last too long. It was only 11pm, which to you would have been way past your curfew, however you were made sure that 1am is “demon time” as Alexa told you many times before coming to this club how she wouldn’t allow you to leave any earlier than 3am. People were advising one another to leave the club as apparently police came in and found illegal substances that someone sneaked in.

“Y/N follow me I know a back door we can go out from” Alexa said raising her voice a little since the music was still loud.

“What about David?” by the time whispers were set out David had left in a rush. “He’s going to get some other people, don’t worry about him, he'll text us when he’s out” she said, now leading the way to the back door.

But as you were trying to keep up with her, people kept getting in your way, causing you to lose her in the blink of an eye. You tried to keep pushing forward in hopes of reaching a wall and finding a door, or any door to get into so you can quietly pull out your phone to text Alexa as you were scared you’d end up losing your phone in the crowd too. However, you felt a hand grasp your wrist and when you turned around your heart sank.

Jeong Yunho.

What was he doing here? Your thought was cut off as you glance down from his face only to see him in police uniform but not just any police uniform. You look at his chest to see a sheriff badge. He was the sheriff? And out of all places… here? You knew instantly this was no coincidence. Stalker Yunho never stopped stalking you. Even after running away.

“You wanna bring her in Jeong?” a voice sets you out of your thoughts, looking over to see it belonging to a cherry red haired man, shorter than Yunho. He was also wearing a police uniform, must be his partner.

Glancing at his partner then back at you, this time clicking his tongue to the side of his cheek with a slight smirk on his lips, he eyed you up and down, eyes resting on your chest for a few seconds he said “Yeah, this one is mine.”

They shared a few other words but you didn’t pay attention. Your eyes were glued on Yunho, you were sure you looked dumb right now with your mouth open and probably lost colour from your face but what the hell. You couldn’t believe he still managed to follow you after your big move that felt so right.

You were mad. You wanted to rip that smug look on his face off. But as always, you also felt small. Especially with his hand still grasping your wrist. Your body didn’t react to move it away. You felt a slight heat sensation running down your core. This is the effect Jeong Yunho had on you.

“Have a good one sheriff!” his partner says. Anxiety flushes through your chest as you realise this is his time he’s going to finally have you to himself. Again. Like always.

Pushing you through the crowd, you realise his hand never left yours. His grip on you was actually soft and gentle. Gentle enough for you to easily break free from his grasp. But he knew you wouldn’t. Which is why he confidently held you with that grip. As he’s pushing through the crowd, his back is facing you and you take in his figure. He has definitely grown, not only in height but also in his physique. His shoulders seem bigger and broader. You can deny he looks damn good in his uniform too.

You’re now in his car. Words have not been exchanged yet. Until he breaks the silence with a chuckle. You nervously look at him, confused as to what could be so funny right now while you’re sitting over here about to piss your pants in fear.

“You’ve seemed to adjust well here Y/N” god hearing him say your name sends shivers down your spine every time. The way your name falls out of his mouth almost feels as if he’s cursing you with a spell.

“Good choice with those earrings, the others seemed too tacky” he leans into your ear and whispers. You freeze.

What.

“You know where I live?” your voice sounded weaker than how you wanted it to come out, cursing in your head knowing he’s probably getting excited from that.

He lets out a laugh. “Oh Y/N, you’ve known me for all those years yet you’re surprised. I will say though, I was a bit hurt since you didn’t tell me about our move.”

“You mean my move”

“Our baby, you’re still mine” suddenly he speeds up his car causing you to jolt back in your seat. “And I don’t plan on letting you go any time soon” he snakes his hand on your thigh.

“You’re sick. You need help Yunho, you’re a psychopath” you have no power in this situation.

“And yet you’re in the sick psychopaths car” he looks at you and you move your head away. You move your head away because you’re embarrassed. Embarrassed that he’s right. It has always been like this. Yunho has never been rough with you, forced you to do anything. At the end of the day it’s you who accepts him. Who melts in his hands.

You’re now pressed up onto the wall of his apartment. His hands are on each side of your head and he’s staring straight down at you. As if you were his prey. Eyes filled with hunger.

“Let go of me” you try pushing him off

“Let go of you? You’re the one who’s touching me baby” he chuckles out slowly leaning in closer. Your eyes avoid his and you feel the heat rushing through your cheeks. He’s right again.

“Why do you do this? For god sake you’re a cop- a sheriff even. You should know this is wrong” you’re now aware about the fact that you indeed were the one touching him, keeping your hands to your sides, he surely noticed that because he's now dangerously leaned down close to your face, nose grazing yours.

“No law will be able to take me away from you. I’ve made it very clear that you are mine” his lips are now brushing against yours.

Your lips naturally part and you’re now eager for a touch. A kiss. Anything.

“You really want this to end? Even though you’ve came on my hands and face? You’ve yelled out my name with such lust, should we tell that to the judge once you take me to court? Are you gonna visit me in jail and have me fuck you through my cell?”

His fingers are now trailing over your body. Starting from your hands, going all the way up to your arms, he caresses a line across your collarbone and circles down to your boobs, one hand stopping to pinch a nipple and the other hand sliding straight under your dress instantly feeling your wetness.

“Does it excite you? Fucking you through my cell?” he breathes onto your lips.

“Yunho…” you breathe out, a hand sliding on the back of his neck while the other tangles in his hair slightly pulling him more down “please kiss me”

Without another word his lips crash onto yours. Hungry, needy, rough as if he’s been waiting to do it for ages.

You whine at the loss of touch as he moves away from you for a second before swiftly lifts you up and takes you to his room.

Clothes were off in a matter of seconds. Or should you say ripped off. “Yunho!” you shriek when you hear your panties and dress rip and glance at them on the floor.

“I’ll buy you other ones” he lays you down on the bed connecting your lips once more “although you won’t be needing them around me” he chuckles out before sucking a harsh hickey on your neck, causing you to moan. You feel his smile on your neck as you start unbuttoning his shirt. You let out a frustrated huff struggling at removing his gun belt and pants so he helped you remove them.

“Look at you so eager to rip off my clothes. You were demanding me to let go of you minutes ago” he teases as he wiggled out of his briefs, now exposing his hard on, gulping at the idea of it fitting. You’ve done this many times but it’s been so long you almost forgot the sting of pain you’d feel at the beginning.

Sitting up he grabs his cock in his hands. You think he’s about to slide in but instead you feel him sliding his tip between your folds, causing you to grip on the bedsheets and let out a loud whimper. He slides his tip up and down your folds before ribbing circles around your clit with it, both of you shuddering at the sensation.

“You wanna run away from me Y/N? Hm?” he now leans close to you supporting his weight with both hands by the sides of your head. “Let’s see how fast you run from me.” he says before you feel him slowly entering you.

“One…”

“Two…” he pushes deeper

“Three..” deeper

“Four…” even deeper

“Five” what is he counting

“Six….” oh my god hes counting how many inches hes putting inside you

“Yunho please” you whimper out grabbing his ass and pushing him into you deeper earning a loud grunt from him. He slams into you and starts thrusting.

“Y'know I was gonna play nice guy with you today… even though you left me like that… wanted to make you come back to me.. ah… but that fucking dress didn’t help fuck” he now grabs your hips keeping you in place as you were squirming around.

“Ah Yunho please d-don’t st-ah op” he’s practically drilling into you now and you roll your eyes back.

“I won’t stop… I never will ah when will you accept me Y/N accept that you’re mine, even your pussy knows this by the way you’re sucking my cock right now god so tight”

“Mine all fucking mine” he’s whispering in your ear over the sounds of your skin slapping and squelching echoing in the room.

Although his thrusts are rough and hard, there’s a hint of passion in them, your bodies are so close together, skin rubbing against each other, almost as if he’s trying to merge your bodies together.

“Yunho I’m gonna-” you don’t finish your sentence before you feel the familiar feeling on heat rush out of you and soon later you feel his trusts get sloppy before he fills you up still chanting “mine” in your ear.

You spend a minute there, catching your breaths before you reach your hand out to his cheek and pull him in for a kiss. Your body wants him. Seeing him on top of you right now, his eyes sparkling at you. You are reminded of why although you ran away from him, you always accept him.

“You’re not going anywhere” kiss

“You can’t run away from me” kiss

"I’ll make you fall in love with me” kiss

“and its gonna happen tonight” thrust.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez smut #yunho #jeong yunho #yunho imagines #yunho smut #yunho x reader #yunho x you #yunho hard thoughts #yunho scenarios #yunho ateez #ateez yunho #jeong yunho smut #jeong yunho imagines

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ceilidho · 11 months

Text

prompt: price/reader bear shifter fic. PART 3. (part 1 here) (part 2 here)

The man at your till is making you feel increasingly uncomfortable.

He’s a stocky man, not quite as imposing as John, but still big. He’s particularly unnerving because the man has been standing by your till for the past few minutes without having anything in his hands. No basket in sight. Not a rutabaga or a bushel of carrots or even a single jar of olives.

It’s as if he just blew in off the street; dark hair mussed from the wind, shabbily dressed for the winter as if the cold weren’t even an issue for him. The intensity of his stare makes your skin crawl though, and it’s even worse when he decides to strike up a conversation with you.

It’s like he only came into the shop to stare at you and make creepy, suggestive comments. Laswell comes out from the back when his presence starts to make even the other customers uncomfortable, but all that does is relegate him to the parking lot, where he’s free to loiter and stare at you through the window all he wants.

You delay the inevitable for almost half an hour because you keep talking yourself out of calling John. It’s not like you’re not familiar with each other by now—he’s taken you to diners and cafés, and you’ve brought him tupperware filled with stew and casserole on the days when you’ve watched him slump up the steps of his front porch, looking haggard and about to fall on his face—but it feels intrusive. A favour you wouldn’t normally ask of him. It almost feels like you’re using him, actually.

Still though, after some time you almost feel like you don’t have a choice. You either call John or the police, and the latter option is vastly more unappealing. Then you’d really be causing a ruckus for nothing.

Since your phone is stored under the desk by the till, you take a second in between customers to dial John’s number, listening to it ring with your back to the window. That makes your shoulders tense up even more, acutely aware of two eyes burrowing into the back of your neck. The anxiety puts a cramp in your belly until you hear John pick up.

“John,” you whisper into the phone, hand cupped around the receiver. There’s static on the other end before you hear him grumble your name. “Are you—is this a bad time?”

“No, s’good a time as any,” he says, voice thick and heady. “What’s the matter, honey?”

The sound of his voice makes you shiver like it always does, but the effect is muted under the droning of your anxiety. Like a pale imitation of its usual force.

“I just was wondering if—would you mind coming down to the shop for a bit?”

“What for? Need help stocking the shelves?” he asks, still lighthearted. Maybe you’re keeping your cool just a bit too well because he hasn’t yet detected the undercurrent of fear making your voice almost tremble. You glance over your shoulder again and shudder when you see the same man still loitering in the parking lot, eyes locked on you. When he smiles, it’s mean.

“Actually I—I hope this isn’t rude but there’s…this guy’s been hanging around outside for a bit and…” you start, then stop to chew on your lip. “Well, he’s really starting to freak me out.”

You can almost hear him straighten up on the other end. “What’s that?”

Now his tone makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You’ve never heard him sound like this before—alert all of a sudden, a hard edge to his voice that you might have associated with his work persona if you’d ever seen it before. It fills you with comfort and worry all at once.

“He came in earlier and he was…well, he kind of came in looking confused and then—I think he noticed me looking at him strangely or something, which I—well, I don’t think I was making like, a weird face or anything, but—”

“Did he say anything to you?” John asks, cutting you off.

You cup your hand even more around the phone so it muffles your words. “He said I smell…fecund? I don’t even know what that means, but…”

He goes silent for a moment before he speaks again. At first, you think he sounds almost calm, but you clock the way his breathing pattern abruptly changes. “I’ll be there in a few. Don’t move, honey.”

He hangs up before you’re able to say another word. You hold the phone to your ear for another couple of seconds before your eyes inevitably dart back to the window, where the other man is still staring at you, his upper lip curled.

You try your best to focus on your job, checking each new customer out while steadfastly avoiding looking out the main window. It wouldn’t do you any good anyway. In your peripheral vision, you see the dark shadowy form of the man still leaning against his car, eyes still trained on you. It won’t be dark for another hour or so, but the fact that your shift only ends when it’s well past the daylight hours makes your hands tremble when you scan a container of hummus. You mess up the code for artichoke three separate times.

You don’t see the moment John pulls into the parking lot, but you hear the commotion and your head whips around just in time to see him dragging the other man into the woods behind the grocers, one big arm wrapped around his neck. He’s somehow bigger than the man you’d thought towered over you, making his struggle seem pointless as he's dragged off by John.

It’s over so quickly that when the two of them disappear past the treeline, you almost think you imagined it for a second. Then another second goes by and you find John’s car haphazardly parked in the lot, the door still open. At least he managed to turn it off.

“Kate, did you—” you say, turning towards when you remember last seeing her restock the boxed panettone display only to find your manager standing in front of your till, staring out the same window as you.

“Shit,” she says, blinking. A bit awed. “Never seen John that mad before.”

“He’s, uh—I called him because that guy wouldn’t leave. I thought maybe he’d…I don’t know what I thought he’d do, honestly.”

“You know, we could’ve called the sheriff.”

You don’t want to admit that your first thought was always John. Not the police. “Oh. I guess.”

The two of you keep staring out the window. Neither man emerges from the treeline.

“Should I—”

“Don’t even think about suggesting that you go check on him. He’s a grown man and you’re still on the clock.”

“Got it,” you mumble, a bit peeved.

Kate looks at you from the corner of her eye. “Besides, John’ll have my head if he finds out I let his favourite cashier chase after him into the woods where he just dragged off a man harassing her.”

“He wouldn’t do that—”

You’re cut off when a customer waiting at your till clears their throat, forcing you to leave your station at the window. Kate’s smug smile haunts you while you ring the impatient customer up. She heads back to her office before you’re able to say your piece, leaving you to stew in silence.

There aren’t usually many customers in the middle of a random weekday, so you have nothing to do except stare out the window and fret. Your heart skips a beat any time the trees sway with the breeze. Another customer gives you a bit of a hassle over a two-for-one deal that your scanner didn’t pick up and you almost snap at them.

You finally make the decision to leave your till when the trees rustle and your heart stops for a second before John steps back out into the parking lot, looking dishevelled but no worse for wear. His hat is gone. There’s a nasty cut on his lip and it seems like his shirt has been fully ripped open, exposing a wide, hairy chest and two thick pectorals. You do not stare at the way the hair on his chest whorls around his brown nipples.

His eyes are locked on you through the window and his brows furrow when he watches you jog to the doors. When they slide open, you hear him shout from across the lot, “Back inside.”

“I can—”

“Get back inside.”

You pout, but listen, taking a step back in and letting the doors shut with a whoosh. You wait anxiously on the balls of your feet until they slide open again when John finally crosses the parking lot in only a few short seconds. He zips up his coat before coming inside, depriving you of the view. You have to school your face so that your pout doesn’t deepen.

“Are you okay—” you ask when he steps into the grocery store, but no one in this town seems to be able to let you finish a sentence because he cuts you off almost immediately.

“Where’s Laswell?” he asks, almost rhetorically because he sidesteps you after a brief touch to your chin to tilt your head up, eyes tracking across your face as if looking for something to rile him up even more. “Kate.”

You shush him when you trail after him towards the back where Kate’s office door is wide open. His voice carries on a good day; after his tussle out in the forest, it seems to boom across the store, drawing curious eyes. You smile weakly.

“Busy today?” It’s the first thing out of his mouth when he reaches the door of Kate’s office. Her chair is already turned to face him, arms crossed over her chest and blonde hair pulled up into a tight bun.

“It’s normal,” Kate says, almost like a challenge. “Business as usual.”

“Good. I’m taking your cashier home then. That gonna be an issue?”

Kate rolls her eyes. “I’m trembling. You didn’t get all of this out with the other guy? Still need a good fight?”

“Please, John, I can stay—I’m really sorry about all of this,” you say, turning from John back to Kate, a bit frazzled now that it’s sunk in. A faint tremor works its way through you. You don’t even realize the way you unconsciously grip John’s jacket, anchoring yourself in place.

“Honey, we’re going home,” John stresses, fitting a hand against your low back, drawing you a bit closer. You move into him without a thought, like a natural pull.

Kate’s eyes soften when she meets yours. “It’s fine, I can cover the till for the rest of the afternoon. John’s right—just go home. I still know how to work a register, you know.”

He doesn’t let you stay a moment longer to argue or insist that you stay and cover your shift. He sweeps you out the door with a warm hand still low on your back, letting you briefly grab your coat and bag before hustling you to his car. It’s freezing inside from the wide open door, so he blasts the hot air until you slump into the passenger seat, the heat lulling you into a stupor.

The drive back home—whatever home at this point means—is long. Part of you wonders whether he’ll drive you to work tomorrow to pick up your car or if you’ll be forced to take a bus, but it isn’t the time or place to be thinking about those things.

“What’d you do with him?” you mumble, turning your head to stare at the side of his face. The cut of his jaw is hard, obscured somewhat by the beard growing in heavy with the winter, but deeply masculine like something out of an old western. You think you’d happily count every bristle without complaint if he let you.

“Taught him to mind his manners,” John says. The answer is short, to the point. It makes you tremble.

“Like, to respect women?”

He turns his head to look over at you. It’s just for a moment, brief in the grand scheme of things, but it feels significant. Pointed. Sustained. “To not touch what isn’t his.”

The truck never so much as wavers on the road.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #john price #captain price #captain john price #cod price #price x reader #price x you #price/reader

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napakmahal · 11 months

Text

Baby Fever

This may or may not be a call out towards myself cause I will swear up and down I don’t want kids then see a baby in public and be like “goo goo gaga”

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that working on slow days is beyond boring. What’s even worse is when the only people that come in on slow days are shitty customers.

“The manners of today’s working class have depleted in ways I cannot fathom!” Hiro came bursting into the back of the café restaurant with a look of disbelief on his face.

Without looking up from his phone, Tadashi answered “Wow those are some big words, little brother, I’m impressed.”

“Shut up!”

You laughed while sitting on the wooden countertop, arms hugging your boyfriend’s back. “What happened?”

Hiro plopped down on the stool in front of the sink and started to rant. “This woman comes in here and she bought a mocha latté and then complained about it being six dollars. Like I’m the one who makes the fricken prices! Surprise, surprise she didn’t have enough. So what did she do? SHE REACHED INTO THE TIP JAR AND GRABBED TWO DOLLARS! But then after I took her order and started making her drink, she followed me around the entire time watching me. She pointed at the simple syrup and was like ‘Can you add another pump?’ LIKE UNLESS YOU’RE GOING TO PAY THE EXTRA 25 CENTS NO I CANNOT! And when I finally gave it to her she said I took too long and that the place down the street makes them faster and they taste better. THEN GO THERE AND STOP WRINGING OUT MY PATIENCE!”

By the end of his story, you and Tadashi were losing your minds over how hard you were laughing. Granted, Hiro being upset wasn’t funny but his storytelling abilities were unmatched.

Customers could be very difficult and earlier that day someone had told Tadashi they wanted a manager because they were being pissy about not being able to get a refund on a drink they ordered and drank half of. If it were any other day, he would have just gone to get his Aunt. But Aunt Cass went out for a girl’s day with her friends since all of them happened to be in town and relatively free at the same time. As you get older, hanging out with friends is a privilege.

A couple of dings from the bell on the front counter rang signaling the arrival of a customer. Hiro’s fight of flight sense kicked in and he practically jumped off the floor.

“No, absolutely not.” He shook his head. “I’m not taking them, my workday is over.”

“What?” Your boyfriend looked at his little brother. “It’s been two hours!”

“Yes Tadashi, it has been two hours!” He hissed. “Two hours of my life I will never get back. These people are insane!”

Hiro took off and locked himself in the walk-in pantry. He then proceeded to slam his face into an unopened bag of flour and scream his heart out.

“Oh my gosh, he’s so dramatic.” Tadashi stared at the door of the pantry, listening to his little brother’s muffled cries.

The bell was still ringing outside, the customer was still waiting. You laughed into Tadashi’s back, taking in his smell. Tadashi’s a clean person and not only that, his natural body smell is just pleasant. Just about everything you own smells like him, and you love it.

“Do you want me to get it?” You mumbled against his cardigan.

Your boyfriends turned around to look at you. “What? Why would you do that?”

“Just to help out.” You shrugged.

“Hun, you don’t work here. You really don’t have to.”

You scoffed, “You don’t work here either. Technically.”

“But I live here, so I kinda have to.”

“Tadashi, I practically live here.”

He laughed at that. It was pretty true. The only times you ever really went home were to get things you didn’t have, do your laundry, or if you felt like they were getting sick of you. Plus you never really feel like that anymore because the last time you said you feared Aunt Cass wanted you out of her house she almost started crying. She was afraid she’d done something to make you feel unwelcomed. Besides, you’re her girl in a house full of boys and their bots.

“Are you sure? I can get it, or force Hiro to do it.”

“No, it’s not a big deal.”

He leaned over and pecked you on the lips. “Okay, thank you hunny. I appreciate you so much.”

You walked outside the curtain only to be met with a young couple and their baby. He was holding onto her and trying to rip away a claw clip from her baby grip.

“Yeah, mommy’s clip is pretty.” He said in a small voice. “But we can’t eat it though.”

“What is she doing?” The mom asked looking back at her partner and their baby.

“Trying to eat your clip. I’m telling you she’s going to get sick, last night it was the pen then-”

“Hi there!” You walked towards them smiling. “So sorry about the wait.”

The mom shook her head. “No, it’s fine. We were trying to calm her down anyway.”

“What can I get you guys?”

They went on to order one green apple Italian soda with redbull, an iced hazelnut coffee, and a small warm almond milk with a cake pop. The entire time you were making their drinks, you couldn’t help but notice the babbling of their baby. She was adorable, dressed in a pink sundress and flower-shaped sunglasses. Everything from the sound of the blender to the noise the can of Red Bull made when popped open made her giggle.

During that entire time, you couldn’t help but wonder: What if Tadashi and you had a baby? What would you name them? If it was a boy, then you could name them after him or Hiro. Naomi was a beautiful name for a girl. You could buy them little themed onesies and decorate their rooms. They would say ‘dada’ before ‘mama’ because it’s beyond simple to connect with Tadashi. And they could go to school and crush their science department and say it’s because their dad is a genius.

By the time you snapped back into reality, you’d already made all their drinks and made sure to cool down the small milk for the baby. When you placed everything on the dropoff, the little girl reached her hand down from where she was being held and poked the back of your wrist with her tiny finger.

“Hello there!” You smiled at her. “Aren’t you adorable?”

Your face only made her start to giggle and placed her hand on her chin and flicked it outwards. Thank you in sign language. In return, you placed your hand flat on your chin and pulled it down towards your chest to say ‘You’re welcome’.

“She’s beautiful.” You spoke to her parents. “What’s her name?”

“This is Nyla,” Her mom smiled at her baby. “She just turned ten months, so we’re almost there.”

You gently clapped your hands together, “Oh that’s amazing. Congratulations.”

“What about you?” Nyla’s dad asked.

Her mom joined in on the questioning. “Any little ones?”

You almost choked on your own saliva at their question. I guess to them it didn’t seem too extreme. They barely looked three years older than you.

“No, I don’t. I haven’t been with my current boyfriend long enough for that. And I don’t even know if he wants any.”

Nyla’s mom gave you a sympathetic face. “Well, if you end up wanting any I hope the process is smooth.”

You thanked them and signed “bye” to Nyla. Despite them being gone, the baby fever they’d given you without trying lingered all the way into the night.

——————————————————————————

While you were lying on your boyfriend’s bed scrolling on your phone through countless baby videos and falling down the rabbit hole of how skin-to-skin connection works and how to swaddle them correctly so they don’t scratch themselves when they sleep. As your back was turned you felt a dent in the bed as your boyfriend started kissing your back from your tailbone to your shoulder blades.

“What ya’ lookin’ at hun?” He plopped down next to you and started snaking his arms around your waist.

“Just scrolling,” You kept your answer vague out of fear of freaking him out. “Hey, did you know that if you rub a teething baby’s mouth with warm garlic it will make them feel better than cold cloths?”

Tadashi kissed the side of your jaw, the tingle of his minty toothpaste prickling your skin. “I did not, that’s pretty cool.”

“When you swaddle babies you’re supposed to get them little mittens because they have really sharp fingernails.” You added.

Tadashi’s face contorted with confusion. “Why all this baby talk? What are you watching?”

“Just a bunch of baby videos.”

“Why?”

You sighed and put the phone down to turn your body down and look him in the eyes. “Well, while I was helping those customers earlier. They had such a cute baby and we just talking about having kids and stuff and I think they gave me like- baby fever or something.”

To your surprise, he started to laugh.

“Why are you laughing?” You poked.

“I’m sorry,” He grabbed your wrists. “I didn’t mean to laugh, you just caught me off guard.”

Your heart flipped in your chest out of nervousness. Had you freaked him out? “Is that bad?”

“No, no it’s not.” He assured you. “So, you want a baby?”

You covered your face with your hands and groaned. “I mean, right now yeah but then I think about like the birth process and then I’m like ‘nuh unh.’”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think you’d make a fantastic mom.” Tadashi smiled into your neck.

You leaned over and rammed your head into his stomach. “Can we have one?”

The feeling of Tadashi’s stomach fluctuating while he laughed pushed against your head. “Maybe later, hun.”

“So you do want kids?”

He grabbed you by the face and forced you to look back up at him. “Yeah, I’ve told you that before. I’ve said I want a daughter, and I want her to look like you, and I want to decorate her room and throw her birthdays, and go to all her school and sports events.”

“I want her to have your nose.” You admitted.

Tadashi started laughing and shaking his head. “No, no she will get bullied. Trust me I know.”

“No matter son or daughter, they should take Japanese lessons.” You added.

“Yeahhhh,” Tadashi breathed through his teeth. He knew enough Japanese to ask someone for very general directions. But the second a native speaker started talking a little too fast, all his comprehension skills started to deplete.

You could have kids in future years, when you had a shared place and both of you were done with school. Besides, it’s not like anything at all could break the two of you apart.

#baymax #big hero six #big hero 6 #tadashi hamada #hiro hamada #bh6 x reader #tadashi hamada x reader #hiro hamada x reader #disney #fanfic #napakmahal #baby fever

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bratzforchris · 7 months

Text

Moonlight, M. Sturniolo

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*

Summary: Matt's favorite way to unwind after a long week of work is to smoke and enjoy the benefits that come with having you as his girlfriend. Songfic; loosely based off of "Moonlight" by Kali Uchis

Pairing: Matt x feminine reader

Warnings: Smut, drug use (marijuana) and sex under the influence, p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbating (m), cowgirl, marking, dirty talk, pet names (baby girl, doll), really long

Word Count: 3k

A/N: This is not a want...it's a need. Anyway, enjoy some smut to start your Monday the right way ;)

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*

Friday nights were Matt’s favorite night of the week. After a long week of work and the Friday video going up, he could finally enjoy true, quality time with you. You two would make dinner together, talking about each other’s week and sharing both your high points and low points. That was nice, sure, but he enjoyed what came after far more. You would sit out on the back deck together, passing a joint back and forth and gazing up at the stars. Sometimes these nights were quiet and would end with you both tucked up into bed, passed out before midnight. Other nights, the weed would loosen your tongues, leading to playful banter and clothes strewn across the living room.

✧˖°.

“Hey sweetie,” You smiled as Matt stepped into the kitchen, holding a brown paper bag. “How was your day?”

“It was fine,” Matt shrugged, coming around the island to wrap his arms around you as you stirred the pot on the stove. “Nick and Chris were good. We got the video up smoothly so…successful Friday, I guess.”

You turned towards your boyfriend’s chest, spoon still in hand. “That wouldn’t happen to be my favorite salsa, would it?” You asked, gesturing towards the paper bag in his hand.

“Oh, I dunno,” Matt kissed your forehead playfully. “What do I get out of it if it is?”

“A kiss? Best boyfriend of the week award?”

“I’m the only boyfriend of the week,” he grumbled, a smile dotting his face. “But yes, it is your favorite salsa.”

You squealed as Matt set the bag down, immediately tearing into it. Your favorite salsa was locally made, only sold in the small bodega near the triplet’s old house on the outskirts of LA. Ever since you and Matt had gotten your own place in favor of furthering your relationship, the salsa had become more of a rarity, making you cherish Matt even more every time he went out of his way to get it.

“The tacos are done!” You exclaimed proudly as you began to set out the spread.

“I’m more interested in this spread,” Matt snorted, landing a smack to your ass. “Are those new leggings?” he had gravitated towards your kitchen table, sitting down in one of the chairs with that cursed manspread that would’ve looked humiliating had it been on anyone else.

You looked down at the black leggings you had put on earlier in the day for this sole purpose. You’d just gotten them in the mail yesterday, and you knew they would drive Matt absolutely wild. He had a slight obsession with you in black. Nevertheless, you decided to have a bit of fun with him, smiling with a blush.

“Later, Bernard. We’re about to eat.” You knew Matt hated his middle name, and you could only dream of the ways he would get back at you later for it.

Sure enough, Matt groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I hate my middle name. It’s so stupid.”

“I disagree,” You giggled, fixing Matt’s plate. “I think MaryLou picked a lovely name.” You smiled, setting his plate in front of him and planting a kiss on his plump lips.

You quickly fixed your own plate, setting down in the spot across from Matt. Taco Friday was a weekly tradition in your small household, as was sharing the week’s highs and lows. You listened as Matt talked about a recent milestone he had hit on his personal YouTube channel, but your eyes were more fixated on his lips. It’s not that you didn’t care about what he had to say; rather, you were just so overwhelmed by how purely handsome your boy was.

“What was your favorite thing this week?” Matt asked you kindly after a while.

“Oh um,” You blushed, pushing your empty plate away and standing. “Does this count?” You hummed seductively, straddling yourself across Matt’s lap and tangling your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck as you kissed him.

Your boyfriend moaned into the kiss, grunting and shifting as your leggings brushed over his sensitive cock. “What happened to later?” he teased, a small smirk tugging at the edges of his mouth.

“You’re just hot,” You giggled. “That’s all.”

You usually weren’t as bold as you had been just now, normally opting to let Matt take the lead on affection and sexual encounters. Something was different about tonight, though. You couldn’t keep your eyes off him as you two cleaned off the table, or when you stood side by side at the sink, tag teaming the dishes.

The air thrummed with the sparks that were flying between you as you changed into one of Matt’s big t-shirts and comfortable shorts and him into a white shirt and plaid pajama pants. Even though it was early, you always liked being in comfortable clothes to smoke; it made the experience more enjoyable.

You didn’t miss the way Matt’s eyes rinsed over your body in his clothes. Even after over two years together, it still made his head spin that you were all his. Every inch of your body belonged to him, and him to you. He loves your body, how smart you were, your adorable face, and the way you lit up from the inside with joy whenever you were happy. Like right now, as you grabbed your rainbow striped pouch from your nightstand and grabbed his hand, tugging him out onto the back deck.

“This is probably my favorite time of the week,” You announced, smiling as you plopped down in one of the deck chairs. “I love the view.” You hummed quietly, gazing up at the darkening sky as the stars began to peek out.

“I love this view more.” Matt cooed, tapping your nose.

“You’re so corny.” You giggled, but blushed nonetheless.

You opened your pouch, pulling out a blunt and lighter while Matt turned on the speaker, playing Mac Miller’s Swimming album. The lighter in your hands was a special one; it had become a custom gift your boyfriend had given you for your most recent birthday, with a picture of you both on the vinyl wrap. It had been a gag gift at first, but Matt smiled every time you two used it, simply because it reminded him of all the times you two had shared.

“You want first hit?” You asked him.

“Nope,” Matt told you. “Ladies first.”

“Such a gentleman.” You laughed, hanging the joint between your lips as you lit up.

You inhaled for a moment, letting the sweet smoke fill your lungs, before exhaling and passing it to Matt. Even though there were only two of you, you had to say that this was your dream rotation if you could call it that. Matt was perfect in so many ways. He was in tune with all your moods and now was no exception. He had his eyes trained on you as he took a long drag, before turning his head and blowing a cloud of smoke towards the night sky.

“I’m so fucking lucky.” he hummed, staring up at the moon as you took another hit.

“Me too.” You smiled, scooting your chair closer to him as the joint dangled between your lips.

“Like…I live this fucking amazing life. I get to have fun with my brothers for a living and then I get to come home to my own house at twenty years old. I have my own house and a beautiful girlfriend,” Matt paused to look at you, suddenly shy. “And you support me more than anyone else ever has and I just…I’m really lucky and I love you.” he whispered, the weed already loosening his tongue, despite only having one hit.

“I love you, Matty.” You whispered, pecking his cheek and passing the blunt back to him for another hit.

Normally, Matt would protest anyone calling him Matty, but he loved you, and when you said it, it made his heart swell. He smiled, taking another long hit and blowing the smoke towards the stars. “I think I love you more.”

You smiled, curling into his side. You and Matt sat in silence for a while, passing the weed back and forth and enjoying the night sky and the music until Matt suddenly turned his head, looking at you.

“You’re really fucking beautiful.” he smiled, voice and body overall more relaxed than they had been an hour ago.

No matter how long you and Matt had been together, his words about how gorgeous or perfect you were never failed to make your cheeks heat up and the butterflies in your tummy take flight. You carefully put the lit joint out on a small ashtray that was laying on the outdoor table and then crawled out of your chair and into Matt’s lap, laying your head against his strong chest.

“And I think you’re really handsome,” You hummed. “And sexy. Definitely sexy.” You giggled, still high from all that you had smoked.

Your boyfriend held you on his lap by your hips, whispering sweet nothings to you as he kissed your lips softly, then moved along to your jaw. Each kiss was slightly more intense than the last as the moonlight shone down on you two, until Matt finally hit the sweet spot behind your ear, where he suckled softly, the scent of weed hot on his breath. Moaning involuntarily, you ground your hips against his lap, the ache that was blossoming in your growing as you felt his boner.

“Do I turn you on? Making you need to get off on my leg, baby? Or is that weed talking?” Matt asked you, sneaking a hand inside your shorts.

Just as he had suspected, you weren’t wearing any panties under the soft cotton, which allowed him to easily slide a finger between your folds. You whimpered as Matt left a trail of hickeys down your neck, rubbing soft, slow circles on your already-dripping clit. In between each new mark he added onto you, your lover would speak of all the things he loved about you and your body. Some of them were unintelligible in his smokey haze, others were little quirks you didn’t even know he had noticed.

“Matt,” You whimpered, holding yourself steady against his shoulders as he fingered you. “Don’t be a teas…” Your words were cut off when he hit a particularly sensitive area, causing you to hiss with arousal.

“I think we need to take this inside.” Matt chuckled, easily picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist.

He knew that he wouldn’t be able to control himself much longer. As much as Matt had grown in his letting go of anxiety over what other people thought, he really didn’t want your neighbors to watch you get fucked. That was for his eyes only. His cock was already threatening to burst with the need to just fuck you and feel every inch of your skin, of all of you, against him.

Once he had successfully made it inside, still carrying you, of course, Matt began to kiss you with fervent need, not being able to hold back any longer. He didn’t break the kiss as he carried you into the bedroom, sitting down with you against him.

“Oh doll,” he moaned, marking his love for you on your collar bone. “I can’t wait to eat that sweet little cunt until you’re absolutely dripping. Show you what happens when I get high, yeah? How much I think about you and your pretty pussy.”

You whined, gripping Matt’s hair in your hands as he pulled your (his) shirt over your head, admiring your bare breasts. He loved your tits, he really did, but that wasn’t what he was here for. Your boyfriend nipped at your boobs gently, making sure to leave enough of a mark for tomorrow. The soft flesh was turning pink with his hickeys as he sucked his way down your chest and tummy, laying you back against the bed.

You were already arching and wriggling against the sheets before Matt had even gotten your shorts off. The sheer tone and implications of his teasing were making you wildly horny, eager to feel his tongue and fingers inside of you. Matt smirked when he finally, finally pulled the fabric off, eyeing the feast before him. You were already dripping, your thighs slick with arousal.

He took his time to continue circling your clit slowly, teasingly, enjoying the way you whimpered and grunted. Once he began to pump a finger inside of you, it was downhill from there. You were grabbing onto anything you could; his hair, his biceps, his shirt, eager to just have him touch you more. Matt smirked at your eagerness as he thrust another finger inside of you, causing you to wiggle and whine.

“Think you can handle my mouth, baby?” he asked you. “You know how much I love dessert when I’m high and this? This is the perfect dessert.”

Without another word he thrust his head between your thighs, eating you out at such a rapid, dizzying pace that your cunt was already clenching within the minute. Matt didn’t stop at just his mouth, though. His tongue was gliding over your clit while he pumped his fingers in and out of you, creating a sinfully filthy symphony of your little moans whimpers combined with him enjoying all that your pussy had to offer.

“Matt…” You whimpered, panting with the need to climax. “Gonna cum.” you groaned, back arching.

“Go ahead, baby,” he cooed in such an obscene way, it just turned you on more. “Cum all over my fingers and tongue.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You immediately let go as your orgasm took you over, legs shaking and near-screams leaving your mouth. It was one of the strongest climaxes you had had in a while, leaving you greatly exhausted as white-hot heat released from your core. You fell back against the pillows, panting, as Matt lifted his head from between your legs. Your cum was dripping down his chin and his hair was a mess, but he didn’t seem to mind. He just licked his lips, a coy, wolf-like smile on his face.

“You think we’re only going one round, baby girl?” he chuckled. “I haven’t even gotten you to cum on my dick.”

Despite the roughness of your words, Matt placed a kiss on your forehead and lips, before pulling his own shirt and pants off. Not speaking again, your boyfriend began to jerk himself like there’s no tomorrow, head thrown back and eyes closed as his wavy curls fall across his sweaty face. You could tell by the look on his face that sinful fantasies of you were playing through his head, and that excited you as well, giving you more vigor for another round.

Matt reached over to his nightstand, still palming his dick, and grabbed a condom. You heard the unmistakable sound of foil ripping, before your boyfriend rolled the rubber onto his cock. However, he didn’t immediately slam into you. Instead, he laid down beside you, looking up at you with lustful eyes.

“Get on top. I wanna see that sexy face when I cum.” he groaned, his boner absolutely aching.

Slightly nervous, but also excited, you climbed atop Matt’s legs and lined yourself up with him. You weren’t very versed in riding him, but when you did, it was always an experience. Matt nodded at you kindly when you began to pick up speed, whining with his eyes screwed shut as your hips bucked against his own.

“Is this okay?” You asked seductively, but a hint of nervousness laced your voice. You were still rather high, and you didn’t want to do anything to make the wonderful night you two were having thus far miserable. “I don’t wanna ruin it…”

“No baby…” Matt hissed, throwing his head back. “This is perfect–oh god, right there, Y/N. Good girl.”

With his encouragement, you rode Matt faster, knowing he was close to his own orgasm by the look in his blue eyes. You were already sensitive from your first orgasm, and you always came quicker the second time.

“Oh god,” You moaned. “Matt, I’m gonna…” You didn’t get a chance to speak again before you were clenching around his dick, your release taking over your body.

The sound of you climaxing just revved up Matt’s hormones and he immediately came right after you, completely filling the condom. It was quiet for a bit, save for the sounds of you both coming down from your literal and sexual high, as you slid off of his cock, laying down beside him with a great sigh. Your boyfriend removed the used condom, tying it off and throwing it into the trash beside the bed, before scooping you into a spooning position.

“That was great,” he yawned, naked body pressed against your own. “Can I say something?” he asked you shyly.

“Always.”

“I feel less insecure when we have high sex…” Matt admitted shyly, voice trailing off at the end.

“Honey,” You said firmly, but not unkindly as your head cleared. “I understand, but you know I love you regardless, right? You’re the best romantic and sexual partner I’ve ever had.” You smiled kindly, yawning as well.

“Really?” Your boyfriend asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

“Really,” You nodded. “I love you, Matt. You’re my sun, my moon, and all of my stars, babe.”

Matt blushed under the weight of your words, pulling you closer to him. “That makes me feel better, actually. Thank you.”

“Don’t worry, hun. We’ll never lose our Friday night routine.” You placed a kiss on Matt’s cheek and the snuggled into his hold, ready to enjoy the rest of your favorite night of the week.

tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @runasvengence @idek3000hi @oobleoob @faygo-frog @mayhem-72 @mimi-luvzyu @sunsetsturniolos @strnlvr @chrissturnswife @suyqa

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