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tbaluver · 8 days

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Can you do the boys with a mentally unwell reader? Like she has depression, ocd, or anxiety that she takes medication for?

S/O Who Faces Mental Illness- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader tags: ( for all ) mentioning of depression/ depressive episodes, ocd rituals, anxiety/ social anxiety a/n: hi anonnie ! ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ sorry this took awhile, this was sitting in my drafts and i would keep coming back to it. i just wanted to make sure this topic is handled with care. i know that everyone has different types of depression, anxiety, and ocd so i wrote the ones that i'm familar with and gone through. i hope this was okay lmk ! ̤̮

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Xavier:

Xavier has always been such an attentive lover to you and he’s grown increasingly worried as he observed your unhealthy habits. He notices how you spend more time in bed than usual, longer than he would stay in bed. How you seem disinterested in eating, even if it were foods you typically enjoyed. Noticing how these impacts have affected you, he has made the effort to educate himself better on what you’re going through to understand and support you better.

If you were taking any medications, he'll read the entire packet that came with it or look up as much information he can online. He'll try to remember all the side effects that comes with it and makes sure to check up on you whenever you take them.

He notices when your energy plummets so it’s his duty to take care of you. He tries to make everything easy for you. He’ll make sure to tuck both of you in bed, turning off the lights when you both get ready, making sure to have food delivered when you wake up. Xavier encourages you to take a walk outside with him, helping you get some fresh air and encouraging you to step out of bed. He’ll hold your hand the entire time.

Distractions were one of the ways he could get your mind off any anxious thoughts or from any of your OCD rituals. He'll have a list of your favorite things to do and see if it helps. He'll stay with you in bed all day if that's what you need and wouldn't let you isolate yourself. Will also build a fort to cuddle you up in and have you tucked in his arms.

Anytime you two were out and you started to feel drained, then he'll take you back home. You two can stay in and cuddle.

He never pushes you beyond your comfort levels. If there was any situation where you started to feel uncomfortable, then he'll lead the situation and you somewhere else that sets you more at ease.

Zayne:

Zayne is no stranger to the topics of mental illness. He’s gone through extensive studies and many clinical experiences with patients. But with you, it's different. Your struggles aren’t just a clinical case to him, they’re personal. He’s acutely attuned to subtle changes of your mood and actions. He notices the quiet shifts in your expressions, or the way your eyes dull and lose their sparkle. Even though it’s hard to read through his expressions, it truly does hurt him to see you suffer. Your internal pain that you battle inside hurts him more than words can convey.

If you were to go through a depressive episode and you feel like you can’t do everything you need, then Zayne has no problem doing the extra housework or helping you with your physical health. He would reassure you to not feel guilty even though he’s busy with his work or any paperwork's. You have done so much as a loving partner to him and he will always return the favor for you.

He’ll help you shower and dress you up. He'll make sure to brush your hair gently and that you brush your teeth. He’ll even make sure you eat enough and he’ll praise you for taking every bites.

He’s always there for you. Even if he was in the middle of work, he would remind you to never hesitate to reach out whenever you feel isolated or just needed to vent, anything. Spam him, leave voice messages- he’ll read every word and listen to each message and reply with care. No matter how busy he might be, he’ll find a way to call you as soon as he can. He wants to make sure you’re okay and to remind you that you’re never alone, even when he’s away. Your well-being matters so deeply to him that he’s committed to be there for you in every possible way.

He'll keep note of all the side effects you've experienced with your medications, so he's aware of the potential issues that might arise when you take them. Will send you texts reminding you to take your meds at the right time and to make sure you eat before you take them so you don’t get nauseous.

He’s a very attentive and caring partner, he pays close attention to the triggers of your OCD and observes the coping mechanisms you have. He notices your struggle with hand washing compulsions and understands how these rituals can take a toll on you. He’ll try to help you by pointing out that excessive hand washing can actually be harmful, as it washes away the beneficial ones that your body needs.

He'll be very reassuring when you feel the need to constantly check up on things. He won't judge you for it but instead he'll offer to check on it himself and reassure you that everything is okay.

It wouldn’t be new to him to avoid places that were crowded or super noisy. He would know where all the less crowded and quiet places are. At this point, he already had taken the time to understand your triggers and sources of anxiety. He just wanted to be well-informed so he can help you avoid these situations and provide the support and care you need.

If you were to experience an anxiety attack, he remains calm and patient and helps you try to breathe. Whenever you need to vent, he’s always there for you. He’ll let you curl up on his lap while you talk, gently stroking your hair. Although he’s quiet while you talk, you know he listens to every detail and he doesn’t want to interrupt you. After you finish sharing, he’ll offer advice or discuss the situation to help you work through it together.

Rafayel:

He knows that you were going through significant struggles because it often kept you doing certain things with him. There are times when the weight of your depression and anxiety feels so heavy that it drains your motivation, making your favorite hobbies or simply just doing anything seem out of reach. Sometimes the intensity of your OCD leads you to stay up, unable to rest because you repeatedly check things like the light switches, doors, windows, and everything else in the house.

OCD is a topic that Rafayel wouldn’t tease or be playful on with you. He notices the small things when you repeat patterns or prefer certain number sets. He’s very patient and understanding about this topic but anytime you feel as if your ocd ritual was messed up, he is quick to run to your side and reassure you that everything will be okay.

Rafayel has been in a dark place himself so he knows the signs when you’re struggling. Whether you’ve been through this over and over again, he’ll help you through this every single time. If you don't have the energy to take a shower or a bath, then he’ll simply carry you and wash you himself. He’ll join you and use your favorite bath bomb scents and make it a little fun by blowing bubbles at you. A smile would curl up on his lips when he sees you smiling again.

He wouldn’t force you to talk. He’ll do most of the talking and hopefully it takes your mind off anything you were anxious about. When you are ready to talk, he’ll praise you. It’s a big step forward in healing and he would be listening attentively to everything you say.

Rafayel would text you throughout the day and ask how you were feeling. He's always there at your beck and call. If you need anything, he already has it and he's on his way to you.

If you were out in public and you started to feel uneasy, he would lead you somewhere else. Rafayel would always be holding your hand for security and to make sure you were always right by his side. He doesn't mind wherever you both go, as long as he's with you. He makes sure that you two can go to places that aren't crowded or noisy but still enjoyable and fun for the both of you.

He’s very worried whenever you take medications. He knows that they can have some mean and nasty side effects and that’s the last thing he would want you to go through. He’ll always make sure to check up on you a couple hours later to see how you’re holding up.

Sylus:

It does not take him long to notice you were acting off. Nothing can get past this man and he doesn’t want you to feel like you have anything to hide from him. No matter what the issue is, he isn’t leaving your side and you’ll both work on the issue together. He doesn’t want you to go through anything alone.

When you feel empty and you simply want to sink into your bed and lay there motionless because everything in the world was just too much, Sylus will not hesitate to take action. He’ll make sure you're eating nutritious meals by calling his private chefs or he’ll make them himself. He’ll sit right beside you and watch you take enough bites or he’ll spoon feed it to you himself. Sylus would make sure to tell you that you were doing so well even if the bites were big or small. After you are done eating, he’ll make sure that you take all your meds and check up on you if any of the side effects arise.

He’ll be right by your side at any doctor's appointments. He’ll carry you to the bathroom himself or he’ll use his evol to help wash, dry, and dress you up. Sylus would encourage you as well to go on walks with him so your body is still moving and so you can get some fresh air. He does all of this because he loves you and he doesn’t want you to lose any of the progress you made. He knows your capabilities and he knows you will get through this. He’ll be right by your side the entire time.

When he notices that your OCD rituals are becoming overwhelming, he doesn't hesitate to step in to help. He finds engaging activities for the both of you to do so it steers your focus away from the obsessive thoughts. Understanding how OCD can distort your perceptions, he uses distractions as a way to gently pull you out of that obsessive cycle.

Sylus would let you know that he’s accessible. Whenever you need him, feel free to call him any time and he’ll drop anything and come by to help you.

Don't even bother brushing off any of your issues. Anything that bothers you, he's always there to listen and help you. He’s a great listener and he never judges you for any problems you had and the reason behind your behavior. His shoulder is for you to lean on, cry on, laugh on, and hold on, etc. He’s understanding and wants you to be happy again.

When he’s away, he will have food delivered to you. He’ll make sure you eat and that you take your meds right after by calling or texting to remind you. Or he’ll just send Mephisto to you. He’ll caw/squawk repeatedly until you finish your meals.

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bigassmoonchild · 1 year

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Maple Syrup

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: All you needed was to contain the aphrodisiac, make an antidote just in case, and go home. But working with the 141 was never that simple, and now you and Ghost would find out how it worked. Up close and personal.

Content Tags: Vague kidnapping near the beginning, Sex Pollen, Smut, PiV Sex, Fingering, Fuck or Die, Mild Dubious Consent (consent is gained after pollen gets inhaled), No use of Y/N, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alpha! Ghost

A/N: Honest to god, I've been trying to write a story based on this thought alone. I can't even get it started but maybe this will get me. There also needs to be more Omegaverse written for COD, there can be some interesting stuff from it. Lmk if you want more of this, i'm exhausted <3 (p.s. I've changed the summary like, 10 times and idk how to feel about it)

Next, Headcannons, Masterlist

"Gaz, are we clear to enter?" Ghost asked into the comms. Gaz had gone into the building first, alongside Soap, to clear out the path you and Ghost would take. It was almost a straight shot, it felt too easy to get to the weapon you were there for. Maple Syrup, they had called it, even though it was an airborne weapon. You could hear a few shouts of a language, it sounded Russian but you weren't entirely sure, but you didn't have long to dwell on it as they stopped with a few gunshots.

Another few grunts came through before Gaz finally responded. "We're all clear in here, we still need to sweep a few rooms closer to Docs target, but you should be good to enter," he answered. Ghost nodded at you and led the way in, gun resting on his shoulder as he looked every which way. You knew it was a safety precaution, but you trusted Gaz.

You always trusted easily, it was in your nature. You were an Omega, and having trust in the people meant to protect you felt natural. You trusted your pack, even if you hadn't been a part of it for too long.

Maybe you shouldn't trust as easily.

Ghost shoved you into the wall next to you and started firing, bullets whistling past your ears as you ducked low. It reeked of sex, of Alphas and Omegas in heat or rut. Even through the military grade suppressant you could smell it, and it hurt. Ghost ducked around the corner, more gunshots echoing before a grunt came from him, and you heard the sound of a body dropping.

You didn't think before rounding that corner, seeing Ghost on the ground unmoving shook you. You ran your hands over him to feel for blood, but you couldn't see or feel anything. By the time you got to his shoulders, you found a needle trapped between his vest and arm, right in the meaty part of his inner-most shoulder. You plucked it off of him without thinking, tossing it to the side before pressing to feel for anything left inside.

You hadn't noticed the people advancing behind you, had ignored the calling from the comms or footsteps coming from the same direction Gaz and Soap were supposed to be in, but you felt the prick of the needle on your back. With a shout, you fell forwards, catching yourself from falling face first into the ground. You attempted to crawl forwards, get away from the men approaching from the back, but the medication they pumped into you caught up quicker than you could move.

It was with a groan that you sat up, swallowing thickly at the sickly sweet taste in your mouth. You tried wiping your face, but your hands moved slower than they felt, missing twice before wiping the area around your mouth. Pulling your hand back, a thin, dark red coating came back on them. You blinked hard, trying to remember what you had come here for.

The Maple Syrup mist. You couldn't remember much else about it, your mind moving at about the same speed as the namesake for the pollen-like substance. It was airborne. You knew that. There was something especially dangerous about it that a lot of the countries who knew about it wanted it gone. You were hired to make sure that no matter what happened, there was an anti-dote for it.

Something like that.

You blinked back into it when the door to wherever you were creaked open. You glanced up slowly, blinking at the men who entered and grabbed you, speaking loudly at you. What were they talking about? It wasn't Russian, you hadn't been in Russia or near any of their allies when you'd been grabbed.

You wouldn't understand it, your mind was moving at half the speed they were dragging you at. A few twists and turns, some scattered conversation floating around, and being dropped twice was what it took for you to be tossed into a similar room as your first. You laid face first on the ground, the cold helping to clear your head slightly.

Small cramps started in your back, twinging you every few seconds. A voice came over a loudspeaker, whatever they were saying it was something they were very pleased with. You turned, slowly, onto your back before crawling backwards to lean onto the wall behind you.

Maple Syrup. What the hell about it was so important they sent the 141 after it? Something something, military grade suppressants. The suppressants. Maple Syrup could break through military grade suppressants. You groaned, the cramps moving through your back and into your stomach. You could feel the heat, all-encompassing, starting to wash over you.

A loud, long creak echoed from the area to your left, and your head dropped to your shoulder as you turned it to look at the wall. A scent came wafting from the slowly opening crack in the wall, growing headier as the walls fully opened up. It was musky, with leather and tobacco, hints of the gunpowder you often smelled back on base. It made your mouth water.

The groan from the corner directly next to you startled you back into the present. As your eyes adjusted to the new lighting between the two rooms, a dark shape became clearer in the corner. A skull mask was lying tossed a few meters from it, and as your vision cleared up more, you could tell it was Ghost.

His head hardly moved as his eyes found yours, staring through you from beneath the balaclava.

"What's the verdict, Doc?" He grumbled, deep in his throat.

"Dosed with Maple Syrup," you whispered back, and his head fell back down between his legs.

A short, harsh sound came from him, it had to be a laugh, "then what's gonna happen to us?"

"When was your last natural rut?" You looked at him, licking your dried lips. You could see his head move sharply from your peripheral, his eyes flittering up and down. He shook his head, another dry laugh coming from him.

"It's that bad?" You nodded. "Probably since I took my last, longer leave. I think it was four or five years ago, but I don't remember," you blinked slowly. The levels of androstenone in him would be high, especially without a rut to keep him leveled, and the Maple Syrup would only force him to produce more. Too much, and he'd die of something. Whether it would be heat stroke, or dehydration you had no idea.

"If you don't pop a knot or two, you'll die. Heat stroke, maybe dehydration, but you'll die. I don't know the exact amount of androstenone inside of you, but if it gets too high you could be forced into a feral rut," you glanced over at him, his eyes scrunched shut, a low groan coming from his throat. He glanced back up to you, his eyes softened and fear started to lace his scent.

Ghost shook his head. "If I go feral, I'll kill you. I can't, Doc, I don't wanna kill you," his voice grew more strained as his sentence wore on.

"I'll be fine," you gave him a soft smile. "I'm going to go into heat, and if I don't get a knot, I'll die. I don't know if the weapon shit is able to counteract the birth control part of the suppressants, but I don't feel good. I need you to fuck me, Ghost," you whispered the last part. He shook his head. "You have my permission, so it's up to you to act," you swallowed again, eyes shutting as sweat beaded down your neck.

It was getting hot. Too hot, and you could feel your slick pooling and soaking through your pants. You could smell it, and you knew he could smell it. You could hear the panting breaths he took, the grunts he let out. A long, low growl came from him and his heavy steps inched closer to you.

Ghost grabbed you by the back of your neck, shoving you forward into the ground and scenting your throat deeply. He tore at the neck of your shirt, ripping it to let him get more of your scent. He licked a long line, sucking into the base of your neck softly as his teeth grazed along it.

He stuffed his fingers under your pants and panties, leaving you whining as two of his fingers brushed past your clit and buried into you. Even feral, the Alpha was trying to take care of you. They curled and pressed against you, leaving you writhing under him as you whined for more.

Pleasure blossomed in your abdomen, the heel of his hand grazing against your clit with each pump his fingers made, leaving you throbbing around his fingers. Ghost was able to get one more finger in you, nosing up your neck before sucking a dark hickey into your neck, teeth grazing along your neck and nipping you here and there, soothing it with a lick.

He tugged his fingers out of you, dragging your pants and panties down before shoving his down as well. He rutted his cock against your folds, soaking himself in your slick before sliding inside of you. A long, loud moan tore out of your throat as he kept sliding further and further into you, bottoming out with a growl from him.

Writhing against him with your mouth hanging open, he dragged himself out of you before rutting back in. Your nails scratched against the floor beneath you, you could feel your heartbeat in your clit and Ghost against your back.

Licking and sucking at your scent gland, Ghost dragged his face against it and growling. You could feel him throb inside of you, heat flooding you with his cum. A long whine came from your throat, hips pushing back and out against him as his fingers found your clit, rubbing in soft but quick strokes. Heat shredded through your abdomen, sliding through the rest of your body as your orgasm tore through your body.

You could feel your clit pulse with each heartbeat, his fingers not waning from stroking it, shocks flowing through you with each stroke. You thought you could feel tears pouring down your face, mouth wide open as you groaned. Ghost pulled out, letting you drop to the ground on your stomach before he flipped you over, pulling your legs to his shoulders and rocking his cock back inside of you.

Dropping your head back, your mouth still gaped open as he filled you once more. You could feel his knot catching onto you each time he thrust, leaving you whining. Ghost dropped back down, mouthing at your scent gland once more, leaving his open for your own mouth.

Pushing his balaclava away from his gland, you took licks of his for yourself. He tasted good, so good, his scent flooding into your mouth, you had to pull back just enough so that you could breathe. He grunted with each thrust, his abdomen brushing against your clit with every other thrust, your legs pushed into your chest.

Each thrust left you whining for more, faster, harder even if he couldn't hear or understand you through the feral rut. You felt tears pooling in your eyes again, dripping down your face as you gasped with each thrust, cunt throbbing around him as his knot caught more and more with every thrust until he couldn't pull out anymore. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt a sharp, stinging pain radiate from your neck before it heated into what almost felt like agonizing pleasure.

It burned white hot and you clawed at his arms, hips bucking against his, which were just barely thrusting against you, trying to pump you full and pump deep.

When he finally released your neck, he let out a long groan as his own orgasm seemed to finally wash over him. Ghost let his head drop to your shoulder, his hips trying to thrust harder and you couldn't stop yourself from biting down on his own gland in turn.

It was hard to see the way his mouth dropped open under the balaclava and his eyes roll back, but from what you could see it left you moaning against his neck.

It took you a few minutes to come back to when you released his neck. All you could taste those few minutes was Ghost, nothing more. You had to gasp for actual oxygen as his taste nearly embedded itself in your mouth.

From the moment you released his neck, to the moment you became more aware of what was happening, he had adjusted you to sitting in his lap with his back against the wall. You could hear him talking, but your mind was gone. There wasn't pain, but you weren't entirely comfortable. Your neck was sore, and your cunt was still throbbing around him.

He nuzzled your neck, lapping at your now marked gland.

Ghost wasn't entirely sure what would happen, neither of you would be able to hide the marks and even so, he would have to report this. He figured it wouldn't matter, for now, he could wait to figure everything out until you got medevacked and taken care of. Price would know what to do, he always did.

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ninii-winchester · 24 days

Text

Slumber party

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader

Word count: 600 words

Warnings : none just fluff.

A/n: totally unplanned, i couldn’t sleep so this is just from the top of my head.

It was late at night, the motel room was a bit crowded as Sam and Dean sat at the small table placed in the room, Y/n was on one bed while Castiel was on the other. This case was very different from what they’ve encountered before. A series of bizarre deaths that seem to defy the laws of physics, such as a man whose heart literally bursts out of his chest like in a cartoon.

“Alright I’m gonna call it a night.” Dean said closing the journal. “Cas you’re gonna book a room or what?” He asked the angel who was oh so casually looking through Dean’s stuff. It was not unusual that the trio shared a room on hunts, Dean took one bed while Sam shared the other with his girlfriend, Y/n as long as they promised no funny business.

“Nah I’ll stay here.” Cas replied and Y/n snickered at his nonchalance and Dean’s annoyance.

“Yeah right, we’re gonna have a slumber party, braid Sam’s hair.” Dean said sarcastically which made Sam smirk but his smirk faltered as he made eye contact with Y/n, who looked back with a mischievous look on her eyes. “Where are you gonna slee-“

“Oh my god” Y/n interrupted Dean who gave her a questioning look. “That sounds so much fun. Why didn’t I think of it before?” She grinned at the men in the room . “Baby come here.” She called Sam over and gestured to the space between her legs.

Sam gave Dean his typical bitch face to which Dean just shrugged. The younger Winchester walked over to his girlfriend and settled between her legs, facing away from her.

“Hey i need my four hours so get it somewhere else.” Dean commented as Y/n focused on french braiding Sam’s hair. He winched as she pulled particularly harsh unintentionally.

“Cas teleport him somewhere.” Y/n said without removing her eyes from Sam’s hair. Her tongue poking out as she concentrated. Cas stood up from his place to do it but Dean glared at him, and he sat back down on the bed.

“Take it easy on the hair, gorgeous.” Sam said holding his head as she pulled again.

“Yeah I know you love your hair more than me.” She replied as she was done with one side of his head.

“That’s not true. I love you more than anything in this world.” Sam replied and Y/n awed at his declaration of love.

“I didn’t sign up for this.” Dean groaned.

“Don’t groan grandpa we’re almost done.” Y/n said tying the other braid as well. After she was done she made Sam look in the mirror. He smiled at his own reflection as he saw the two french braids.

“It’s lovely, Y/n. Thank you sweetheart.” Sam pecked her lips.

“You’re welcome,, honey. You look so pretty.” Y/n smiled. She then grabbed a pillow from Dean’s bed and threw it at Dean who was slumped at the table. “Pillow fight.”

“Why the fuck did I say slumber party.” Dean groaned to himself, throwing the pillow back. Sam laughed at his brother’s misery, but pulled Y/n into his embrace before the pillow could hit her.

“Humans.” Castiel rolled his eyes sassily before going back to dig into Dean’s things.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567

@enamoredwithbella @winchesterwild78 @myuhh8

@ohsc (I’m tagging you because you’re a sam girl tho lmk if you don’t want to be tagged)

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evermoreal · 7 months

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some stalker!ghost thoughts ౨ৎ ࿐

cw. 18+ mdni, fem reader, stalking, murder (nothing detailed & the reader doesn’t know), breaking & entering, voyeurism, masturbation. lmk if i missed anything ! <3

∘♡༉∘ he meets you while on leave. it’s not often he’s off-base, and when he is, he rarely leaves the dingy little apartment he rents.

∘♡༉∘ despite the rumours, ghost is human. a human with a terrible sweet tooth, actually. after spending too long staring at his empty pantry, willing something to appear, he decides to check out the little bakery he’d spotted on an early-morning run a few days ago.

∘♡༉∘ it was quiet inside — so quiet he had to double check that the ‘open’ sign was actually lit up. it was, and there was a faint, bubble-gum pop song playing from somewhere behind the ‘employees only’ door. after a moment of deliberation, he dings the little bell atop the counter.

∘♡༉∘ there’s a short yelp, and that sickly-sweet music is immediately paused. not a moment later, the door is swung open, and the prettiest little thing he’s ever seen is rattling off non-sensical apologies. there’s a bit of flour on your nose, some frosting on your chin.

∘♡༉∘ ghost knows he’s intimidating — enjoys it, even. not once in his life has he felt at all bad about it, not until now. the way you stutter over your words, staring up at him with wide eyes, growing frantic the more he silently stares has him regretting everything.

∘♡༉∘ now, he wishes he’d taken the time to swap out his balaclava for a surgical mask, or at least worn something other than his usual black hoodie and jeans. all he can do is shove his hands in his pockets, and say as softly as he can manage, “‘s okay, sweetheart.”

∘♡༉∘ you visibly relax, at that. shoulders slumping from where they’d begun to climb toward your ears. after that, you’re asking how you can help him, and when he asks for suggestions, you’re full of them. he ends up leaving with a box full of treats he doesn’t need, but he just couldn’t say no to anything you offered.

∘♡༉∘ only two days later and he’s returning. he doesn��t know why, but he can’t get you out of his head.

∘♡༉∘ the sight of your big, toothy smile when he walks in has his heart soaring. you’re immediately asking about the treats, if he enjoyed them or not. of course he did — he couldn’t get through all of them without a sore stomach, but the ones he did eat were the best damn baked goods he’d ever had.

∘♡༉∘ it’s easy enough to find your social media; you’re not great with privacy settings, and he spotted your name on your tag the first day he met you. instagram, snapchat, twitter, spotify, even facebook. your posts are so sweet, he finds himself smiling absentmindedly as he scrolls through them. baked goods, selfies of you and your friends, animals, the moon. he doesn’t know why he’s so satisfied when he concludes you don’t have a partner.

∘♡༉∘ there’s a photo of you at the beach alongside your friends. you’re smiling in it, the way one would for a photo — it’s not genuine, not like how you smile at him. but you look beautiful, so much so that it has something foul twisting in his stomach at the thought of anyone else seeing you like this. the photo wasn’t particularly revealing, and you weren’t posed scandalously, but… he grinds his teeth as he goes through the comments. he’s so, so proud when he sees that you haven’t responded to the men, not even deigning to like their comments. heart eyes and shitty compliments — he files away their names, somewhere in the back of his mind. just in case.

∘♡༉∘ it becomes routine to visit you after that. every few days he came in, spending more money than anyone should at a bakery. only once did he make the mistake of coming in on your day off. it only made sense for him to wait for your coworker to use the restroom and sneak back to the break room, snapping a photo of your schedule.

∘♡༉∘ additionally, and even more strangely, he’s glad the bakery has the sweet habit of labeling who made what treats. when you suggest the ones made by your coworkers, he’ll still purchase them, just to see you smile, but they don’t go anywhere near his mouth.

∘♡༉∘ and, hey, it’s not like sticking around until the end of your shift was a terrible idea. he’d sit in his car on the other side of the street, monitoring whoever entered and exited. he just needed to make sure you were safe. a sweet thing like you, the world would chew you up and spit you out so easily — there’s no way he’s gonna let that happen.

∘♡༉∘ it’s rare he deems someone a threat, but when an older man leaves the place with a scowl, he gets a bad feeling. immediately, he’s back inside the bakery, only to find you teary-eyed and sniffly. fury takes hold in an instant, but when you spot him and whimper out his name, he’s unable to leave again, no matter how badly he needs to hunt that man down. you step into his arms and ghost knows that prick will have to wait — right now, he needs to take care of you. wiping your eyes, cooing at you until you calm down enough to explain what happened. he insists you take your break, and when you do, he treats you to the restaurant across the street you’d mentioned you’d liked.

∘♡༉∘ the prick never comes back. you don’t question why, and simon’s glad for that. he doesn’t know how accepting you’d be if ghost told you he was buried a few cities over.

∘♡༉∘ after that, ghost’s instincts kind of go haywire. in his eyes, you’re no longer safe when he’s not around, not even at home. he spends his nights parked a few houses down, watching you through the window you so often forgot to draw the blinds across.

∘♡༉∘ a few weeks later, it was clear you were going through a bad time. although simon was greatly relieved when he found out it was merely a common flu, he was furious you still had to go to work to support yourself. in just a few months, if he kept at it, you might let him support you. for now, though, the best he could manage was slipping through an unlocked window and catching up on the chores you’d fallen behind. doing the dishes, your laundry, taking out your garbage. now, when you returned home, you’d be able to relax, to get better.

∘♡༉∘ additionally, he made mental notes of things that needed fixing. the lightbulb in your upstairs hallway was flickering, there was a leaky tap in the kitchen, and a few of your doors could use new hinges. he’d get to that, too, eventually.

∘♡༉∘ (he prayed you were delirious enough in your sickness to not notice. he was mostly right — through the window, he spotted you staring at the now-clean dishes with a puzzled expression. you brushed it off, and he exhaled in relief, returning to his phone, where he was purchasing a refill of your favourite perfume).

∘♡༉∘ it was hard, though. work often called him away, and he didn’t want any of the neighbours reporting a suspicious black truck parked on the street. after much debate, he purchased some cameras, installing them in a few rooms and along the exterior of your house.

∘♡༉∘ being able to check up on his girl helped him sleep when he was away. he had to pay a few extra dollars for it, but now whenever the motion sensors went off at night, he’d get a notification sent to his phone.

∘♡༉∘ he panics when it goes off one night, a while after he’d watched you fall asleep. it woke him up out of his dead sleep, body attuned to the sound of the notification. he was on base, a ways away from you; he couldn’t unlock his phone fast enough.

∘♡༉∘ however, he merely found you, alone in your room, writhing on your bed. he was confused for a long moment — were you hurt? did he need to call someone to check up on you? however, when he clicked the little ‘unmute’ button, and a low buzzing sound cut through his speakers, he came to the realization with a groan. you were getting off.

∘♡༉∘ he knew he should close the app. he knew this was a new level of invading your privacy. he knew he was disgusting . . . but the blood in his brain had already begun it’s descent to his cock, quick enough to make him light headed and a little stupid.

∘♡༉∘ the walls in the barracks were thin. he made sure to keep the volume low as he listened to your quiet moans and breathy whimpers. pressing his face close to the screen, he watched with wide, dilated eyes, cock twitching in his briefs every time you bucked your hips against the vibrator.

∘♡༉∘ simon didn’t quite know how it happened, but somehow he’d ended up on his tummy, cock fucking into his fist while he imagined it was your pretty little cunt. he finished embarrassingly quick, growling against his pillow, waiting just long enough to hear the sounds of your climax.

∘♡༉∘ the hazy, post-climax period was cut short when he heard your voice, quiet and muffled against your palm. it was breathy with the come-down, but his heart lurched in his chest. he had to rewind the video, holding the speaker up to his ear.

∘♡༉∘ sure enough, you’d uttered his name. simon. you were thinking of him.

∘♡༉∘ despite claiming you long ago, something was cemented in simon’s chest at the sound. he couldn’t wait any longer. the moment he returned, you’d be his. no matter what he had to do.

382 notes · View notes

emepe · 12 days

Text

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: The first 48 hours are crucial when a person goes missing. Eren can only pray it’s enough to reach you..

— Content warnings: emetophobia, mention of assault.

— Notes: Helloooo!!! Welcome to TV Friday number 12 <3 I thought about posting earlier but I thought best to keep up our little tradition ^^ Please read the notes at the end for extra notes about TV’s future. Don’t be shy to stop by my ask box <3 If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list, lmk. Happy reading!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

Forty-eight hours

Hour One

A missed call shouldn't have been enough to raise an alarm, but his gut instantly told him something was wrong. And yet he tried his best to remain calm — stepped out onto the street and made his way to the bus stop where you should've been dropped off, glancing into convenience stores just in case, hopeful that the bus was just running a little late. But when the bus you would've taken showed up — allowing Eren some time to sigh in relief and shake his head at his own presumptions — and you were nowhere to be found among the few people to scatter onto the sidewalk, it only confirmed that previous gut feeling.

Hour Two

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

There's a stiffness to Eren's breathing that makes the process more painful than its intended effects — his lungs feel too big for his ribs, which seem to be pressing them against his heart, pushing his brain into hyperactivity to keep him from imploding.

Where does he even start? Where should he even go?

If there's a proper protocol to follow to find you, he's no idea of it and he's strangely aware that his anxiety might lead him in the wrong direction when there's so much he has to do — so many places he has to be — at once. It's infuriatingly difficult to not have a cool head when you really need it.

He didn't think to bring his car — perhaps it's for the best, considering his vision continues to blur and it's not a sign of good condition to hear your own frantic heartbeat pounding in your ears.

His eyes anxiously scan the faces of every person in his path. Paired with his dazed footing and the sick expression on his face revived every couple of minutes from the nausea stemming from some sort of sensed doom that he continuously swats away, there hasn't been a shortage of odd looks and aversions since he ventured into the dark streets in hopes to find you fine and well out of thin air.

It's been too long to dismiss as a casualty since his calls stopped going through, and yet he insists on redialing your number each time he's met with the automated message that only further fuels his dreadful symptoms, hopeful that your voice will reach his ears again, for that comforting sound to put an end to the infernal crescendo of his insides.

Just as he's about to redial once more, his phone starts buzzing first, and for a split second his body is at peace and his heart soothed in the spare moment that it takes for him to accept the call and bring the phone to his ear.

“Have you heard from her yet?”

The voice on the other end causes his stomach to plummet to his feet for what feels like the tenth time tonight.

It takes a moment for his brain to assimilate that it's not you on the other end and another for him to hate himself for not checking who was calling and stupidly spit a response to an Armin who has no fault in anything, especially for not being you.

Armin, as understanding as ever and assuming the more collected role for Eren's sake, dismisses the frustrated tone in his friend's voice, fully aware it's nothing personal.

“The security guard says she left a little over an hour ago and Mika called me a minute ago and said she hasn't been home. Are you sure she wasn't going to make any stops on the way?”

“No, Armin, she would've told me. She would've come here first or she would've at least texted me.” Eren's voice cracks. “Something is wrong.”

The weakness in Eren's voice is enough to fracture Armin's composure for a fraction of a second.

“Let's go to Levi.”

Hour Three

Being in the police station feels more reassuring than Eren would've imagined. At least this means he's doing something — and something right, at that — and the drive over spared him enough time to ease his nerves, even just a little, as he continued to repeat inwardly to himself that everything is going to be fine.

Time is everything and frankly, he can't help but feel a bit dumb for not thinking about getting some help from Levi in the first place. He'll find out what's going on — if there was an accident, if you got mugged and that's why no calls go through, or even if your bus broke down and that's why he hasn't seen you when he should have by now. Even if it turns out to be a misunderstanding, better to cause a scene than to sit on his hands. Though three hours without any sign to say otherwise can't be a misunderstanding.

Eren hunches over, resting his forehead on the edge of Levi's desk, not minding one bit as it digs a dent into his skin. His knee bounces every couple of minutes as he and Armin wait for Levi to get back to them.

“Eren Jaeger?”

He looks up to find a tall blond man instead of Levi.

“Yes?”

“I'm Captain Erwin Smith. Come this way please.”

Eren stands to follow the man's lead, only sparing a nervous glance to Armin, who replies with a comforting one from his seat, only morphing into a more accurate depiction of his worry once Eren turns his back to him.

“Where's Levi?”

Eren's eyes wander the barren space he's been led into. Nothing but a table and a pair of chairs set opposite of each other.

“He'll be here in a moment. I just want to ask you some more questions about the missing person's report you're filing.”

“Of course.”

Doing his best to hold in his exasperation at the ticking clock in his head, he dutifully replies to every question he's already answered for Levi when he first walked into the station — what made him come to the station, his relation to you, your description, what happened before he lost contact with you, amongst other basic things to paint a picture of the situation.

“Was there ever any trouble in your relationship?” Erwin asks.

Eren's brow furrows.

“What do you mean?”

“I'm asking if there was any indication that your girlfriend,” he makes a vague motion with his hands as he reads your name from the folder in his hands, “might’ve been upset with the relationship. Did you ever argue or have any trouble? Perhaps something in the past few days? Or ever?”

Eren hardens his jaw in an attempt to remain calm. He knew he'd have to spend a while at the station, answering questions more than once — as frustrating as the lengthy process could be, he expected that much.

Erwin's tone has remained neutral for the entirety of the questioning, and it's only natural to want to rule out any immediate suspects, but it doesn't make the implication of the captain's words any less offensive and borderline cruel.

“No,” Eren chokes out, horrified by the mere idea that either of you would walk away without warning. That isn't you.

“So no reason for her to break off contact with you.”

“She didn't break off contact,” Eren spits, growing heavily frustrated at the sudden turn of events. “We were supposed to meet, she was on her way already. I saw her just this morning and she called me first to tell me she was coming home.”

“Maybe she only said that to throw you off?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Just tell me what you might think,” Erwin replies, voice stern. “You say it's only been three hours since you last heard from her but she's a mentally stable, healthy adult. Unless she has any conditions that could put herself or others in danger, chances are she's safe and sound somewhere and this is all a misunderstanding. Was there anything suspicious or weird about her?”

Eren's shake of his head grows more and more frustrated as Erwin does little to conceal his skepticism, which only shapes as a misunderstanding from Eren's increasingly impatient point of view.

“What's suspicious and weird is that she never made it to our date at all and it's been three hours and I haven't gotten a single word from her.”

Eren's expression is one of pleading, yet Erwin's remains neutral and made of marble.

“And it's not like that,” Eren murmurs. “I was going to ask her to live with me tonight. She called me after she left work to tell me she was on her way.” Eren can feel his heartbeat start to pick up as his ribcage begins to close in on his lungs once more as more anxious words continue to spill from his mouth in increasing pace and volume. “She told me she had news and that she loves me. Why would she tell me that if anything was wrong? Why would she say that if she wasn't going to make it to our date?” The crack in his voice comes at the same time as the stinging sensation behind his eyes and the uncomfortable tickle in his nose. “I was making dinner for us. I had this whole thing planned. I wanted to surprise her with all her favorite food and the pictures from the new apartment. I wasn't going to tell her about the pink bathtub because I want it to be a surprise when we move in. She…” He curls against the table, hands gripping his hair in frustration, pulling at the strands to make sure he still feels something because there are just too many sensations overwhelming him as he tries to get through to the man in front of him. “She really wants a pink bathtub.”

Eren doesn't lift his gaze, just remains quiet and unmoving until he catches a flicker of movement in front of him. It's only when he takes the tissue offered by Erwin that he becomes aware of the tears streaming down his face.

Levi nearly had a heart attack when he first caught eye of Eren's and Armin's familiar faces walking into the police station. The frantic green eyes and anxious expressions made it clear something awful had happened and hot flashes of searing dread burned inside his stomach. That is until nobody pronounced his niece's name. After that, the flame of pain withered to ashes of guilt, consuming him from the inside in such a manner that it was hard to face his niece's friends knowing he'd felt relief it wasn't his family who'd been affected tonight.

Levi's known Eren since he was a kid — a bit childish and whiny, but ultimately a decent man with a kind heart. It's been a pleasure watching him grow up and knowing he's remained a good friend to his niece.

Levi's only met you once. It was at Jean and Mikasa's engagement party earlier this year. If Jean and Mikasa were the happiest couple there, you and Eren were a close second. It was easy to know just how much he adored you, and how attached you were to him. Eren was rarely in a dark place, but next to you his smile was blinding.

After finding out Erwin conducted the interrogation to rule out a possible runaway case — and how he did it — he still hadn't ridden himself of enough guilt to apologize for making the situation more stressful, no matter what the rules say.

It's no secret some sudden disappearances hold more danger than others. An abducted child, an older person with dementia, a mentally and emotionally unstable person who's looking to cause harm to others or themselves — they demand a higher sense of urgency than logging the missing person into the system and following up when there's nothing more pressing on the police's plate.

The desperation consuming Eren's features when Levi finally walks into the interrogation room is enough to kick off his own instincts.

It's upon Levi's insistence that patrols are dispatched immediately.

Hour Five

When a loved one's safety is on the line, any efforts from authorities never seem to be enough and yet one remains oddly hopeful that the people with a proper protocol should know how to better handle situations that leave one frantic and lost.

Calls to the nearest hospitals, pings from cellphone towers, two patrols dispatched to the last known location and its surroundings, questions to potential witnesses who have nothing to report or are rather too invested to go back to whatever keeps their attention inside to provide some detailed tips, one patrol leaving because of a nearby break-in and the remaining one left with nothing more to go off of than one grainy clip of CCTV footage that shows your figure walking down the street, and a second clip from a convenience store's outside surveillance camera where you don't show up at all, but the lack of witnesses lead to nothing in between.

Keeping up the search when there's been nothing gained starts proving to be more difficult when obstacles continue to pile on. Aside from the growing boredom of those in police cars from the lack of fresh information to keep them motivated, the heavy clouds that hover over everyone's head threatens for the case to soon be abandoned for the night.

Hour Eight

Levi is hesitant to leave. But with no leads — no CCTV footage, no unknown numbers blinking on Eren's screen, no mother, an estranged father, no sign of a struggle at the last known location, and so much yet so little more — there isn't much he has to do than drive back with the pair of worried men to the station for more questioning in case of foul play, while constantly eyeing his notifications for any incoming messages on an assault victim found in an alley not too far away from where your phone was last still on.

Eren refuses to leave. Despite Levi's efforts to persuade him that going back to the station was necessary, knowing he was so close to where you'd last been was enough for Eren to stand his ground. Getting into Levi's car means going back miles worth of steps. It means straying from what feels so much like the right path already. And as ridiculous and futile as it is with no leads, it means losing his grip on something much more solid.

How easy it would be if a last known location means he can find you just by looking behind a tree or having someone point and say “yes, she's right there”.

So when Levi makes another plea for Eren to come back with him — he doesn't mention what for to not stir any more nerves — and Eren says no while steering himself down the block for what feels like his hundredth recon of the area — just in case you really were behind that tree in the small playground all along, playing a nasty prank on him — Levi chooses to go back to all the nearby twenty-four hour convenience stores one last time before the downpour begins.

Armin gives Levi a grateful nod before lightly jogging to catch up with Eren, who's already turning onto the next street.

“You can go,” Eren calls over his shoulder after catching a glimpse of his friend's blond hair beside him. “I'll keep looking by myself. Besides, it's gonna rain soon. You'll get wet.”

“What about you?” Armin looks down at his friend's bare arms. “You don't even have a jacket.”

Eren looks down at his sides, like he just noticed his lack of a coat. He could've sworn he had one on him when he walked out his apartment. You would've been upset with him otherwise, that small pout forming on your lips while your brows are weighed down with disappointment.

The instant of amusement he feels is quickly consumed by the ache of why he's out on the street with no jacket to begin with.

The food must be cold by now. He'll have to heat it all up once you're back home.

Light raindrops brush against his skin with a small gust of wind.

You're still not behind the tree.

It's nearly half past two in the morning. Any civilians with useful information have been asleep for hours, and any passers-by would've reported anything had they seen it, Armin thinks.

It's chilling to walk down streets so quiet and empty, with the only reminder that this isn't an alternate universe being the sparse cars that drive by. Surely the people inside might find it strange to see the pair walking up and down the streets, turning, looking, flashing their phones to make out shapes in the dark.

The tickle of rain on skin is no longer, but the temperature continues to drop.

Armin takes on one side of the street while Eren tackles the other. He receives a polite nod from the security guard of a small daycare center, who fails to conceal his look of pity. Levi interviewed him around an hour ago, so he has to know what's going on.

Armin averts his gaze, his cheeks burning at the thought of some stranger pitying him and his friend when everything is going to be just fine.

The rain starts up again. Eren isn't around anymore. With one quick scan of the street, Armin spots him rounding the corner to the next street — pace firm but anxious. He's quick to follow.

By the time Armin catches up, the raindrops have grown in size, a reliable sign that this time, it's for real.

“Eren,” Armin calls him carefully.

Eren continues walking, flashing a light behind a dumpster in a narrow alley between a family restaurant and a bookstore.

“Eren,” Armin calls him a bit more firmly to get his attention, but to no avail.

With brows knit more in desperation than concern, Armin quickens his pace and pulls Eren by the shoulder just before he rounds the corner to the next street.

“Eren!”

“What?”

The anger and volume in Eren's voice shrinks Armin in his place for a brief moment.

Embarrassed by his own reaction, Eren exhales an apology. But his face hardens once more when Armin suggests it's time to go home.

Armin steps back, surprised to have caught a swear word from his best friend among the words he spits back in a negative response.

But when Eren turns, ready to resume his search, Armin pulls at him again.

“Eren, stop!” he half-yells, quickly readjusting his volume before speaking again to not cause any disturbances to sleeping strangers.

“You don't want to pick a fight with me Armin, I'm warning you,” Eren's voice grows low, but still reaches Armin with the same anger and menace.

Eren harshly pulls away and continues to storm down the next street, leaving Armin to stumble behind.

The rain is heavy enough now to spot the pavement faster than it takes for each drop to dry.

“We need to go back, we aren't going to find her like this,” Armin calls after him. His hands do little to shield himself from the rain. Thankfully, Armin thought to bring a jacket along but it won't do much for either of them when it's bound to be sopping wet in just a few minutes.

Eren's shirt is already clinging to his skin in large patches down his back, and yet he continues walking with purpose down the street.

Armin's shivering now under his jacket as he looks around to gather his surroundings. This street isn't far from the office. It's poorly lit which, paired with the rain, is best explored in daylight. There's a single street lamp that's meant to illuminate the area at night, but it's been broken for months and either nobody has reported it, or laziness has kept it from being repaired.

“Come on,” Armin insists, lightly jogging now and losing his breath under the cold shower as he tries to keep up with Eren, who still refuses to listen. “We'll come back in the morning! You need to get some rest if you're going to keep looking! I'll come with you, okay? But we need to go!”

Armin suddenly crashes into Eren's chest as the latter abruptly turns around in a sudden fit of pure rage.

“I already told you I'm not fucking leaving!”

Armin stumbles back, teeth chattering, muscles drooping from his wet clothes and vision blurred by the heavy rain.

“You can leave if you want to! That's what the fucking police is doing! Just go already! But I'm staying because I care! I don't give a fuck about the rain, I'm going to find her!”

Eren's words pierce through Armin's chest, and the next moment he's tackling Eren to the ground. It's not so much to stop him from leaving this time, but out of indignation.

Eren falls on his ass with a wet thud, his palms painfully pounding onto the pavement as Armin falls on top of him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt in his hands.

“You think I don't care? Why do you think I'm here, you idiot?” Armin yells in Eren's face. Had the pouring rain not been a factor, he would've been red in the face. But had the rain not been there, Eren also would've easily seen the tears streaming down Armin's face, and that would've taken away from his blue glare.

“She's my best friend! I'm just as worried about her as you are! You can't decide you're the only one affected by this! That only makes you a jerk and you're not!”

Eren is tense all over as he holds Armin's surprisingly threatening glare. His chest heaves as a twinge of guilt surges inside of him at his friend's pointed remarks. The stiff breathing makes its return.

“But we have to go,” Armin's voice softens — it cracks and begs.

And Eren breaks down in sobs. His scraped palms come to his face, aggressively digging the heels against his eyes as if to force his tears back in while his shoulders tremble in cold, grief and guilt.

“You don't understand!” he cries, his shirt still crumpled under Armin's grip. “I fucked up, Armin. This is all my fault!”

Unsure of how to react to this abrupt change in attitude, Armin remains frozen save for his teeth, which continue to chatter under the deafening rain.

“I was supposed to pick her up. I'm never late,” Eren hiccups. “But I didn't come today and now I don't know where she is! It was me, Armin! I did this! This is my fault!”

“Eren,” Armin murmurs gently, eyebrows upturned in sympathy as he finally softens his hold on his friend.

“I can't find her and I don't know if she's hurt or scared or if…,” Eren's words drown in another wave of sore sobs, his lips refusing to let the thought of the worst to escape as a spoken word — to think that someone might have caused you harm and that's what's kept you tonight.

“I need her to be okay,” he whimpers finally, lips trembling as his body begins to react to the harsh cold surrounding him. “Where is she, Armin?”

It takes a while for Armin to gather his thoughts and catch up to the workings of Eren's mind from this hellish night.

He often leaves the office with you, stays behind some evenings when he notices you're close to wrapping up your work and can ride the elevator together. Sometimes even accepts Eren's offer for a ride when he's too tired to deal with the overwhelming setting of public transportation — tired enough to not mind third-wheeling for a short while. If the last place your phone was turned on was before you even had a chance to take a bus, surely he could've done something to prevent this mess too. Why didn't he think to stay behind today, too?

“It's not your fault,” Armin finally says, his voice just barely audible amidst the rain and thunder. He blinks up from the ground to his friend. “And we don't know what happened. We'll try the hospitals again later, we'll keep calling her in the meantime. We have Levi helping us, right?”

Eren blinks back at him, slowly gathering that Armin is trying to encourage him through reassurances, and finally nods in response as he does his best to ignore the tight lump in his throat.

“It's like three in the morning, Eren. I'm not asking you to stop. But we can't keep going like this.” He motions vaguely toward the incessant rain from above and the wet clothes sticking to their skin.

Armin stands, relieving Eren from his weight as he pushes back his hair with one hand and offers the other to his friend whose reluctance casts a shadow over his usually bright features.

Eren trains his gaze on the ground, leaving Armin's helping hand hanging for the while longer it takes for him to convince himself that Armin is right and this doesn't mean he's failing you.

Finally, Eren accepts his friend's hand, who hoists him up just as they both spot Levi's car pulling into the street from the farthest corner.

Armin motions for Eren to follow him toward the car, to which he responds with a weak nod. But just a couple of steps in, something crunches and gets caught under his shoe. Naturally, he looks down, forgetting the deluge falling over him at the moment to frown at the foreign object.

Armin glances over his shoulder, sensing his absence, and turns around fully when he realizes Eren is kneeling on the ground, cautiously picking something from the ground that ultimately dangles from his fingers once it's fully suspended in the air.

Armin retraces his steps, kneeling next to his friend to find his face pallid, and green eyes wide with fear as he stares at the broken chain between his fingers, from which hangs an angel cast in silver with a broken wing.

His features contort in horrified realization. It's almost ridiculous to turn to Eren for confirmation of what he already knows and can already begin to imagine. But when he does, the latter is already hunched over in the opposite direction, emptying his stomach onto the wet pavement while the nearing lights from Levi's car come to blind him.

Hour Fifteen

Mikasa, Jean, and Sasha step into the elevator wordlessly, the only sounds on the way to Eren's floor being the inevitable rustles from the plastic bags with food in Mikasa's hands.

Jean offered to take them, but Mikasa insisted she'd hold onto them. Maybe it's because of her cold hands, but it might also be because she needs something to help keep her grounded — literally; she feels as though she might float away otherwise. Because if anyone were to ask her, nothing has felt real since last night after Armin's call.

The elevator’s hum ceases as it comes to a gentle stop and the doors slide open.

The same somber silence continues to hover between the trio as they mechanically walk down the hall to Eren's door. Jean takes out his copy of the key from his jeans pocket and pushes the door wide open, gesturing for the girls to enter first before quietly closing the door behind them.

Spare keys aren't rare between them. It was chain reaction that stemmed from Eren's father's passing. Everyone wanted to make sure he was okay. The rest is history.

“In case of emergency.”

“Can you please water my plants while I'm gone?”

“Can you check something for me?”

“I'm really sick, just let yourself in.”

“Just keep it.”

Jean's copy has rarely been used. In fact, not many of them have made use of Eren's key once he started dating. Not that it's been a dramatic change, but now there's not much need to be wary of barging in on something they'll all laugh about later. And today, after Eren passed out on the street in the rain, it seems crucial to brush the dust off an old habit for their friend's sake.

The trio is careful not to make any excess noise — Eren might still be sleeping —, but the further they venture into the apartment, they realize their efforts are in vain.

They expected Eren to be lying on the sofa where Jean and Armin had so carefully helped him settle down, still fast asleep considering it's only been a few hours since. Although Eren's sudden nausea was a mere reaction to finding the necklace, Armin still spent a couple more hours watching over him as a precaution while he cleaned up the kitchen and dining area, and quietly left for his apartment to make another round of calls before work.

They're met with the view of their friend bustling around his work area in a corner of the living room, his brow furrowed and eyes laser focused as he refills the ink tanks on his printer. Stacks of missing person's posters cover his desk with a handful of faded ones having been scattered and crumpled on the floor as evidence of the ink shortage he's tending to. Your face occupies nearly the entirety of his immediate view, which is why a single glance is enough to distract him from his task that he doesn't notice his friends present in his apartment, nor when the ink begins to leak.

At the instinctive curse word that leaves him in a frustrated huff, Jean rushes over to help him.

“I'll handle this,” he assures Eren, who only blinks in surprise as he realizes he's not alone.

Mikasa and Sasha walk over to him unsure of whether a hug is appropriate as a greeting. In the end, they choose to speak the words instead.

Sasha leaves the conversation in exchange for helping Jean clean up the spilled ink. An irregular blob-shaped stain is left behind on the ash gray wood.

“Are you– How's your stomach?” Mikasa asks.

An uneasy grimace makes its way onto Eren's face.

“It's fine. It was just… Yeah.” He shrugs it off, unsure of how to properly explain the incident without triggering more discomfort.

Mikasa nods in understanding.

“Armin said you're going back to the police station later.”

Eren huffs at a humorless puff of air from his nose.

“Yeah. More questioning,” Eren replies, his head continuously shaking in disbelief, to which Mikasa frowns.

“What's wrong?”

It takes Eren a couple of tries to let the words out, his mouth opening and closing with hesitancy.

“They all left, Mika,” he softly murmurs, a hint of helplessness infecting his fragile voice, that births an ache in Mikasa's chest. “Nobody could say anything and they got bored. What kind of excuse is that?”

Mikasa drops her gaze to her shoes, submitting before the hurt and impotence Eren's words awake in her.

Then she shakes her head briefly, recalling a good thing.

“Levi's on the case… and there's evidence for foul play now, there's a lead,” she says, trying her hardest to appear more hopeful at each thing on her list. “He'll find her, Eren. This'll just be nothing but a bad memory soon.”

She smiles, but it comes out sad from the red that tints her waterline.

Eren doesn't have the energy to try to appear cheerful from her encouragement, and limits himself to a nod.

“Eren, how long have you been up?” Sasha asks with concern from his desk, where her eyes scan over his computer screen and the stacks of paper with your face printed front and center.

“A few hours?” Eren replies with a shrug, to which everyone else exchanges concerned glances.

Jean breaks the silence with a loud clap, refusing to make way for any awkwardness in the air.

“We brought you some food, buddy. Come on, let's eat.”

Sasha eagerly nods, her enthusiasm a bit too stiff it almost seems rehearsed, as she encourages him to follow them to the dining table.

Eren allows himself to be tugged along for a couple of steps before he tethers himself to his spot for a moment and then decidedly takes a step back under everyone's puzzled expressions.

“I'm not really hungry,” he murmurs, shaking his head.

“Are you sure?” Mikasa gently asks.

“We got your favorite soup,” Jean smiles, though Eren is too busy staring at a blank point to notice. “Minestrone.”

“Extra parmesan,” Sasha adds.

“It's fine.” Eren assures them with a forced smile. “You guys eat. I have a lot of things to do.”

“Well, you can't do them on an empty stomach. Let's eat and then we'll go through your to-do list together,” Jean insists.

“Yeah,” Mikasa agrees, shooting a grateful smile to her fiancé. “Jean can drive you to the station after breakfast and Sasha and I can handle the rest.”

Every offer is sensible and comforting, but Eren still refuses. He can't eat, not when you still haven't come home.

“No…” his voice trembles ever so slightly as his eyes wander around the room, as if looking for an excuse. He ultimately makes his way back to his desk, where the stacks of posters await him. “I'll just head out now. I'm gonna hand some of these out before going to the station.”

The rejected trio exchange another round of anxious, meaningful looks. Mikasa's the first to break away from the group to join Eren in gathering a stack of flyers and a roll of tape from the black metal organizer on his desk.

As her hands roam around the surface of the ash gray wood, the jewel on her finger catches the sunlight peeking through the curtains.

Eren's movements grow slow as his focus is stolen by the silver engagement ring.

Mikasa notices the pause in his movements from the corner of her eye, and looks up at him to assess his status. Eren tears his gaze from her ring — embarrassed —, but not fast enough for it to go unnoticed, nor does he remember to ease his hardened jaw afterwards. He moves in silence and sets a fast pace toward the door, leaving an anguished Mikasa to trail at his heel.

Hour Twenty

It takes a handful of hours for Eren to get back home from the station, with a significant reduction to the baggage he left with. The stream of questions would've been fairly simple had he not been charged with so many uneasy feelings as to why he was doing all of it in the first place. It certainly didn't help that he had to face the same people who had simply left this morning. But he has to do things right — even if it means swallowing his anger to contribute with any useful information.

Social media presence, daily routines, bus routes, habits, friends, family situation.

Saying you know someone like the back of your hand is an odd saying, he thinks. He's not that vain to spend lengthy periods of time observing himself. In his case, it suffices to say he simply knows you — all he's done is look at you.

He knows your hands quite well. The shape of your fingers, the curves of your knuckles and the warmth of your palms when they latch onto his heartbeat and manipulate it to your will. And now what's been left since last night is a painful cavity. It's all wrong. Your hand should be here, filling his void.

The apartment is empty, Jean and Sasha long gone. The plastic bags have been folded into neat triangles and the counter has been cleared. Upon opening the fridge, Eren finds stacks of containers that have been added to those Armin helped put away the previous night from the uncelebrated dinner.

He stares at his packed fridge for a long time, any energy to step away vanishing into thin air and leaving him stuck in place, looking straight ahead until he no longer recognizes the shape of anything inside, and he grows numb at the cold air that slowly envelops him.

A ring from his pocket is what finally pulls him out of his daze and he's quick to whip the device out and accept the incoming call with pure urgency and no thought.

“I'm only assuming you've been too excited to call me to tell me how it went last night,” Carla's playfully accusing tone comes through the speaker.

“Mom,” Eren pronounces in a voice so soft, yet empty as he only acknowledges it's her, but any word that bounces off his tongue is devoid of meaning until he can speak the name he wants to.

“So,” Carla's enthusiastic grin is evident through the phone. “Was she thrilled? What did she say?”

Eren's voice fails him.

In all the anxiety and chaos, with all the things he's had to do within the last twenty hours, he completely forgot to tell his mother what had happened and that moment is catching up to him now.

His lips roll inwards, a habit reserved for when he's feeling shy because of things you say or do, and now has come back because of his lack of words — or rather the will to expel them.

His hand comes up to his hair, his fingers brushing his hair back as he struggles to find his voice.

It's only when Eren takes a second too long to reply that a shift in mood can be sensed from Carla's end of the line.

“Eren,” she calls him carefully, which only makes the lump in his throat grow. “Honey, what's wrong?”

“Mom,” is all Eren can muster, voice cracking as he pushes the word out.

“Did you have a fight? Is everything okay?” Carla's concern amplifies through the speaker, as something rustles in the background, a sign that she's taken on a more alert position.

“You didn't break up, did you?”

Out of all the things that could've gone wrong last night, Eren wishes that had been it. At least he wouldn't be as helpless. At least he'd know where you are. At least it's something he could reverse.

“No.”

The word comes out choked, his throat instantly sore for the second time.

His monosyllabic replies must be getting to her, because Carla takes a deep breath before trying again.

“Eren, honey. You have to speak clearly, okay?” Carla's voice grows gentle, as it always has whenever Eren would have trouble speaking his mind. Granted, that's been lost as he got older, but Carla's sweet attention hasn't. “What happened?”

Her patient voice finally manages to coax the lodged words from Eren's throat.

“I don't know where she is. She's missing.”

Hour Twenty-four

Rain is bad for detective work. Eren heard about it in a documentary or a podcast, or maybe he read it somewhere — he can't remember. But it supposedly washes away any evidence, making easy cases tricky and difficult cases nearly impossible. Considering the silver angel necklace was found in the midst of the sky falling, it comes as no surprise when he comes home from a casual meet up with Levi at a nearby coffee shop with the news that no DNA or signs of a struggle were found on site after a thorough search in the light of day. The other half of the broken angel wing was found stuck on the edge of a sewer grate, though. Eren would feel any comfort at all if it meant it would lead to something. But at least the necklace can be fixed for when he finds you and this is all over.

The necklace is pretty much a dead end, but it'll remain under the police's hold just in case.

Eren has never gone so long without seeing your face. Now that the clock has found its way back to the hour you were supposed to walk through his door, it's unbearable to know that you won't. And still he looks over in its direction every few minutes, expecting you to burst in and throw yourself into his embrace, marking the end to a day-long fever dream.

That's probably it. A dream. No, a nightmare. It's nothing but a wicked play of his subconscious — to teach him a lesson on appreciating you more. Maybe to scare him into doing a better job of protecting you. Maybe he's gotten too lax, too careless. After all, the city hasn't been terrorized by any violent crimes in the last few months. But that's no excuse to dismiss the possibility of danger. Right… There was a killer last year. Two murders. No suspects. No arrests. And there was a burglary just last night. So what if…

No.

Eren pulls at his hair, agitated by where his mind is leading him. He pulls hard on the strands, like they're the reins of his thoughts that he needs to redirect onto a less horrifying path.

His phone dings as if on cue with a text message.

I'll be there soon, honey. Get some rest, I'll call you tomorrow. I love you.

A tap on the attached file opens up a copy of a plane ticket for the day after tomorrow under the name Carla Jaeger.

His heart feels a tad lighter.

It'll help to have his mother around for a few days. He types his gratitude into his phone and presses send.

He lets his face fall into his hands as he hunches over his desk.

Everything will be okay, he repeats to himself in his head like a mantra.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Everything will be okay.

Outside, rain starts to fall.

Hour Thirty

The rain has been on and off for hours.

By the time Eren reconnected with his surroundings, ready to go out and look for clues on his own around the area, the rain was nearly as heavy as it was at three in the morning.

He sits by the living room window, watching the downpour. His phone is charging on a wooden stool next to him, taking a break from another round of calls to nearby hospitals to ask for any patients bearing your name. Still no.

His stomach has been growling for a while, but any energy he possesses isn't the kind that'll get him off his chair and into the kitchen — it's the kind that's meant to be used to stare out the window and grow numb over any trivial needs.

It's fine, he thinks. It'll pass.

Hour Thirty-seven

All five of his friends come through the door a little past seven in the morning, with bags of fresh meals to share.

Eren sits down this time, allowing Mikasa to fix him a plate and Connie to pour him a glass of juice.

Nobody mentions the dark circles under his eyes, and Eren's gaze is too lost on a blank point to sense the meaningful glances exchanged all around him.

There's not much room for conversation. Any sense of normalcy is lost in the thick air. It seems equally wrong to create a lighthearted break for the length of a meal as it is to talk about the empty seat across from Eren when everyone is trying so hard to make sure he's at the very least feeding himself.

Eren merely pokes and stirs at his food with his fork the entire time. There's a fresh stack of flyers on his desk that demand more urgency in his eyes than sitting down to eat.

His demeanor is easy to read by everyone at the table, yet another round of concerned glances and subtle nods in his direction being tossed around with silent messages.

In the end, nobody says a thing and the groups is broken off in pairs to tackle the surrounding neighborhoods.

Hour Forty-five

Nobody has called. Not him or the station. As the only person outside of the police to be contacted for any updates, his phone should've rung at least once. But aside from yesterday's encounter with Levi and his visits to the station to see if his presence alone will bring something up, there's been a drought in leads. And despite his determination in making sure every person he passes knows anything, there's still nothing.

It's been hours since his stomach has demanded his attention. It's finally reached the point where it's so empty, it's gone numb. His body is running on nothing more than sheer will and water.

He should at least try to eat, test if he can hold any food down.

The fridge remains packed with food, even more now thanks to what's been gathered from his morning visits.

Ever so slowly, with overly cautious movements, he takes out a container, transports it to the counter and peels off the lid. It's from the dinner you were supposed to share two nights ago.

His lips tremble, eyebrows upturning for the split second it takes him to grasp back at his composure. An outsider would think he's glaring at his leftovers, disgusted at whatever is inside, completely misunderstanding the mental ordeal he's traversing as he takes several deep breaths.

He pulls out a stool from the breakfast bar, sits down and stares.

Hour Forty-eight

It's been two whole days since Eren has stepped foot in his own bedroom.

His feet drag him toward the bed without stopping to flip the light switch. Though the night is cloudy, signaling another shower for tonight, the moonlight still finds its way into the room just enough for his eyes to take in the most basic shapes of his furniture.

He comes to a stop at the foot of the bed, and his gaze zeroes in on the neatly folded white cotton fabric set on the corner. It's the shirt you slept in two nights ago, the one that's the wrong size because it's his and he likes his clothes to be just a bit baggy.

It's the shirt he gently tugged off your body to feel your skin pressed against his. The one that you take care in folding even if you're in a rush and even though he'll throw it in the wash anyway.

His fingers slowly reach out to collect the fabric.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

It still smells like you. Just barely — a mere scrap of notes that have faded over the last two days. A mix of vanilla, citrus and a faint trace of eucalyptus fabric softener.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Breathe, Eren.

It doesn't work. The air is too thick. It gets caught in his throat and forces a choked sob on its way back out.

His face contorts in anguish as he falls onto the bed, curled up in an attempt to make himself as small as humanly possible, with your shirt clutched in his hands as the world outside darkens and he simply weeps.

Previous chapter | Next chapter (tba)

Minors and ageless blogs who interact will be blocked

Notes: Tunnel Vision will continue, just not with the same schedule it had before my hiatus. I’ll be adding word count and progress updates in the chapter guide in case you want to keep up with the story in that way (It’ll also give you an estimate of when the next chapter will be posted. I have ideas for some ficlets, which I’ll do my best to post in between TV updates just so I don’t leave you all hanging with Eren content. It’ll depend a lot on whether I see any enthusiasm for it or not though (aka comments and reblogs that aren’t… well… empty). In the meantime, thank you for the support and feel free to slip into my ask box to chat :)

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#aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #eren yeager x reader #aot x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger fluff #eren jaeger fanfiction #eren jaeger x y/n #eren yeager fanfiction #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x y/n #eren jaeger x you #aot x y/n #snk x reader #snk x you #snk x y/n

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fbfh · 2 months

Text

Curiosity is a Wonderful thing ch. 10

wc: 1.8k

genre: slow burn, little angst, childhood best friends to lovers

pairing: slow burn bff!ben x fem daughter of alice!reader, previously audrey x ben, mal x ben???? yikes!

warnings: political lore and descendants world building from yours truly lol, I think that's it??? minor angst???

summary: determined to figure out what's going on with ben, you remember that many paws make light work.

song recs: dirty paws - of monsters and men, hartebeest - yaelokre, a world of my own - kathryn beaumont

a/n: HI HELLO DADDIES HELLO MY DADDIES HI HELLO also I started watching it's always sunny and every goddamn thing out of charlie's mouth is a vocal stim. I can't go more than two seconds without going HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY. LOOK AT ME GIVE ME EYES. COOL YOUR JETS. NOW GET OUTTA HERE. I love him.

ALSO!!!!!!!! happy 23rd b-day to meself!!!! does a little jester dance while I simultaneously give a thumbs down from the king chair, opening a trapped door and throwing my jester self into a deep dark pit full of lions and poorly made iced americanos.

tags @yesv01@magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sunshineangel-reads @dustyinkpages @inejsknifes @tulipmagnoliaisme @ev3ningrain @yokolesbianism lmk if I missed you and I'll add you to the tag list yell at me in the notes /j (also my dearest yokolesbianism!!!!! thank you so fuckin much for the feedback!!!!!! based on your tags I assumed you'd wanna be tagged?? just shoot me an ask or message if this is not the case lol <333)

You haven’t given much thought to anything besides your research since it began, but if you had, you suppose you would notice you’ve been holed up in the library for every hour it’s been open for a few days, at least. Each waking moment has been spent pouring through text after text, desperately seeking anything that could prove useful in answering the question of Ben’s behavior.

The first few books proved to be utterly useless for anything besides sharpening your researching skills. You slam the most recent book closed and lean back in your chair, letting out a sigh of frustration. As much as you hate to admit it - even to yourself - you must begrudgingly admit that you need help.

You let out another sigh, and stand up. A good long sigh seems to be your only weapon against the inconsolable frustration burbling within you turmoilously. You stretch your aching legs and arms, hoping your blood hasn’t stopped circulating entirely, and throw the window open. You take in a big, deep breath of spring air.

The scent of gardenia and hibiscus floats along the breeze and into your chest, and you glance down at the flowering culprits below the window.

Your mind wanders and races in a blurry stumble. There must be some way for you to get information, to get some extra hands on this without getting anyone else directly involved. You never expected to find yourself facing such a fragile, treacherous situation, much less having to navigate it yourself. Without Ben.

You rub at your aching head, trying to make heads or snails of all this. Your mind reels in a blurry stupor at the dangerous situation your country has found itself in without even realizing this to be the case. You take another big, deep breath.

“Alright.” You tell yourself with a note of finality, like perhaps if you say it enough things will be just that. Alright.

There are two heads to this chimera of a situation you’ve found yourself in. Firstly, you have to figure out how to monitor Ben. His words, his actions, if he suddenly decides to shave his head and run about nude. Whatever it is, you must be the first to know. Perhaps if you find a way to stay on top of whatever his next erratic decisions will be, you can find a way to smooth things over, to fix things before they have a chance to snowball wildly out of control.

The other thing you must consider - arguably, of more importance - is why? Why is he acting like this? As much as you resist confronting the feeling, you can’t shake the sense that this is some sort of political sabotage. It wouldn’t be the first time Ben was caught in the crossfires of political unrest. There was a very tense 8 days when you were both nearly too young to remember where Ben had been kidnapped by a group of radicalist former henchmen. They were convinced that Chernabog was sending them secret messages, and were responsible for the next villain uprising.

This, of course, was untrue and Ben was returned unscathed. The henchmen were understandably sent to the Isle, and Chernabog’s whereabouts are still unknown. There’s some debate over the nature of his crimes, if he’s truly evil or just appears to be scary. You and your mother know right where you stand on the issue - while he appears terrifying, and has incredible amounts of power, you have yet to find any evidence that he wants to cause harm.

You understand why Overlandians are so quick to fear what they don’t know, but one cannot control their size nor the strength of their power, so your mother has urged the Auradon government to let sleeping gods lie. Besides, Chernabog hasn’t been around for half a century, and won’t be seen for another half century at least, so it’s really the least of anyone’s worries right now.

You snap from your train of thought, returning to the matter afoot. You must keep tabs on Ben, and find some explanation for why he could be acting like this. You already have so many bites that are far too big, and you have no clue how you’ll chew your way through this by yourself. You’re about to go back when you see a bluebird sitting on the tree branch outside the window. She preens her feathers, enjoying the warm sunlight dappling through the lush green leaves that partially hide her from view. You lean out of the window, your sleeves rippling in the breeze.

“Excuse me!” You call out. She chirps inquisitively as you get her attention.

“I do hate to bother you, but I’m stuck in quite a muddling lurch. It’s all quite convoluted you see, and as much as I hate to admit it, I fear I’ve reached a point where I simply don’t have enough hands to handle it all.”

She quirks her head at you, hopping a little closer and lending an ear as you begin to explain the whole kerfuffle. You try to be as concise and clear as you can, but you take after your mother quite well. You get a little sidetracked here or worked up there, and find yourself rambling a great good deal more than you would have liked to.

By the time you’re just about through with your explanation, you’ve had to pull out a lacy embroidered handkerchief, then soon after, another one for the bluebird. She’s grown quite invested in your woes, and it feels so good to be able to weep wetly over this with someone who shares your feelings. You try in vain to dry your eyes, and she holds her hankie tightly with her feathers, blowing her beak with a loud noise.

“So you see, this whole thing is quite unusual. I just don’t know what to do, or how to fix things.” You look at her compassionate face, nodding and chirping in sympathy.

“Do you think…” You begin, “Do you perhaps have any friends that could keep ears and eyes open for anything odd, or relating to all this? If you could possibly keep an ear to the ground - or sky - and let me know if there’s anything unusual, I would be most grateful.”

She nods, tweeting in agreement before you can even finish your proposal. She fluffs her feathers and wrings out your hankie, sprinkling salty tears onto the walkway below and hangs it up on a branch to dry out. She salutes you, and you wave at her as she flies off to spread the word.

“Thank you!” You call after her. She chirps back at you, and you watch her land a few trees over, discussing the topic with some other birds in the branches. You grip the windowsill resolutely. This is good. This was a good plan. Animal communication takes a great deal of work on both ends, so as long as no particularly gossipy stoats or chickadees get a hold of this, you’ll be alright.

Besides, animals generally tend to prefer gossiping with other animals rather than humans. Overlandians never seem to understand the gravitas of the social politics of the forest. Despite the word traveling fast, you can’t shake the feeling you need more. More eyes, more ears, more furry feet and paws and claws spreading the word. You straighten up abruptly, returning to your table. You scribble a hasty note on a piece of paper, and prop it up against your stacks and stacks of useless - in this instance, anyway - books.

gone for tea, be back in three

You’re known for ducking in and out for tea now and again, and you’re sure this will come as no surprise to the librarians. You rush down the steps and out of the library, into the grassy courtyard. It feels like forever since you’ve been outside, and you miss leisurely strolls and reading in the dappled sunlight. But regrettably, now is simply not the time for leisure. You walk around for a few minutes, searching and looking until you see a cat lying on a garden wall, bathing in the sun.

“I beg your pardon,” you start, and the cat opens one sleepy eye. You take a breath and begin explaining the situation all over again. You’re pleased to find a little bit of the sting is gone this time. Just a little. Soon you have his full attention, and his tail flicks in sympathetic irritation for you, for having gone through all this.

“So if you could spread the word to some friends, keep me informed on anything you think might prove useful” You ask hopefully.

He pretends to consider for a moment, then agrees, hopping down from the wall and arching his back in a big stretch. He scurries off to spread the word as you make your way into the gardens for similar reasons. You traipse through the hedge maze, feeling a momentary solace in becoming lost so quickly. Soon you find just what you’re looking for, and after a similar conversation with a mother rabbit, you allow yourself to return to the library.

You return to your research with more gumption than you had had before. You feel a sense of reassurance - a much needed one, at that - that all these kind animals and their friends and relations had agreed to help you and your cause. Soon after, nearly every cat and rabbit are doing reconnaissance for you. Dozens of bluebirds follow students and linger by windows in hopes of overhearing something useful. With all these ears to the ground and sky, you lose yourself in your fruitless research once again.

When the words begin to look jumbled and meaningless (and not in the good way) you know you absolutely must call it a day. You close your books and place them neatly in the return cart, scratching out titles from your list of Potentially Helpful Books in your journal. More and more pages have become dedicated to this heart aching mystery, though you have few clues, and fewer leads. You ruminate on this as you begin to head for your dorm, nearly tripping over a speckled rabbit.

He thumps his foot loudly to get your attention, and you startle. “Oh, hello,” you say apologetically, crouching down to speak with him. You listen intently to what he tells you, your stomach dropping in the early evening light.

Ben and Mal are on a date at the enchanted lake as you speak.

#curiosity is a wonderful thing #descendants #descendants x reader #ben florian #ben florian x reader #daughter of alice!reader #daughter of alice #descendants fanfiction #also hbd self!!!!!#love your 22 for 12 more days self ;*#xoxo gossip girl

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thejujvtsupost · 7 months

Text

My Blood Looks Good On You -> The Beginning

Filling in for a coworker who you moonlight with might lead you directly where you didn’t know you needed.

Notes: F!reader, Pro boxer!Toji, light age gap (Toji is early 30's and reader is mid 20's), pet names (angel, baby, sweetheart), reader is smaller than Toji, reader is a nurse, light violence (boxing injuries). <3 lmk if you want to be added to the tag list!

Technically you weren’t supposed to moonlight, it was against the policy of your job at the hospital to be employed by another healthcare company. Unfortunately you needed the money, so for the last two months you’ve been moonlighting at an independent hospital secretly.

You were careful, no one would find out. Which is why your current situation put you on edge…

Your friend, Shoko, stays on hand at some boxing gym on her days off from the independent facility- and Shoko had the flu and desperately needed you to fill in for her.

“Please? You’re the only other nurse certified for stitches and meds. I’ll do all your charting for a week, it’s just one night. All you have to do is meet up with Geto, he’s got long dark hair and I’ll text him so he’ll wait by the back door for you, then go to the locker room and treat Fushiguro. He’s hard headed and a little cold and barely talks to me but not so bad, and the gig pays more than six shifts combined.

You were helpless, naturally a people pleaser and unable to say no to a friend- or that money. There was a match tonight, someone would no doubt need care. But going to a high profile event would only make it harder for you. What if one of your coworkers saw you? You’d be toast. It would be fine, you just keep your head low and follow directions and nothing would go wrong.

The event already started and was close to finishing by the time you got to the door, and just like Shoko said there was a man waiting for you. “You the nurse?“

“Yes?” You give him your name but its hard to sound confident in front of such a large man and he chuckled at your nervousness.

“I’m Suguru. Relax, you aren’t the one in the ring. Toji’s already taken a few hits so far, might as well get set up in the locker room.”

He lead you through several hallways, the crowd cheering loudly, until you reached the locker room. “Does Mr. Fushiguro know I’m here in Shoko’s place? I don’t know if it makes a difference or if he has a preference- but she said he can be…”

“An asshole? Oh yeah, that’s Toji. But he’s not a bad guy, just a little rough around the edges. If he says something to you just brush it off, though he might not talk to you at all. I told him someone else would be coming but it takes him a while before he accepts newcomers.”

“I was gonna say cold, but thanks for the heads up.”

You set your medical bag on the bench and Suguru wheeled over a cart for you to work off of. “Thank you, anything else I should know about?”

“Don’t be too stiff and professional, he hates that shit. So just relax and do your thing, and don’t stare at his scar too long. I figure you know better as a nurse but it’s worth saying.”

“Got it. Do you have a sink? I’d like a bowl of water just in case I need to clean blood away.”

“You got it, he should be coming back here any minute. He showers first.” You nodded and set your supplies out for easy access, then washed your hands in the sink Suguru used for the water.

The door banged open and the sound of several sets of feet barged into the room afterward like a stampede; everyone trying to get Toji’s attention before they were pushed out by Suguru and another man you didn’t know.

You only got a glimpse of him, but Toji was huge. You didn’t know a guy could get that muscular…

Suguru noticed your face and laughed, “I’ll introduce you, he’s in a good mood too. He won, he always wins but his competitor was tough this match.”

Standing out of the way was a good idea while people in various roles made themselves busy, you made yourself invisible until almost everyone was out and Toji was dressed from the waist down with a towel around his neck and ready for treatment.

And oh… okay, you weren’t prepared for how attractive this man actually was… and you were staring. And by the smirk he was sporting, he noticed.

Thankfully Suguru prevented you from further embarrassment by giving him your name, “This is Shoko’s friend, she’s a trained medic and nurse like Shoko so she’s very capable.”

Toji was eyeing you up, and you did your best to put forward your confidence. “I’d like to disinfect-”

“Do your thing sweetheart, don’t need to explain everything.” He was talking smoothly for someone with a busted lip.

You nodded and ignored your blush at the nickname, and began pulling on gloves. You hated causing anyone pain but the cuts needed cleaned. His occupation meant he probably wouldn’t even flinch but it didn’t help the pit you’d feel in your stomach every time you had to do sutures or disinfectant procedures.

“Turn your head to the left please.”

Toji complied, “You just wanna look at my good side, huh?”

Was he… was he flirting with you? Wasn’t he supposed to be cold and grumpy? You looked to Suguru for help but he seemed amused. “Quit flirtin’ and let her do her job, you’re still bleeding y’know.”

“I think you’re just mad I’m talking her up before you can.”

That made you snort and immediately clear your throat to unsuccessfully cover it. “See? I’m already makin’ her laugh.”

“This is going to sting.” Your hand was ready with a cotton ball of disinfectant for the cut on his temple.

“Not when I’m looking at you- ow! fuck! What the hell is that?”

Suguru couldn’t contain his laughter and it echoed off the lockers. “Mostly alcohol, I have some stick on sutures for it after it’s dry. Other than your lip and temple, is anywhere else hurt?”

Toji waved his hand, “Nah, he didn’t get much of a chance to hit me before I took him out.”

You made quick work of the cut and swapped out your supplies, luck wasn’t on your side though, when you turned around and fell directly into him. Your heads collided (earning a groan from both of you) but he caught you around the waist otherwise. “Fallin’ for me already sweetheart?”

He was definitely flirting with you, Shoko must’ve been joking about him being closed off. “I am so sorry, I can’t believe I just did that- oh god your lip is bleeding everywhere!” You were fiercely embarrassed by your own clumsiness, flustered and trying to free yourself from Toji’s hold but he wouldn’t let go.

“Hey s’not a big deal. I’m hard headed though, you’re not hurt?” He sounded so concerned, so genuine. It made your heart race just the tiniest bit. “Huh…”

You were still too discombobulated to school your demeanor. You’ve never had a problem being professional, this man was effecting you way too much. “What? You gotta let me go so I can go gauze before you die from blood loss!”

“You got my blood on your cheek, it’s kinda hot.”

Yeah, you wanted to crawl in a hole and die. “Oh my god this is a disaster. I’m so sorry, just let me finish up?”

Toji didn’t stop staring at you (which was unnerving) while you finished treating him. “Sorry again! Shoko should be feeling better in a few days, I’ll make sure she knows about your cuts!”

The bag you came in with was packed away and the used materials discarded, without another word you beelined for the door. “Hold it!”

Your body betrayed you and listened. “Suguru get her number. That okay with you sweetheart?” His voice was much softer when directed at you.

You nodded and texted the number Suguru gave to exchange your information, and saved the contact. Technically they could call Shoko if they had concerns but still, she was sick and you were the one that treated him.

When you bid them goodbye and finally made it out in the fresh air you took your first deep breath in what felt like hours.

It was useless, because not two minutes later on your way to the station, someone ran into full force and knocked the wind out of you when you fell.

“Jeez you shouldn’t run-” and truly, you wish you hadn’t looked up.

Because right in front of you- the man that knocked you over while you were holding a full medical bag and wearing a jacket with a different company logo, was your boss. Tonight really wasn’t your night.

Fuck, you were caught.

• Series Index -> Next

Thinking about making your request? Check my bio to see if they’re open !

#jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #reader insert #jjk x reader #no use of y/n #toji x y/n #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro #pro boxer! toji #boxer toji au #boxer au

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ihavemanyhusbands · 2 years

Text

I Need You Pt. 2 (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

Part 1 can be found here

Aaron finally comes to his senses about your relationship.

Special tag for @hotchsdoormat

WC: 2.5k words

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Swearing, angst (light stuff tho), some alcohol consumption, idk what else but lmk if I need to add anything!

A/N: Screaming and crying and yearning and throwing up pls enjoy

The next month and a half passed by quietly.

Aaron had been gone before you woke up, just like he said he would. In a state of half-consciousness, you registered his heat leaving your side. You’d stayed in bed all day after that, watching the last trickles of the storm trailing down your window.

He took the rain with him when he left. Now the world was just bleak and gray, but at least it was dry. It was cold too, and even layering sweaters barely helped.

The withdrawals that came with his absence felt different too, much more intense. Perhaps it was due to the fact that the night ended so ambiguously. You couldn’t help but feel like something had changed – something important enough that it couldn’t really be ignored. Could it have been his way of actually saying goodbye?

Once that thought entered your mind, it was impossible to get it out.

Other times, missing him was a hollow sort of ache that you could feel somewhere in your chest. It waned as the days progressed, until you were distracted enough with your daily routine. It was easier to forget, then. Not entirely, but at least to a bearable degree.

Back then, you blindly believed he would always come back. Now you weren’t so sure. No guarantee of anything, he’d said.

But one thing that didn’t change was you not even trying to contact him. Usually, you’d let him contact you first, not wanting to interfere with his work. Even when you were at your most desperate, you would not allow yourself to even text him.

You figured maybe he needed some space, anyway. The best thing to do was try to find a way to keep your mind fully occupied and away from him.

Every day, you ran the same course you always took through your neighborhood. You avoided passing by his house, not even wanting to see if his car was there. You also avoided the spot you’d met him at, just in case. Luckily, and also much to your dismay, you never ran into him.

You assumed that meant he was away on a case once more.

And so you dove into your work, often doing overtime. You tried to see your friends more often as well, and you’d let one or two strangers buy you a drink at a bar, but nothing more. The idea of meaningless sex didn’t appeal to you, even if it was a form of escape.

Though most nights, your tremulous, fragile heart would betray you, and you’d lie awake yearning. You’d try to recall the deep, smooth timbre of his voice; The way butterflies would burst in your stomach whenever you made him laugh. The safety of his embrace and the fervor of his kisses…

You wondered if Aaron was ever in the same position, thinking of you. It was doubtful, given his focus had to be elsewhere, on much more important things.

Then one night, you went to a small, local pub with two of your friends, and the sight you met there made you momentarily freeze like a deer in headlights.

Aaron was sitting at one of the round tables with a group of people. You didn’t know any of them, but you assumed they might be colleagues of his. His dark eyes found you mere seconds after, widening a little.

Despite your panic, you couldn’t very well leave after having just gotten there. It would be entirely too suspicious, and your nosey friends would likely cause a minor scene trying to get an answer out of you.

Plus, you had every right to be there too; It was a public space, after all.

You forced your face to remain a cool mask of indifference, your eyes skating away quickly to avoid giving away that the two of you knew each other. Intimately.

“First round’s on me!” Your friend Julia announced, leading your small group to the bar.

You could still feel his gaze on you as you slipped onto a barstool, the hairs on the back of your neck standing in awareness. Your skirt rode up a little, revealing more of your thigh, which he did not fail to notice.

But you did not look back at him, trying to pretend that nothing was amiss.

Of course, Julia ordered shots of vodka. The three of you clinked glasses before downing them, and you grimaced a little as it burned its way down your throat. The first drink of the night was always the roughest, but you knew you’d soon feel its languid fire spread through you.

The night would be much easier to bear not being fully sober, you figured.

“We should get you laid tonight,” Phoebe, your other friend, said while playfully elbowing you on the side. “Been a while hasn’t it?”

No, not really.

“I guess…” You offered tentatively. “But I’m fine, really. The chastity belt suits me.”

“Hmm, well, I don’t know. You might wanna reconsider. There’s a couple really cute guys here,” Julia said, leaning against the bar. “There’s one that keeps looking over here. And hot damn, that is one fine man.”

You glanced in the direction Julia was looking, and sure enough, you saw Aaron turning away right when your eyes landed on him.

He looked sharp, as usual, never entirely relaxed even in a place like this. He still wore his tie and slacks, but he’d shed his jacket, draping it on the back of his chair. His hair was perfectly gelled, and you had the sudden urge to run your fingers through it and completely mess it up.

“That he is,” you agreed, exhaling slowly. “So, I don’t suppose either of you wanna play darts with me?”

Both of them shook their heads, apologetic grins on their faces.

“Sorry babe,” Julia said sheepishly. “We’ll wait for you right here, though.”

You hopped off the stool and made your way over to the dart boards. You weren’t bad at the game, but you weren’t great, either. Still, you liked it because it was fun, and it was a great distraction.

As you threw the first couple of darts, you swayed a little to the music — West End Girls by the Pet Shop Boys was playing. It was one of your favorites.

“Mind if I join you?” A deep, familiar voice said behind you, sending shivers down your spine.

You looked over your shoulder if only to confirm it was him. Your eyes met Aaron’s dark ones, and even if your heart started racing, both of you pretended not to be anything more than strangers.

“Fair warning, though. I can be pretty competitive,” he added, the ghost of a smile on his handsome face.

It was uncharacteristic of him to take such risks. Especially since his team was nearby, but having you so close rendered him helpless. Even you weren’t sure if this was a good idea — considering you were also hurt over how everything went down — but for the time being, you let it slide.

“Maybe,” you smirked just a little. “But you seem like the type that would still let me win.”

From the bar, you could hear a loud wolf-whistle, followed by giggling. You looked over to see your friends smiling knowingly in your direction. Phoebe wagged her eyebrows comically as Julia shot you a thumbs up.

You rolled your eyes playfully, blushing fiercely. Aaron found that an incredibly endearing sight, and his fingers twitched as he fought the need to reach out to you.

“Are you, um, sure this is okay?” You whispered.

He nodded with a small shrug. “Seeing such a pretty girl as yourself, well, I couldn’t let the opportunity pass. I’m sure that anyone could understand that.”

You huffed a little in amusement. “Just chatting me up is all?”

“I think I’m pretty lucky to just be talking to you.”

You looked back up at him then, and there was something dangerously close to affection in your gaze. There was yearning there too, clear as day.

He felt a pang of guilt. Was this even fair of him? Maybe he was a selfish man, subjecting you to such a confusing push and pull, but he was weak. He’d not lied once when he said he needed you, no matter how long the two of you spent apart.

He couldn’t get you out of his mind since the last time you saw each other. He wondered what you would get up to while he was away, hoping that you were doing well. It was incredibly hard not to reach out to you, to call just to hear your voice.

But he found some solace in the fact that he was doing his part — however small it may seem — to make the world a safer place, especially for you.

“Think you and your friends are gonna need a ride home later?” He asked, lining up his shot before throwing his first dart. “It’d be safer than a cab.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure that’s a good idea…” you said, gazing intently at the look of concentration on his face.

Brows drawing together, eyes narrowing, tongue darting out to absently lick his lips. God, it was unfair how fucking hot he was.

“Why’s that?” He asked.

“Well, I guess for starters… I’m not letting you off the hook that easily this time,” you crossed your arms over your chest, but still trying to keep your posture casual for any onlookers. “And maybe you were right about me. Maybe I do want something more.”

You hadn’t known until that moment that you would finally be putting your foot down, but you were glad that you did.It was either everything or nothing, for the in between was too gruesome to live through.

Truthfully, that'd been on his mind a lot, too. How much he wanted to just cave in and officially make you his. Not being with you made less and less sense to him with each passing day.

Maybe it was the reason he’d stood up from his seat at the table that night, like it was fate.

He stepped to the side to let you throw, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Well, that is a conversation that I want to re-open… if you’re still willing to have it,” he said, letting his eyes rake over you longingly. “And an apology on my part is due. Don’t think I don’t know that.”

You hummed in thought, not ready to relent yet. “Is it the begging kind of apology?”

“I can beg,” he said quickly. “On my knees and everything.”

“Cheeky,” you shook your head, unable to stop the smile that crept to your lips. “I’ll consider it if you buy me a drink.”

“Coming right up,” he said, also smiling. “Is this a bad time to say that you look ravishing when you’re angry at me?”

You glared at him half-heartedly, and he chuckled, making his way to the bar.

—---------------------------

Of course you caved. You always knew you would, but not too easily. And of course, not yet all the way.

When you finally made it back home – your friends also in the safety of their respective apartments – you didn’t let Aaron get past the foyer. He raised an eyebrow in question, and you crossed your arms over your chest, silently waiting. He took a step forward, almost as if to test you, but you did not waver.

You glanced down at the floor to clue him, tilting your head to the side in a silent dare to challenge you. Realization crossed his face and slowly, he sank down to his knees. What a marvelous sight he was, his face tilted up towards you, dark brown eyes glittering in the low light. There was hunger in his gaze, yes, as well as devotion. But there was also fear swimming in its depths, the kind you only find if you’re really looking.

You found it, too, in his pursed lips. He understood how precarious the situation was, and he’d probably not have another shot if things didn’t go well. He had to choose his words carefully.

“Something you wanna say?” You prompted, unrelenting.

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. For a moment, you wanted to reach out and caress his face, to soothe him, but you promised yourself not to touch him until he begged.

“I want to say I’m sorry… but sorry doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he started. “I was an absolute fool. I took you for granted, I let my fear and my pride get in the way, and toyed with you in the process. I did not appreciate you nearly as much as I should have… But my ultimate sin was letting you believe I did not care about you other than on a carnal level.”

He shut his eyes for a moment, regret all over his features. You balled your hands into tight fists to keep them from shaking, barely able to breathe.

“Every morning the sun sears the image of you in my mind, and every night your voice plagues my dreams. It feels as though I am losing my mind,” he chuckled a little, shaking his head in disbelief. “And that’s why I’m fucking terrified. What the hell am I supposed to do if something were to happen to you? How the hell am I supposed to go on?”

You inched closer, the need to touch him almost overbearing. Your heart brimmed with an influx of emotions you could barely describe, coursing through you with every rapid beat.

“I’ve admitted that I am a fool, but I am a lovesick fool. So please, if you could find it in you to forgive me, I promise to make it all up to you. Today, tomorrow and everyday.”

“No more secrets? No more games?” You asked, voice low and hopeful.

He nodded eagerly. You extended your hand out to him, and he took it, kissing your knuckles reverently.

“I’m scared, too,” you admitted, not letting go of his hand. “But we cannot control everything, darling mine. To love is to risk heartbreak, you know, but it is a risk I’m more than willing to take if it means I get to be by your side. That’s a choice no one can take from me.”

“So that means you love me?”

“Yes, and that is why I do forgive you,” you said, bending down to place a gentle kiss on his lips. “Though I do think the begging really helped. I kinda like seeing you on your knees.”

Both of you chuckled, and you finally let him stand. He dove forward to kiss you feverishly, one hand holding the back of your head while the other snaked around your middle, pressing you flush against him.

“I love you, too,” he whispered against your lips, pulling back only to rest his forehead against yours. “And I’m going to spend my days making sure you never forget it.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner angst #hotch #minors dni

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flightfoot · 8 months

Note

Hi, I'd be interested in some fanfictions that center around Nino (all ships welcome, bonus points if it's the core four hanging out).

Most fics that have him tagged don't focus on him. If you have any recs lmk, feel free to take as long as you need! Have a nice day

I'm on it! So long as you're fine with ships that also revolve around couples anyway, otherwise this would be rather sparse. I'm gonna go ahead and limit it to completed fics. Oh, and if you wonder why some of these have commentary and some don't, it's because the ones with commentary are from previous reclists I made.

(Edit: I'd said that I'd only include complete fics, but I accidentally included Withered Wings anyway, because I kinda forgot that. It's pretty close to finished at any rate, and it's good and long so I'm keeping it.)

Within Your Heart by Inkyibis

It’s Valentine’s Day and Ladybug just wants to her superhero partner to find his love. And what she wants, the Lucky Charm will create. If only she could remember what it is she did last night.

Adrino fic here! Marinette’s drunk and feeling awful that her superhero partner is alone on Valentine’s (she’s in a loving and committed relationship with Alya), so she creates a Lucky Charm to help Chat find love! In this universe, Ladybug’s Lucky Charms have the power to create new rules for the universe to follow, such as making one that demands that if you have any magic in you, you have to tell the truth or else you’ll freeze. Or in Adrien’s case, that he has to wake up in the arms of his true love every day XD. It’s very sweet and I love both Adrien’s and Nino’s relationship, and the relationship between the rest of the Miracuteam members as well, even though that’s not the focus.

---

I’ll give myself a name (something stupid and pretentious) by @bbutterflies

Nino looked at the number and didn’t recognize it. Usually he wouldn’t answer, but he had nothing better to do – and could still really use a distraction – so he did. “Hello?”

“Hey, Nino.”

Nino stood up quickly, chest tightening. He knew that voice. He’d been waiting to hear it again for over two years. “Adrien?” he whispered.

“Yeah. It’s me."

When Monarch is defeated (and revealed to be Gabriel Agreste), Chat Noir immediately goes missing. Adrien disappears not long after. When Adrien finally shows up in Paris again, Nino would do anything to make sure he doesn't disappear again.

Ah this is lovely, Adrien’s been in a lot of emotional turmoil since Monarch’s defeat, convinced that everyone would hate him, SHOULD hate him, for not realizing that his father was the villain, and should hate him even more for disappearing like he does. But slowly Marinette and Nino get through to him, convince him that they just want him back.

And also Adrien and Nino smooch. Multiple times. So that’s a bonus XD.

---

Would Trust You With Everything by @kasienda

Nino breaks off, tears streaking down his face. Adrien wishes he was here as himself instead of Chat so he could offer a hug.

“It’s not like I don’t think she deserved her privacy. It’s just it felt like I was her last priority. And if I knew why, then maybe we could overcome it. But when I don’t, I’m not willing to be her last thought. You know? I always put her first.”

“Yeah,” Chat agrees, able to relate too well. He always put Ladybug first too, and he’s not sure it has ever been the same for her. “I’m sorry you’ve been so alone through this."

“I haven’t been totally alone,” Nino disagrees, holding up his phone. “My best friend has been keeping me company virtually most of the day.”

“Yeah? It helped?”

“I don’t know if any of the stuff he sent helped, but like, given what I know he’s up to, he totally had to move heaven and earth to talk to me so much, and that really helped. You know, just knowing that someone was thinking of me.”

“I’m glad,” Chat Noir said. “I wish he could be there in person for you.”

Nino sighs. “Yeah, me too, but at least you’re here."

...

Season 4 au - canon divergent from Rocketear Rocketear led to DJWiFi breakup.

Ahh, Adrino my beloved XD. I love the identity shenanigans in this one with Adrien being around Nino as both Adrien and Chat Noir, and both of them vaguely describing their situations to each other. It takes Adrien a bit to figure out that he has a crush on Nino, but once he does...

---

The moment I knew (I’d no choice but to love you) by @bbutterflies

“He’s dating me,” Nino said, taking Adrien’s hand in his own.

Adrien could only stare back at him in shock.

“How dare you all force him to come out?” Nino continued, glaring at the reporters. “That was disgusting.” He pulled Adrien over to the car, guided him in, and shut the door behind them.

In the relative quiet and privacy of the backseat, Adrien finally processed what had just happened. “So… when were you going to tell me we were dating?”

This Adrino fic is delicious XD. Reporters keep hounding Adrien about his love life, so Nino finally gets them off Adrien’s back by fake-dating him. Problem is, Adrien’s actually been madly in love with Nino for years but has never been able to tell him. And now as they’re spending more time together, Nino’s beginning to find that he’s enjoying all these “couple” activities more than maybe he ought to if it’s entirely platonic...

If you want to see Adrien and Nino PINING for each other while “fake” dating (is it really fake if both parties want it to be real?) then you’ve come to the right fic!

---

Chemistry With Him by @bbutterflies

It kind of sucked Nino was taking chemistry, but classes had filled up fast and he needed to take something and his advisor had said the credits would, somehow, count towards his major. It really sucked he was taking it first thing on a Monday morning (and Wednesdays, and Fridays, unfortunately). But he could get through it. He knew he could.

So no more boys. No distractions. He could do this all on his own.

“Is anyone sitting here?”

Nino looked up to find the source of the voice. A blond, green-eyed, absolutely beautiful someone.

Okay. Maybe one distraction.

Ah, adorable Adrino. This is a universe where Adrien never went to public school, so while Chat Noir, Ladybug, Carapace, and Rena Rouge all know each other (and Marinette, Alya, and Nino all know each other’s identities) they’re unaware that they are all already friends with Adrien. I loved seeing Chat and Carapace excitedly tell each other about their awesome crush/boyfriend, not knowing they were talking about each other XD.

---

Strangely Familiar by @sunfoxfic

Alya Césaire’s life is perfect. Indeed, between the success of the Ladyblog, how well she’s doing in school, and the fact that she’s a superhero who has never bore the weight of a crisis of epic proportions, her life almost couldn’t be better. Almost.

But Alya has always been a go-getter, and so she’ll chase after that perfect life if it kills her. Which is how she ends up rushing to move out of her father’s apartment and in with Marinette, Adrien, and a complete stranger: Nino Lahiffe. And in fact, her life does seem perfect — she and Nino are fast friends. They spend a lot of time together and get to know each other really well.

But in the end, fortunate situations will bear unfortunate truths, and she learns things about herself that aren’t quite comfortable. Like I said, though: Alya has always been a go-getter, and she won’t let new feelings deter her from chasing after her perfect life.

This is the single longest DJWifi-centric fic on AO3 (which is a travesty) and it is GLORIOUS. Alya and Nino are both well fleshed-out here, with their own problems and baggage they’re dealing with, but it’s easier together.

---

Shelltering Others by @rosie-b:

When Ladybug wakes Nino up in the middle of the night to scold him for revealing his identity, he thinks his career as a Miraculous holder is over. But instead, Ladybug gives him the opportunity to prove himself by becoming Chat Noir’s confidant and learning his secret identity through a scavenger hunt of sorts. Will Nino pass Ladybug and Chat Noir’s test, or will he fail to put the pieces together in time?

Quick disclaimer here: the first chapter looks kinda salty towards Nino, with Ladybug laying into him for revealing his and Alya’s secret identities to Adrien and Marinette. She’s mostly just trying to scare him into taking them seriously, though, since she herself has just proposed that Nino become Chat’s secret-keeper, and he can’t afford to be lackadaisical with that identity. I highly recommend getting through at least chapter 2 of the fic when giving it a shot, because this had some great character development and introspection for Nino, on Chat Noir, Adrien, Ladybug, and himself.

---

run boy run by tinuviel_tinuviel

Nino was sprawled on the floor of his room with Alya when his phone chimed, in the quiet of a premature autumnal sunset. It was one of those lazy evenings that had become rare lately. Contrary to popular belief, he and Alya could get studying done when in the same room, and he was elbows-deep in late assignments, which meant his phone was on Do Not Disturb, which meant the notification could only have come from one person.

ADRIEN 🐈: cmoe ove rnow ADRIEN 🐈: like riggt now ADRIEN 🐈: plag NINO: that is literally incomprehensible NINO: wait is that you plagg ADRIEN 🐈: mov faster

So this is a “Adrien finds out that his father is Hawkmoth and consults with Nino about what to do” fic, with Nino throwing Hawkmoth off Adrien’s track, though inadvertently at his own expense. Love Nino’s perspective here, and I always enjoy a good Hawkmoth-takedown fic!

---

Best Friend and Boyfriends by @kasienda

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Nino commented when Adrien slid into the seat next to him in the student lounge during the mutual gap they both had between their university classes. Adrien turned his grin towards his best friend. “Yeah,” he agreed. Nino grinned back. “I haven’t seen you in this good of a mood in months. Were you hanging with your mystery lady?” The question caught Adrien completely off guard. Was Nino seriously comparing his feelings for Carapace with his feelings for Ladybug? Sure, Carapace had become one of his favorite people. Adrien currently coveted every moment spent in Carapace’s company. He walked away from talking to him for hours feeling like he was floating on a cloud. And he was anticipating their next patrol like a giddy child waiting for Christmas morning. Holy shit! “You okay, dude?” Nino asked. He totally had feelings for Carapace. When had that even happened?

---

Withered Wings by @11jj11

Nino wasn’t sure if anyone had ever willingly took the akuma butterfly before him, but with his mind completely open to this apparent son of Hawk Moth he knew that he couldn’t turn him away. Not someone that was so afraid, not someone who would be left at the mercy of Hawk Moth.

---

5 times Adrien, the person, helps Nino aka Chat Noir and one time Adrien, the turtle themed hero (still not the fragrance) does it by DearLittleRobin

Adrien is a cool guy that needs more friends Nino is a good friend (and he's also Chat Noir)

---

Turtle-y Awesome by chattonne-rousse

Hugo Dupain-Cheng loves turtles, and by extension, he loves Carapace, his favorite superhero of them all. He doesn't know yet that his idol is also his Uncle Nino, and Nino hasn't yet seen the Carapace shrine that is Hugo's bedroom. But the little man is turning five and has just two wishes - a Carapace-themed party with friends and family, and the latest, greatest Carapace play set. This is a story of best friends, laughter, good kids and even better parents, and a whole lot of turtles.

---

I hope the worst isn't over by thescuttlebug

Falling is exactly like flying right up until you stop. Like, assuming the kind of flying you’re used to involves busted steering and useless panic, Nino guesses. “GO LIMP!” a voice shouts, and Nino catches a glimpse of black something-like-leather and the twin flashes of a golden bell and silver staff streaking through the air. “Are you kidding me, dude?!” he shrieks.

---

Foxy Lady by WizardlyMagik

In which Nino finds himself unexpectedly attracted to Rena Rouge, tries and fails to tell his friends and get some advice, and desperately attempts to hide it from his girlfriend. (Who in fact, is planning to use it to her advantage)

---

Won't Tell A Soul by @thelastpilot

Nino accidentally runs head long into the biggest most stressful secret he can imagine, but now that he knows the truth about Marinette he is determined to help her in any way he can.

#nino lahiffe #ml fanfic rec #miraculous ladybug #adrino #djwifi #ask

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knullanon · 2 years

Note

please please please please! write a continuation of the symbiotes fic where reader gets token way from knull and into the hands of anti-venom. i beg of you. 😥

a/n: anti venom will appear next chapter I promise but for now you just get the glimpse of what he's got. also sorry to that one swedish anon bc Knull is mentioned many times here. and yes it's a venom gif because theres no knull gifs so yeah 😭😭 also, please mind the tags.

REDO: Symbiotes Being Assholes Part 3

words: 2787

warnings: kidnapping, physical abuse, talk of dismemberment, arguments, probably incorrect medical treatment for the broken nose, lmk if I missed any!

~~~

"WAKE UP!"

Cletus jumped up, immediately regretting it as he felt his headache arise. He leaned back, his head swirling with pain.

"What the hell...?"

Get up, Cletus! We must go, we have to move!

Ignoring the pain, Cletus got himself up and looked around. He remembered the night before- leaving the apartment, driving for a few hours...

He sobered up once he realized what had happened. He looked around, seeing if he could see you, but you were nowhere to be found. Neither was Knull.

He got up, glass crunching under his feet as he jumped over fallen shelves. He rushed outside, seeing that it was empty. Just the truck, glass, and the gas pumps.

"Fuck," he breathed out, and moved towards the truck. Carnage was yelling about every idea and curse they had, and it was becoming more of a nuisance than any help. He opened the door, seeing that nothing was taken or broken, including the keys.

He took them! We have to get them back! What are we waiting for?! Let's go!

"I know that." He grabbed the keys and got into the driver's seat. "We gotta lay low for a minute, though."

He started the truck, and started to back out into the freeway. "We can't let Knull know we might be alive, because if he figures it out, we're probably never gonna live another day."

The truck rolled forward, and Cletus hit the gas. "We need a plan, and sooner than later."

---

The first thing you had noticed when you woke up was how comfortable you were.

The bed you were given was the best you've ever had, even if you didn't want to admit it. There were layers of blankets and pillows stacked up on each other, and the mattress was so soft. It was like you were melting into it when you laid down.

The next thing you noticed was that your broken nose was patched up. It had bandages around it, along with some gauze. Fortunately for you, it didn't hurt that much. They must've given you something to combat it.

The room you were in was extremely spacious, and even though the bed was huge, it wasn't even taking up a third of the space. There was a vanity mirror on your left, a dresser and a door to your right, and in front of the bed was a window that stretched across the wall, with pink curtains that were pulled back. It showed a beautiful landscape of a wide farmland, with a forest to the sides and a beautiful sunrise.

You ignored all of that, though, and instead pulled the covers off of you. You got up and walked to the window. It seemed thick, not thick enough that you couldn't break it, but enough that it would have to get something big to break it. There wasn't anyone outside, either, so they would have either been in the house or somewhere else.

There wasn't anything else in the room that could help you. You found a pair of shoes and socks, but other than that, you were wearing what you were from the night beforehand. Was it the night before? You couldn't tell.

You went to open the door, finding that it was open. When you tried to open it, it made a loud creaking noise. You stopped, hearing and listening for anyone that would come by.

But nobody came.

You peaked your eyes out, seeing that there was no one there. When you opened it more, and looked the other way, no one was there. At first, you didn't want to move, in case it was some delayed reaction, and they were just behind the wall. But eventually, after a few more seconds of silence, your curiosity couldn't take it.

Making sure that you weren't making more noise, you slowly stepped out of the room before shutting the door. The hallway looked similar to the room, run down but still... homey.

Turning to the right, you decided to find the staircase since you were definitely on the second floor of the house. The hallway itself was more decorated than you originally had thought, as well. There were pictures, family photos, of an older man, probably in his late 50s, along with his wife. They both seemed very happy in the photo.

There were more photos of them, along with different awards and degrees, showing the accomplishments of the couple. You didn't give much focus to them, however, because you were already going down the stairs by the time you found the end of the hallway.

The stairs, while old, didn't make any noise when you went down them, which you were extremely thankful for. Once all the way down, you turned the corner, standing on the last step. The stairs went into a kitchen, which then led into a living room. You walked into the kitchen, looking around.

The first thing you looked for was a knife block, but either they didn't have one or they had been taken away. So, you continued opening the drawers, trying to find something to help you. Most of them were just utensils and tools, but eventually, you found the silverware drawer.

There were a few butter knives, but to the side, there were a few steak knives. You picked one up before you closed the drawer. You slid the knife into your pocket, being careful to make sure you wouldn't stab yourself by accident. When you were sure that it was secure, you moved into the next room.

The living room wasn't anything special. Two armrest chairs, a TV, and a coffee table. But there was a door on the other side.

You walked to it and turned the knob. It was unlocked, and while you wanted to run away, you again checked and made sure that there wasn't anyone outside waiting for you.

When the coast was clear, you swung the door open, and you shut it behind you. There was a little porch, and again, two chairs. Looking around, it seemed like there wasn't anything around you. No car, no buildings, just the house and the land in front of it. It must've been somewhere really remote.

Just when you were about to go back inside to see if there was anything else you could take, you smelled something. It was rotten, terrible, and even though your smell wasn't as prominent, you could tell it was from the side of the house.

Covering your nose, you walked over to the left side of the house, trying to see if the smell was from there, but there was only a few tools and some buckets

You turned towards the edge of the grass, where it was cut just enough to walk through, and the smell became more prominent. You tried to peak over the grass to see if something was there, but you couldn't see anything from where you were.

Before you could even walk to see if there was anything, you were picked up by the back of your neck and pulled off the ground. Your feet dangled while you grabbed the hand that held you, trying to pry it off.

"What are you doing?" You looked to your right to see that same symbiote from last night, Rumble? The orange streaks seemed more prominent than the previous night, probably due to the better lighting.

You continued to grab at their hand, trying to pull it off, but to no avail. Suddenly, you remembered the knife you had taken from the kitchen. You reached for your waist, only being able to pull out the knife, trying to stab the symbiote before it was grabbed and yanked away from you.

For a few seconds, you tried to pull the knife away from the symbiote but were unsuccessful. They held it above your reach, eyeing it, before they turned to you.

"Where did you get this?" When you didn't answer, they shook you harshly. "Where did you get this?"

"Fuck you."

Shaking their head, they walked back to the house while you struggled to get away. They walked all the way from the living room back to the room you were put in. They tossed you onto the bed and then slammed the door.

You rolled onto your stomach and pushed yourself up to sit. The symbiote moved towards the vanity mirror and sat on the bench. It creaked with their weight, but it held itself up.

"_____, where did you get this?" They held up the knife, pointing it towards you. You didn't respond.

It seemed to piss them off as they got up from the bench, seemingly going to lunge at you. But they stopped. They seemed to be thinking, and they sat back down. Maybe they thought it wasn't worth it?

"Look, I know that you may be a little... stressed from the recent events, but you have to be cooperative. Knull will not be as forgiving as I might be, and if he finds out you were outside... it won't be good."

Silently rolling your eyes, you pushed yourself against the wall. "Then why did he break my nose?"

They cringed for a moment but quickly composed themselves, "He did not mean it: you were simply acting out."

"Acting out? I was trying to get away from him because he grabbed me!"

Rumble hissed, whispering, "Do not raise your voice."

Before you could even answer, they continued, "_____, you must calm down before he comes back. He- urgh," they got up from his chair, and paced around for a moment.

They turned back to you, and held out the knife. "I won't tell him about this," he gestured the knife towards you, "But what I will say is this- if you continue to act out, either to me, or worse, Knull, I won't save you from the consequences. Do you understand?"

You looked at their hand, and then back to them. You remembered how worried Cletus and Carnage were about Knull, and how easily he was beaten. While Eddie nor Venom never said anything about either Carnage or Knull, you knew that it would be the same for them.

"...I understand." Rumble nodded, and began to walk out. "I'll leave you here for now: Knull will be back by noon, he should bring you lunch."

They opened the door, but they turned back to you. "I'm... sorry for shaking you. But please, next time just cooperate."

They shut the door, and you heard it lock.

You already checked the room beforehand, so you took off your shoes and socks, setting them down next to your bed. You laid down, trying to rest, while also trying to think of any way to escape.

---

The next few hours were just sleeping. You didn't dream at all, but when you woke up, you saw that it was probably already noon. You pulled back the covers, and noted that your shoes and socks were gone, and replaced with slippers.

You looked back to the window, trying to see if anyone was outside. You couldn't tell, so you laid back down.

While you were thinking about what to do, you heard a knock. The door opened, and you saw Knull peer inside. He smiled, and pushed open the door fully. He walked in, and you saw Rumble follow behind him.

Even though the room was huge, it looked small when Knull fully stepped inside. He looked around, humming a little tune, before he walked over to your bed and sat at the edge.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, holding a plate of food. You didn't really care about the food, though. Instead, you glared at Knull, not looking away for a moment.

You could see Rumble give you a nervous look, but you didn't give him a glance. Knull's smile faltered a little, but he held out the plate of food, trying to get you to take it.

"It won't kill you to eat." When you didn't reach out to take it, he continued, "_____, it's just meat and potatoes, how hard can that be to eat?"

While you were going to continue to ignore him, you gave a quick glance at Rumble, and the genuinely seemed worried. They were holding their hands, and their eyes, while just blank, still held some sort of warning.

I won't save you from the consequences.

You turned back to Knull, and reluctantly grabbed the plate from him. His smile returned, as he beamed at you. "Good, eat as much as you can."

He reached out to touch your face but you moved to the side. He frowned. "_____." You heard Rumble quietly protest, but you did not care.

"Why did you take me?"

Knull looked at you, and shook his head before he suddenly stood up, and yanked the plate out of your hands. He threw it at the wall, a loud crash following suit. Food and ceramic bits were all across the dresser and the wall, but he didn't seem to care and he grabbed you by your shirt and hoisted you up.

"Why are you acting so difficult? I saved you, I'm bringing you to a better life and all you can do is act like a brat."

"Why did you take me?" You could see him get irate when you repeated yourself, and he was about to do something to you, but suddenly, a hand was placed on his shoulder.

"_____ is simply worried, they're not in the right of mind-"

Knull dropped you, letting you fall to the bed, and lunged towards Rumble. They tried to dodge, but were unsuccesful. Knull backhanded them, hitting them across the room and through the window. Glass shattered everywhere, and you heard Rumble hit the ground below the room. What was with Knull and throwing people through windows?

While you tried to peek over to see if they were ok, Knull marched over to the broken window. "You will not interfere with this!" He pointed down, probably to Rumble, before he turned back and walked to you.

He kneeled, grabbing your face before you could stop him. He rubbed his thumbs across your cheeks, and he embraced you in a hug.

"_____, I love you very much, you are very dear to me. You are my baby, and you will have everything you will ever ask for once you are ready. But..."

"The next time you run away like you did this morning, I will cut off your legs and make sure you never leave me again."

You were silent, trying not to show your fear. He gave you a kiss on your forehead, smiled and stood up. He walked to the door, saying, "I will see you tonight. Fix your attitude by then."

He stopped and turned to the window, yelling out "Rumble, replace that window before tonight."

He slammed the door behind you, and you were left shaking, as you wondered what you were going to do.

---

By the time you were getting ready for bed, Rumble had finally fixed your window by having another symbiote in the nearby city get a new window panel for him. He had let Knull be in charge of giving you your dinner, as he did not want another window to be replaced.

They were just getting down from putting it in place when they heard something from behind them. They turned around, seeing nothing. They looked closer, and saw an outline of someone in the trees.

"Who's there?"

A voice shushed them. "Be quiet."

Just before Rumble could attack them, the stranger put their hands up. "I am not here to fight you, but I need you to listen to me."

Rumble scoffed. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because I know that you feel somewhat bad for _____. I have a way to get them out."

Rumble did not falter in their stance, but they were intrigued. "How can a human defeat a god?"

"Oh please, I'm not that human."

The figure stepped out, and Rumble realized they were another symbiote. A white and black one, and while they looked familiar, they couldn't remember who it was.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Anti-Venom, I am a... offspring of Venom. I have a proposition for you, that I think you would benefit greatly from."

Rumble considered his options. He gave a glance to the window, knowing Knull was either still there or was somewhere in the house.

"Let's find somewhere more private, yes?" Anti-Venom smiled, it's teeth glinting in the light.

Rumble relaxed, and fully turned to Anti-Venom, nodding. "You have one chance."

Anti-Venom chuckled. "That will be all I need."

~~~

I was rereading the previous parts and got inspired to write this. I hope y'all like it tho because this was fun to write, love you guys sm <3

also yes Anti-Venom will appear next chapter dw I just feel like I'm not giving anyone in the story any dialogue so I wanna work on that

#yandere knull #yandere knull imagine #yandere knull x reader #yandere anti-venom #yandere anti-venom x reader #yandere anti-venom imagine #yandere anti venom #yandere anti venom imagine #yandere anti venom x reader #yandere platonic #yandere marvel #yandere venom #yandere venom x reader #yandere venom imagine #yandere marvel platonic #yandere marvel imagine #yandere marvel x reader #yandere marvel comics

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illarian-rambling · 4 months

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My favorite game! Thanks for the tag @drchenquill!

OC Interaction Tag

Dr. Chen's OC: Sophie is a sixteen-year-old girl with a lot of positive energy. She lives with her aunt, who is the only living relative she knows. She has a pretty positive outlook on life, even though her life isn't as rosy as it seems. She is plagued by painful headaches that lead to visions she can't understand. She's rather naive and trusting (which is not a good trait, at least not for her). She has the energy and attention span of a squirrel. She's a lovable mess, with supernatural precognition she's unaware she has.

My OC: Izjik Meautammera is a 26 year old halawemavar selkie (think catfish-themed instead of seal) with big muscles and a bigger heart. She's the vessel of an entity known as End, a starry-eyed godkiller, who prompts her to go out and do the whole godkilling thing, which she'd much rather not. Her talents include fighting, hunting, and a high level of emotional intelligence. Izjik might know fuck all about academic nonsense, but she can smell fear and can spot a lie from a mile away. She uses this skill to comfort her friends and act as the heart of her found family. Izjik likes to think that everyone has good in them, and if she can help to bring that out, she will. There's a deep kindness in her, rivaled only be a serious vicious streak. It doesn't matter what; Izjik will do anything it takes to survive. She fights even in the most dire circumstances. Giving up isn't something she knows how to do. This can be good, or, in the case of stubbornly refusing to learn anything about End in case the truth made it impossible to go on, very bad.

How they'd interact: Izjik would take one look at Sophie and be floored by parental instincts. A caretaker by nature, she'd do her best to help the girl out in whatever way Sophie needs, whether that means investigating her visions or just getting ice for her headaches. I think Sophie, with her trusting nature, would probably warm to Izjik rapidly. They both have teeny, tiny attention spans, so they'd probably enjoy similar activities. I'd like to think Izjik is insightful enough to pick up on Sophie's precognition, but whether she says anything depends on if she thinks the girl can handle the knowledge.

Lmk what you think! I'll tag @mk-writes-stuff @elsie-writes @halfbakedspuds @phoenixradiant @ray-writes-n-shit and anyone else who wants to play!

#writing #writerscommunity #writblr #my ocs #oc interaction

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emepe · 5 months

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— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Chapter summary: The killer has the police fooled. Meanwhile, you and Eren enjoy more of each other’s company.

— Content warnings: slightly nsfw, dry humping, make out, mention of stalking, murder, mention of torture, mention of rape.

— Notes: Welcome to chapter 7 <3 If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list, lmk. Happy reading!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

lost signs

“Detective.”

A meek voice pulls Levi's attention from the paperwork scattered across his desk, as a fresh manila folder is promptly set down before him.

“The notes on the autopsy.”

Every other task is instantly abandoned as the raven-haired man grabs the folder and goes through the pages of the autopsy report, along with the notes provided by his subordinate.

Less than an hour later, Levi's knocking on the door of his captain's office, staying true to his habit of walking in before being invited.

“What do you have there?”

Erwin Smith barely spares a proper look at Levi as he continues scrolling through a file on his computer.

“Carly Stratmann's autopsy notes.”

Erwin simply nods, not showing much interest in the topic but not yet doing anything to shoo the stoic detective from his office.

“You're the lead detective on this case. Don't tell me you need me to hold your hand for this.”

Levi clicks his tongue at the remark, but straightens his posture to keep up his stern appearance.

“I think we need to raise a few alarms.”

Erwin shoots a menacing look in his direction, but purses his lips before he can spout another sharp remark.

Levi Ackerman hasn't been working the homicide department for long — just barely a couple of years after transferring from property crime, and just as many major cases under his belt.

His sudden need to raise alarms doesn't come as a surprise to Erwin. The man's got good instincts, albeit he's a bit too quick to act on them for Erwin's liking at times. And that's when he intervenes to rein him in.

On a day when he's so burnt out from work, the task is even more annoying to take on than usual.

“Is it the same M.O. as the Langnar case?”

“Not exactly, but—”

“I'll stop you right there, then,” Erwin firmly says, holding a hand up to make his point, hoping he can cut today's coolly disguised frenzy short.

Though calm and collected — practically icy — on the outside, detective Ackerman has been letting his personal convictions sway his thinking since the Langnar murder.

Erwin doesn't care to know much about his subordinates — it's just a job — but he knows Ackerman has a beloved niece of similar age to the recent murder victims living in the city, and it doesn't take much to deduce that's where his hidden worries stem from.

“There aren't many coincidences, it's true,” Levi states, resisting the urge to harshly spit the words at his superior. After all, a man who wants to be heard, has no need to raise his voice. “But even if these are isolated cases, it wouldn't hurt to… I don't know, set up a curfew… send out more units to patrol at night. Erwin, two women were murdered without a trace of DNA from the culprit.”

He sighs, then mutters the next few words under his breath.

“That's not a fucking coincidence.”

Erwin leans forward into his desk.

“Alright, Ackerman, I'll humor you for a minute.”

His hands clasp together, his chin resting on top as he formulates a question.

“Aside from the lack of DNA and the fact that they're women, is there anything in the autopsy reports that's enough to suspect we've got a serial killer in our hands?”

Levi tenses his jaw, tongue rolling against his cheek before sourly replying.

“No.”

Erwin's eyebrows rise as a sign of finality. But Levi stands his ground, taking his gesture as defiance.

“I get your point. Stratmann could have nothing to do with Langnar. Maybe it was someone they knew or maybe it's not. If that's the case, are two criminals better than one? Is that what we're hoping for?”

Erwin's stern gaze falters for a split second, but he recovers just as quickly.

“How do we discard a serial killer in the making? What if this person hasn't fixed themselves on their M.O.? We can get them early in their career if we make a move right n–”

“We can't make moves based on gut feelings.”

Erwin's statement makes Levi shrink back for the first time since walking into the office.

“Langnar was tortured. Her injuries were consistent with weeks of trauma. Choked, handcuffed, cut, beaten, sliced at the mouth post-mortem, and dismembered. A very tedious and meticulous process, wouldn't you say? She had to have spent weeks in captivity and that points to either a person who was close enough to lure her into their trap or a stalker who observed her before kidnapping her.” He gestures for Levi to hand him the file in his hands, snatching the folder and ripping it open once he's close enough. “Stratmann was sliced at the neck, choked beforehand, raped post-mortem. It's sloppy and clear to have been done on a whim.”

“She was left in a dumpster, too,” Levi reminds him. “Just like Langnar.”

Erwin presses his lips into a thin line, his thick eyebrows weighed down with severity.

“That's not enough to go off of. We can't cry ‘serial killer’ over one measly coincidence.”

Levi can feel himself wavering at Erwin's arguments.

“Can we at least impose a curfew?” he asks.

Erwin heavily sighs, enough for the movement to be caught on his now slumping shoulders.

“As I said, bring me solid proof of a connection and we'll talk.”

“Okay. Spill,” Mikasa orders as soon as she scurries out of the bathroom and plops down criss-crossed on the sofa.

It's Saturday night and you and Sasha are staying over at Mikasa's place for a girl's night.

The living room floor is littered with blankets, cushions and pillows, and the television is playing a random horror movie that has gone ignored since Sasha wondered out loud how Eren was doing a few minutes ago. She seemingly asked nobody in particular, but it was clear you were meant to respond with both girl's eyes set on you the moment the green-eyed man's name came up.

You figured the sleepover was a cover for an ambush. The girls formed a separate group chat for just the three of you, coincidentally the day after your first date with Eren and have been asking to get together for the past week.

You tug nervously at the sleeve of your pajama top, shying away from the expectant gaze that seeps through Mikasa's face mask.

You shrug.

“What do you wanna know?”

“Who made the first move?” Sasha asks, scooting closer to you as if that means she'll get more details.

You ponder for a moment. It's hard to tell. Eren was first to ask you out two months ago, but you were the first to kiss him last Saturday. In a way, you both had a chance to steer the wheel.

When you explain this to the girls, they swoon, falling into a fit of excited giggles.

“I never pegged you for the bold type,” Mikasa grins, lightly smacking your shoulder. “I bet Eren loved that.”

Sasha nods in agreement, giddy.

“I can't believe you didn't tell us right away,” Mikasa pouts.

“I don't think you would've remembered, Mika,” you say. “You had three Long Islands that night.”

“Still, it would've been nice to know,” she sighs dramatically.

“Okay, so you got together the night of the Halloween party,” Sasha reviews. “But what about the day we went to Sunrise? I totally thought you guys had a thing going on back then. I mean, Eren never left your side, even before you got hurt.”

The apple-picking trip seems like so long ago, but the memory remains fresh in your mind. You smile at the mental image of Eren's serious expression as he claimed to never have been so curious to know anyone before you.

“Oh my gosh,” Mikasa squeals, aggressively smacking Sasha’s back as she's reminded of something. “She was feeding him peanuts on the way there. They were so shy, it was adorable.”

Instinctively, your hands come up to cover your face in embarrassment. It didn't even register until now that the people in the backseat witnessed the awkward exchange.

Now that you've tasted the lips that brushed against your fingertips that day, the reminder seems even more embarrassing.

You smack your cheeks lightly in an attempt to ground yourself. The girls watch you amusedly, exchanging knowing glances in between.

“Have you guys… you know.” Mikasa raises her eyebrows suggestively.

Warmth floods your cheeks again.

“Not yet,” you murmur. “We're taking things slow.”

She looks surprised, but nods in support.

“Of course,” she says. “Slow is good.”

“Says the girl who pounced on Jean after one of his gigs because she was jealous.”

“Hey!” Mikasa whines, growing shy at the accusation. “I had to get a message across. He was being petty.”

Sasha throws her head back in laughter.

“No, he was just stupid. He had no idea you liked him back until that night.”

Your gaze flickers between the two girls as you piece their conversation together.

A blushing Mikasa picks up a cushion and chucks it at Sasha’s face who easily avoids the blow and laughs at the raven-haired girl's pout.

“Whatever,” Mikasa groans. She turns to look at you, features instantly shifting into a more cheerful expression.

“So how do you feel?”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“About Eren.”

“It's only been a week,” you explain.

“So?” she shrugs. “You guys have been spending a lot of time together, haven't you? Armin told me Eren's been driving you to work everyday. That means you've had a lot of one-on-one time.”

Shyly, you lower your head, focusing your gaze on the black and white pattern of the comforter laid beneath you. Your fingers mindlessly trace over the texture of the fabric.

“I guess so.”

Both girls smile.

“So what's the verdict?” Sasha asks.

“I… I really like him,” you sigh, lips tugged into a smile. “Like… really really like him.”

Another round of excited squeals and giggles echoes through the room.

Their thrill only encourages you further, pushing you into a tangent of how thoughtful Eren is and how he always manages to hold you with so much care, bringing you peace each time he's close.

“He makes me feel safe. Is that weird to say?”

Mikasa shakes her head as she peels off the mask from her face, wrinkling the sheet into a ball and chucking it across the room to the trash can in one corner. She misses by an inch.

“Not at all. I don't mean to sound old-fashioned but you have to be with someone who makes you feel cared for.”

Sasha hums in agreement as she shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth. She holds a finger up, asking you to wait for her to gulp down the snack.

“And someone who makes you laugh, also very important.”

You nod along with Mikasa.

“Oh, and… well, when you get to it… someone you're sexually compatible with,” she adds. “People like to pretend it's not a big deal but it really is. Sex is okay but great sex with someone who knows how to touch you is where you find out if you're in sync. There needs to be communication and understanding and care. It's so fucking important.”

Mikasa looks down at her friend as she pats her head affectionately.

“You're so wise for someone who doesn't have a boyfriend.”

Sasha quirks an eyebrow.

“Hey, just because I'm not blurting it out to everybody doesn't mean I don't have anything going on.”

Mikasa hums contemplatively.

“Do tell.”

The conversation takes a turn to Sasha’s latest sexcapades, and you take turns with Mikasa to look surprised at the stories she shares.

By the end of the night, when you're all teetering the edge of sleep with a third movie serving as background noise, your mind drifts back to the emerald-eyed boy who makes you laugh so easily, draws every emotion from you, and cares for you like it's what he was put on this earth for.

Water pools at your feet out of thin air. You’re stuck in a dark void with no end, yet the water your eyes frantically search the source of keeps rising at a startling speed, soaking little by little into your clothes until it weighs you down.

Running seems futile. The void has no end and the water keeps steadily climbing up your body, so who knows how long you’ll have until you’re fully submerged — with no exit in view. Even if you could run, the weight of your drenched clothes would only pull you back. But you can’t even move anyway, you realize. You’re stuck in place, feet unable — or unwilling — to even take a couple of waddling steps.

The water is up to your hips now. With trembling hands, you reach down and scoop at the liquid. It’s thick and with a smell so rancid it stretches through the infinite length of the emptiness you stand in. The water’s filthy.

Your hands drop at your sides in an unsettling daze. The next second, your breath grows shallow and you start pulling at your feet as the water reaches your neck. Tears prick at your eyes as you cry at your feet, begging for them to move, to lift from the ground so you could at least make some weak attempt at reaching the surface for air.

Suddenly, a light. Pure white shines brightly from far ahead, where a golden silhouette stands at the threshold between darkness and light — the void’s borders. The other person bangs their fists at the invisible wall keeping you apart, yelling something you can’t make out. Are they yelling at you? No, they don’t even seem to notice your presence. So who are they yelling at? Up at the sky… They’re yelling something up at the sky. But what are they saying? Who does the golden silhouette even belong to?

Your left foot unsticks from the ground unprompted. A sharp breath is all you take before you make your first step toward the light, hand midair to call for the figure’s attention. Just then, an unknown body pulls you into them from behind, crashing your body down into the murky water, where your lungs fill with filth and your eyes flutter shut.

You wake with a small gasp coming through your lips. Still stiffened by the strange dream, your eyes are all that wander the unfamiliar room. The television is set to a screensaver, likely triggered by an extended lack of attention to whatever on-demand production was playing before you fell asleep. There’s a clutter of takeout containers on the coffee table and used glasses with remnants of soda that can safely be assumed to be flat by now.

Slowly, you stir on the velvet green sofa you’re lying on, when you take note of the firm hold around your waist, followed by the soft exhales released onto the crown of your head. You look down at the familiar watch wrapped around the wrist of the hand that holds you in place.

Oh, you think. That’s right. I’m at Eren’s place.

He’s been having trouble catching up on work, meaning he’s had to stay up late for the past couple of nights. He’s a stickler about getting a good night’s rest, so the temporary change in work shifts has thrown him off quite a bit. You told him to stay home and rest — that you could go to the movies another time; next Sunday was fine with you — but he insisted on seeing you, even if it meant a more casual hangout in his living room with Chinese food and a comedy-drama film from the 2000s playing on the TV.

At some point in the evening, the late hours caught up to him all at once and he even managed to get you to stay with him, wrapped in his arms as his sleepiness found its way to your body as well.

Craning your neck, you peer at Eren’s sleepy face from the corner of your eye. You smile. He’s got an innocent look about him even in his sleep. His lips are parted just enough to take and release soft breaths. You sink back into the couch, wiggling around to find the comfortable position you were previously in.

Eren feels you moving and his arm instantly pulls you closer to his body. His warmth transfers through every layer of clothing, enveloping you in a warm embrace. In his sleep, he mumbles a string of words you can’t quite comprehend under his breath, but the vibrations against your back coax you back into a peaceful slumber.

The next time you wake up, it's already getting dark out. The coffee table has been cleared of its mess, and the body lying behind you is no more. Forced by the absence of his arms around you, you trudge out of the living room to look for him as you rub the sleep from your eyes.

He's in the kitchen, back to you, filling a glass with cold water from the fridge.

Leaning against the threshold, you watch him adoringly, marveling at his toned figure from behind. He chugs his first glass of water down, refilling it as soon as he finishes. As he brings the glass to his lips once more, he turns around, eyebrows rising slightly when he takes in your presence.

“Boo,” you smile, standing straight and making your way over to him.

He abandons the glass of water as soon as you meet him, opting to use his hands to push you closer to him by the small of your back as yours rest on his shoulders.

“Did I wake you?” he asks.

You shake your head.

“Just felt lonely, all of a sudden.”

An amused air blows through his nose.

Your hands find a way to his hair, fingers carding through the strands as he keeps his gaze fixed on your face.

His hair has gotten longer, and the strands around his face now cover his forehead, tickling the skin. It’s not messy, by any means, but it gives him an edgier look. The duality of Eren Jaeger’s appearance is a wonder to you. He’s got a way of tipping the scales between cute and sexy with every little thing he does.

You smile at the few rebellious locks that poke out, still fixed in the angle provided by his nap.

“What?” he asks, mirroring your smile.

“Your hair’s getting long,” you murmur.

“I’ll get a haircut soon, don’t worry,” he replies, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth, amused by the way you follow after him once he starts retreating from the contact. He kisses you once more to keep you from pouting.

“I didn’t say anything,” you chuckle. “If you want to grow out your hair, that’s fine. You don’t have to keep it short. I was just pointing it out.”

He shakes his head, humming in denial.

“Nah. This part’s starting to bug me. I just haven’t had time to get it cut,” he explains, brushing back the hair covering his forehead. He proceeds to squeeze your waist on either side. “But what do you prefer?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter with a shrug.

“Gun to your head, which looks better?” he smiles.

His extremist question earns him an eye roll but you answer him nonetheless after a beat.

“I like your short hair,” you finalize earnestly.

He grins, cupping your face with one hand as he places a kiss on your cheek — then on your jaw, and one in the crook of your neck.

“Yeah?” he murmurs against the sensitive skin.

You nod, a small smile dancing across your lips at his tender affections.

“You look very handsome with a clean undercut. The day I met you I actually thought you were really good-looking.”

He pulls away from his task on your neck to stare at you in disbelief.

“And yet you refused to go out with me. I can’t believe you.”

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment.

You laugh. The sound swells him with pride — it lights up the room.

“Looks aren't everything, dummy. You're so shallow.”

It's your turn to feign disappointment while he stands there, amused.

“Right, right,” he nods. “I forgot you fell for me because I'm a strong and dependable man.”

He flexes his muscles, making a whole show out of his pointed remark.

You roll your eyes, but the warmth creeping up your face is hard to deny.

“Isn't that right?” he teases.

You don't humor him with an answer — there's no real need for it.

With his hands settled comfortably on your hips, he guides you backward, until your back is pressed against the counter, before he hoists you up and sets you onto it with ease. You welcome him between your thighs with a smile, breath hitching when he caresses your knee over your jeans and buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“My baby,” he coos, pressing an open-mouthed kiss onto your skin.

You giggle at the teasing meaning behind the affectionate name, heart fluttering at the feeling of him smiling against your skin.

The both of you keep your positions for a while — him breathing in your perfume while you stroke his soft hair tenderly.

Being with Eren feels so easy. It's a wonder how comfortable you feel with barely a week tallied for your relationship. Each morning and evening when he drives you to and from work have definitely helped.

After your sobbing confession outside of your apartment, you apologized for making Eren feel as though he was troubling you by being so attentive.

All the accumulated trauma in your heart had ironically made you the perpetrator of making him believe there was no real place for him in your life even after you accepted his liking for you. He didn't ask any followup questions that night, but he understood and vowed to be patient.

You're still trying to be okay with that — his unmoving loyalty. But it's easier to accept when you remind yourself he wouldn't stick around if he didn't want to.

Looking down at the boy in your arms, you smile. He can be so childish at times — teasing you, insisting you hold him, easily shaken by a few late nights. And yet there was something so comforting in his behavior. He's always so happy to see you, making sure to clock in quality time hours — not that he didn't enjoy the daily drives, but it wasn't exactly a date. Not to mention his unwavering need to make sure you're safe. At least his rare stubbornness has good reason.

Reluctantly abandoning the comfort of your neck, he lifts his face to meet your eyes. His gaze bores into yours, engulfing you in warm pools of emerald.

A lazy grin takes over his features.

“I like that,” he murmurs.

Your eyebrows twitch in confusion.

“This,” he explains, bringing a hand to your head and mimicking the strokes you've weaved into his hair. “It feels nice.”

An airy chuckle escapes your lips and you make a point to stroke his hair more.

His face hovers over yours. His hands rest on either side of you as he leans into your affections. His eyes flutter closed as he sighs at your touch.

You look up at him mesmerized by his angelic features. It's true you've always thought he's handsome, but this closeness makes you appreciate every detail of his face even more. His long lashes, the faint freckles on his nose, the thick eyebrows that are softening with each feel of your fingers combing through his hair, the perfect plump lips that whisper your name.

It makes your heart pound against your ribs loudly, the sound echoing in your ears as your hands grow sweaty.

That's when you decide to pull him in for a kiss. His eyes flutter open for a split second of surprise before they close again, at peace and happy. Your hands lose themselves in his hair as his wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter by the small of your back.

The contact is painfully slow, with measured pecks in between deeper kisses. He melts into you, lips softly grazing yours, breath fanning across your mouth as he nips at your bottom lip with his teeth to later soothe the area with his tongue. His lips slot warmly between yours, dragging out at a snail's pace before coming back.

The tip of his tongue pokes between your lips, shy but determined to be granted the access you so easily provide. A soft moan bubbles up your throat as his tongue caresses yours with vehemence. It's unusually hot, but the foreign feeling of his tongue in your mouth is greatly appreciated, marked by the way you desperately try to pull him even closer, in hopes that he can swallow you whole.

The pit of your stomach flutters and stirs with the most pleasant tingle when one of his hands travels to the back of your neck and he pushes his hips against yours. Despite the layers keeping you apart, it's easy to tell he's grown hard from the sweet exchange. He's rock solid under his pants, the delicate moans that bounce off your tongue and onto his making him bigger with every passing second.

He knows you can feel it, but you don't seem to mind, your head too dizzy with the collective sensations being fed to your body — his warm tongue, his bulge brushing your most sensitive spot over your jeans, his left hand holding you in place by the back of your neck while the other firmly squeezes your waist as he's consumed by the passionate kiss.

You cling onto him, thighs drawing closer to keep him flush against you. His hips roll against yours, brushing so deliciously against the spot that's growing wet beneath your clothing that it sends a tickle up your insides.

He sucks on your tongue, the act drawing more lustful mewls from the back of your throat.

You're feverish, your face burning when your shirt happens to rise, exposing your midriff to his calloused fingers which were so careful not to touch any new skin before the incident.

There's a string of saliva that connects your mouths when you finally break your fervent makeout. His lips are swollen and glossy with your saliva, as you're sure yours are with his.

“Eren,” you weakly whine in between breaths.

“Hm?” he hums, as he parts from your mouth to leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck.

You shudder when he swirls his tongue against your sweet spot before gently kissing it.

You whine his name again, though your voice has a stronger shape to it this time.

He turns to face you, pecking your lips just once before easing his grip on your body.

“I know,” he murmurs. “Slow, I remember.”

“Yeah,” you breathe.

His nose brushes against yours as he tilts his head to press a calmer, cooler kiss onto your lips.

“I want to, by the way,” you admit bashfully, avoiding his blown pupils and opting to look at a blank point on his shirt. “Just… not yet.”

When your gaze flickers to his, he's looking down at you warmly.

“I understand,” he murmurs.

Your eyes flit toward the window, reminding you of how late it's getting.

“I should go, it's already dark out.”

Eren nods, pulling back from the counter until you both notice the tent in his pants. You tear your gaze from the area, searching for something of interest elsewhere.

He blushes, ready to express an apology for his body's reaction to your wanton moans and feverish kisses, but you hop off the counter and trail off to the living room to search for your jacket before he can, leaving him to softly laugh at your meek behavior as he makes his way to the bathroom.

When he comes looking for you in the living room a couple of minutes later, you're seated on the couch, waiting patiently for him.

You smile upon his return, no trace of embarrassment left on your features.

“Do you really have to go?” he asks.

Your expression softens but you nod.

“We have work tomorrow. And I know how you get if you don't get your beauty sleep,” you tease.

He rolls his eyes, but wears a playful smile nonetheless.

“No. I mean,” he takes a deep breath. “You could stay the night… if you want to.”

His voice grows timid with every word as he gauges your reaction to his offer. He doesn't want to be pushy, by any means, but he hopes you'll accept.

He watches you chew on your bottom lip, unsure of what to say.

“Unless, of course, that goes against the whole taking-things-slow agreement,” he awkwardly laughs. “But I just… figured you should know… I wouldn’t object to you spending the night. No funny business. Just… to sleep.”

A breath of relief pushes past his lips when a small smile finally grows over your previously troubled features.

“Maybe not tonight,” you say. “But I’ll think about it.”

His lips curl inwards to hide his smile before he holds his hand out to you so you can head out the door together.

Eren swings your linked hands as you travel down the hall from the elevator. It's a habit he's developed over the past few days after seeing you cry for the first time.

The image lingered with bitterness in his head the entire night. It still pops up every now and then, reminding him he has to do everything in his capability to keep it from happening again.

As you walk to your door, hands comically swinging more aggressively each time with Eren's playful attitude, he marvels at your laughing face, feeling at ease with everything concerning you.

He finally eases up on his swing when you reach your door, but your fingers remain laced with his until you absolutely have to part ways.

“Sorry I was so tired today,” he says, holding your hands up to compare the difference in size. He presses his palm against yours, eyes shimmering at the sight before he grabs your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently. “I'll make it up to you next time.”

“I don't mind just hanging out,” you say, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “It's fun.”

He smiles as he watches you fish your keys out of your jacket pocket with your free hand. The click of the lock always comes before letting go, but it's fine because he still gets to see you tomorrow morning for the drive to your office.

You turn to him, leaving the keys dangling on the lock as you drape your arms around his neck.

“By the way,” you murmur, pressing yourself further into his chest when his arms wrap around your waist. “You can spend the night at my place, too, if you want.”

His features twitch and his eyes light up with interest at the offer.

“No funny business,” you add, before pressing a kiss on his cheek. “Just to sleep.”

He laughs.

“Of course. What kind of guy do you take me for?”

You smile, affectionately brushing your nose against his with your eyes closed.

“Just thought I'd let you know.”

“I’ll think about it,” he murmurs mockingly, echoing your response from earlier.

You look up at him quizzically.

“Do I sense some competition over whose apartment we stay at first?” you accuse.

“I’ll get on my knees if you want,” he quips without missing a beat, not bothering to be cool about the topic.

You giggle.

“Perfect. I love pathetic men.”

He stifles a laugh, eyes twinkling in amusement as a reflection of yours. Then he turns on a comically serious expression.

“Baby, I’m as pathetic as they come,” he firmly states, which makes you laugh even more.

“You're such a dork,” you giggle.

He hugs you tightly, playfully rocking your connected bodies in the middle of the hallway as he peppers your face with kisses, relishing in your amused squeals.

The giddiness in your expression remains even after you're both standing still and he's no longer attacking you with kisses.

“Thank you for making time for me,” you smile. “I mean, you already do so much with driving me to work and everything. If you’re ever not in the mood, you can—”

He cuts you off with a chaste kiss to your lips.

“It’s my pleasure.”

You bite back a grin and nod.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs before letting go and beginning his journey out with backwards steps.

“Bye, Eren,” you smile.

Before he can turn on his heel, you catch up to him, instantly making him drop his confused expression for a much softer one when you press your lips against his in one last kiss goodbye. When you pull back, he's got a goofy grin on his face as he waits for you to explain yourself.

You smile shyly.

“For the road.”

November 4, 2024

I found out where my angel lives. It's not too bad a place, but I'm sure she'll like the room I'm fixing for her better. I'm working on a way to get some of her favorite things over to my place. Hopefully she won't miss them too much before I can reunite her with them.

I'm so relieved. It was worth keeping an eye on her for the last few days. The only downside to come out of this is that I have to see that jerk's stupid face everywhere. He just can't leave her alone for a damn second.

It pisses me off to see him touch her like it's nothing. That should be ME kissing her and making her laugh. Not him. He shouldn't be allowed to touch her. Still, she looks so happy each time. But I can't be mad at her. I could never be mad at my angel. She'll realize soon enough that I'm the one meant for her. I just have to suck it up in the meantime. It's bad enough that I have to keep my distance for now but do I have to see her smiling at the wrong guy, too? I can't take it.

She's gotten prettier. It seems impossible but it's true. I could look at her for days on end — and I have the past week as proof. Her smile is brighter and she's practically glowing. It only makes the wait even harder but I still have so much to get done for her arrival. I can't wait to see the look on her face when I finally bring her home with me so we can be happy together.

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chocotonez · 1 year

Text

high school sweethearts (jay/fem!reader)

a/n: ok first enhypen fic!! I had so much fun writing this :>

summary: you bring home your boyfriend Jay to finally formally meet your parents, who you love more than anything but you’re mentally prepared for them to hate him. but you’re in for a very pleasant surprise <3

warnings/genre: fluff, suggestive at some parts esp the end, reader is referred to as daughter and she her pronouns is used, swearing, your parent are so sweet and lovely and great, reader can be a bit baby-like/dramatic(?), food…lmk if anything else needs to be tagged! <3 high school au/bad boy au

As you nervously fidget with your hands, you heard a knock at the door. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's about to happen. You walk over to the door and open it, revealing your boyfriend, Jay. You pleaded with him to dress just a tad less like he came straight out of a wattpad bad-boy story, and you clicked your tongue while cuffing his flannel sleeves and straightening out the chain. You loved your parents, god, no question about it, but they were very…More on the traditional side. They were never cruel to others, but sometimes they just didn’t understand, and you didn’t want them to make any unintentionally rude comments just because they saw a guy wear earrings.

You met Jay after he frantically DM-ed you on Instagram for answers for a homework assignment to be submitted that night, and instead of being a cheat, you told him you would help him with it. You became his tutor, then his friend, then his girlfriend. You made sure he didn’t jeopardize his future and he made sure you lived a little.

"Hey," he greeted, smirking, although you could tell he was just as nervous as you were.

"Hey," you reply, trying to hide your nerves. “No swearing, don’t talk about…We’ve been over this before, just don’t get us killed--And don’t talk about that one time you snuck me out, or when you-”

“Lovie, I’m not that dumb. Relax, we’ll be okay.” He squeezed your shoulders, looking you over. Cute. A cardigan, baggy jeans, the necklace he got for you with a cami underneath, it took all his power not to drag you into the bathroom and kiss you all over your face.

“y/n? The food is ready, darling!” Your mom called, as you took a deep breath, dragging him to the dining room.

“Jay, we’ve heard a lot about you, thank you for taking care of our daughter,” your dad greeted warmly, firmly patting his shoulders. Your mom was scrutinizing every detail, and you rushed him to sit down before she noticed the chain hanging off his jeans’ belt loops.

“y/n told us you don’t have any food allergies or what not, but just in case I made vegan lettuce wraps! Oh, and smoothies of course, but let us know if you want anything else to drink,” your mom offered, setting down the meal. Jay squeezed your hand under the table, feeling you tense up.

“Awe, thanks Mrs. l/n! The food looks great--Oh, do you need any help getting that all from the kitchen?”

“We couldn’t possibly ask a guest to do that!” Your mom waved, dismissively, Jay getting up anyways.

“Good thing you’re not asking, right?” You gave a sudden side-eye, unsure how your parents would take to sarcasm, but to your surprise, your mom chuckled and allowed him to help lay out the rest of the food. Your mom turned on her favorite family-friendly radio, before dinner started.

“Jay, my daughter tells us she tutors you?”

“Oh, yeah, she does.”

“She helps your performance in school?”

“She got me to an honors diploma in less than a month,” he said half-jokingly, your dad smiling and nodding approvingly. It felt like you were watching some otome game, with the meter showing how much your parents liked Jay, and it was fluctuating with each passing second. “You raised her really well.” A few moments passed, before the silence was broken again--

“So, you wear earrings?” Your mom asked, as you glanced at him.

“Yes, she actually got me this pair for my birthday.” Your mom looked at you, but to your surprise, she nodded and smiled in approval.

“They look lovely on you! You know, kids these days, they manage to pull off so many different accessories and clothing, very progressive!” He blushed, as you fought the urge to poke his cheek and tease him, instead just giggling and nudging him.

“You know, back in my day,” your father started, “I actually wore earrings myself.”

“I can’t say you wore them as well as Jay does,” your mom joked, your dad chuckling.

“That reminds me, y/n told us you can skateboard?” Jay affirmed this, your dad laughing. “I used to be really good at skating as well! Oh, y/n will never admit this but I was quite the troublemaker when I was younger, skating after curfew, stealing gum from convenience stores, just boy things, hm?”

“Well hopefully I follow your path and grow up to be a gentleman.” You always forget how charming he is, even just in typical situations. His charisma was good at talking you two out of trouble, but you never thought it would come in handy for something like this. You stared at him while he talked, hands moving, head bobbing, a few polite smiles and some genuine ones. You were surprised at how comfortable the atmosphere was.

“You know, thank you so much for taking care of y/n. She’s a handful I’m sure, I worry we spoiled her too much growing up,” your mom teased.

“She’s sweet until she sees something she wants,” Jay indulged in their humor, your mom laughing as if he was the funniest man she ever met. “No, no really! One time I took her to get gelato, and I told her she couldn’t share with mine and she was whiny the whole way home, it was cute,” he beamed, squishing your cheek as you felt blood rush to your face. “Oh! This one time we went to the mall and she refused to leave until she got a toy from the claw machine.”

“y/n, was that the bear doll you brought home?” You nodded at your father’s question, him snorting. “You should hear her! ‘Oh Jay got me this, Jay got me that,’ as if we didn’t get her allowance! It’s so…Are your parents okay with you spending so much? There’s a whole corner of gifts from you!”

Jay waved a dismissive hand, smiling. “It’s my own money.”

“He saves well!” You interrupted. “He’s good with money.”

“Unlike you?” Your dad joked. “How is she in school?”

“An absolute troublemaker, so noisy…” Jay shook his head in fake disapproval. Your mom and dad laughed, continuing their barrage of questions on how your behavior is, if he makes good choices himself, family life, school life, friends, if you’re making good choices or not. He tried not to die inside when they asked about marriage or moving in, how college was gonna go for the two of you, he didn’t want to think too much about a future when what mattered was you, with him, in the moment.

“It’s getting late, but…” Your mom stood, retrieving something from the counter, a small black gift box that was wrapped in purple ribbon. “y/n tells us you like that sort of alternative fashion, and since you’ve been so kind to our daughter, we wanted to get you something.” You didn’t expect this, as usually when you mentioned a possible romantic partner they panicked and held such a high level of distrust you could’ve never made it work--but this night went too well, even them getting him a gift. Inside was a bracelet, black beads with a single diamond charm in the center.

What the fuck.

“Your birthday is April right?” Jay nodded, still taken aback. “We hope you like it.”

“Thank you so much, I can’t take this from-”

“Good thing you’re not taking it! It’s a gift from us, you’re not taking anything,” your mom stood, dad and you following as you began the preliminary goodbyes. “You make our daughter happy, we cannot thank you enough for that.”

“Come by for dinner again! I want to tell you stories from my day,” your dad nodded, giving him a handshake while your mom squeezed Jay in a hug. You couldn’t help it, sniffling and crying a bit at the scene. “Sweetheart, why are you crying?”

“You guys like him so much,” you sniffled.

“Are you jealous?” Jay teased, excusing himself and wrapping his arm around you. You were the cutest thing in the world, every time your parents thanked him for taking care of you he fought the urge to tell them how he would literally do anything for you, anything to make you smile and keep you safe. From the small things like making sure you wore your seatbelt, walking you home, or always being on speed dial, to the things he didn’t tell you; deciding not to drink anymore because you got worried, getting into a fight with the guy who was talking badly about you, getting rid of shady relationships…Seeing you cry was heart-breaking, but he couldn’t help but laughing at how cute you were. “I told you I’d never make you cry, y/n.”

“I just didn’t think you’d like him so much!” You explained, as he wiped your cheek. “I just really wanted you guys to like him, and you do, and I’m just really happy,” you laughed at yourself, your dad patting your head as your parents and Jay chuckled. Jesus fucking christ he would die for you, and although he wanted to make you cry in different ways, this was pretty adorable too.

“Oh…What are we going to do with you?” Your mom offered him a pitying smile. “Feel free to go home, it’s getting late. He pulled you closer, kissing the top of your head and wiping your face again.

“Love you,” he mouthed, before turning back to your parents. “Thank you for having me and being so kind, you both raised a great daughter and I’ll do my best for her.” They exchanged goodbyes, as you finally calmed down a little from your happy sobs.

“No, but really, why’d you guys like him so much?”

“Well, do you like him?” you nodded. “And he makes good choices?”

“Most of the time.”

“And he makes you happy?” You nodded again. “That’s all we could ask from someone. We want you to be happy, darling, now go get ready for bed, we love you.”

----

Two am, parents left for a business trip and would be back tomorrow night, and although you mostly cooled off from dinner you couldn’t help but giggle and kick your legs at seeing him in such a domestic, typical boyfriend-y setting. You heard three knocks on your window, as you rushed to open it, Jay practically scrambling in.

“Did they like me? Did I do good?” he asked immediately, shaking you by the shoulders.

“Where’d all that confidence go?” You teased, sitting on your bed as he paced around your room.

“What if they thought I was annoying or too loud or too talkative or--” You grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him down for a kiss.

“They would’ve called the cops on you then. You’re cute when you’re nervous though.”

“You literally cried tonight, don’t you dare tease me,” He pouted, kicking his shoes off and dragging you to cuddle in bed. “I’m just happy, you made it seem like they’d drive a stake up my ass.”

“You’re just lucky to be so likable,” you poked his cheek. He was pretty, features illuminated by your night-light, the smell of cologne lingering on his clothes.

“Where are your parents anyways?” He asked, stroking your hair.

“Business trip, they’ll be back tomorrow night.” Upon hearing this, he began dragging a finger down your spine, and without even looking you knew he was smirking. “You’re a liar, you know?”

“Why’s that?”

“You told me you’d never make me cry, but--” He grabbed your face to kiss you, free hand running over your sides, and you felt him smile into the kiss before parting to press his forehead against your’s.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle tonight.”

#enhypen x reader #enhypen jay fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen reactions #enhypen jay park x reader #I cant tell if I hate this or not #it was fun to write tho!#i hope this was okay!

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