#the reason why I’ve titled this fic the title it is I just need HELP!!! PLEASE!!!

[fenharel-babe]

Fandom….can anybody do my the favor of reading my draft of my new chapter of my fic (ya know the one) bc I need to see if it makes sense and flows naturally. I need some idea bouncing help😭.

[itsmarsss]

Vulgar Display of Power [Miguel Diaz x fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)

You can never fucking beat him in a fight and it's getting frustrating.

Request: omg more miguel please!!! smutty if u can xx already dating if you want? Fic title comes from my (second) favorite Pantera album. Word count: 4,350 Warnings: SMUT. established relationship, theres plot but it only serves to justify the sex lol, i use present tense in this, degrading, first time sub!miguel kind of, handjob, fingering, oral sex, penetration (p in v), semi-public sex (i guess? no one's around but the location isn't exactly private), a lot of use of pet names (baby, babe, love, mi amor), so much swearing. obviously no one is a minor here I don't mention much context but can be read as hs senior year or later, doesn't really matter. if you're a minor kindly keep away from my blog and this fic please

“Fuck!”  You yell out as Sensei Lawrence announces Miguel’s win. In turn of your frustration, Miguel sports a grin that playfully mocked you.

Now don’t get it twisted, you’re not a bad fighter. You’re not even a good one- you’re great. The best, except for…

“Diaz! Good one.” Sensei Lawrence praises.

“Nice, dude!” Hawk comes to fist bump him.

Tory comes to you. “Girl get it together! You’re better than that!”

“I’m fucking trying.”

Miguel hears the two of you talking and decides to insert himself into the conversation. “Come on, it’s not a big deal.”

“I say this with love but it is a big deal and I’m gonna find a way to beat you.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.”

[. . .]

“Hey,” you hear Miguel call from behind you, turning around for a split second to look at him before getting back to packing your stuff to leave the dojo. 

“Hey.”

“So, are we still on for tonight?”

“Yeah. I just wanna go home first and take a shower.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Hey are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something seems… weird.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe,” you tell him, bringing a hand to his face and lightly tapping his cheek.

“You sure?”

“Yes! I just said it is!” You realize you blew up at him for no reason, immediately feeling bad for it and apologizing, not managing to look at him. “Sorry.”

“See? That’s what I mean!”

“I really am sorry.”

“Okay, but something’s clearly wrong.”

You stay silent, and he walks up to you, cornering you so you’d face him.

“What’s going on?”

Honestly, you don’t want to tell him. Because it would sound stupid. Because it is stupid. You don’t even exactly know why it had gotten so under your skin this time. 

“It’s fine. I’m just a bit off today.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, but you don't have to lie either.”

“Fine. You wanna know what’s wrong? I’m frustrated because you keep beating me.”

“What?”

“Every single time we’re picked to fight I just can’t fucking beat you. And yes, I’m glad you don’t go easy on me, cause that would be like a million times worse, but I'm frustrated with myself. You’re the only one I've never fully beat in a match. The closest I’ve ever gotten to that was a tie.”

“Well most of the time it ends up in a tie.” 

“Yeah but none of the time did it end with me winning.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this.”

“Of course you don’t. I just feel like if I still can’t beat you then have I really been getting better?”

“What? That’s nonsense, babe. You know that, right? Of course you’ve been getting better. We all have.”

“See I told you it would be stupid. I don't even know why I'm feeling this way.”

“That’s okay. We can just sort that out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll ask sensei for the keys.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna stay here and fight and we’re not gonna leave until you win.”

“That’s really not what I was trying to get from this-”

“What, are you scared?” He knew just how to tug on your strings. 

“Oh fuck no.”

“Then we’re doing this.”

“But what about the date?”

“We can go tomorrow. If you need my help today, I'll help you today.”

“Okay.”

[. . .]

“Alright, ready?”

You only nod your head yes, too focused to even speak.

“Okay. Round one.”

You get a couple punches in, but he’s faster than most of your hits. He wins..

You huff, annoyed. “Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Okay that’s it. Again.”

This time, determination runs through your veins, as tired as you were. Every single moment of feeling weak or inferior or as though you were seen by others as basically the female equivalent of Miguel, and not yourself, not someone capable of being better than him in any way, channeled into this round. 

And you won. This time, you fucking won. 

“Wait that’s three,” you realize.

“Yeah! You won!” Miguel celebrates.

“What?”

“You won, babe!”

“Oh my God. Holy fucking shit. I won?!”

He laughs, coming up to you. “You did.” He places a quick kiss on your lips, but you’re taken over by the adrenaline, pulling him back to you by the collar of his shirt when he went to pull away, tangling him into another kiss, deeper and more passionate this time around. “That was hot,” he comments, as you finally did let him part ways with you to breathe, your bodies still flushed together. 

You feel your cheeks burn at his comment. “I just kicked your ass,” you joke.

He doesn’t even seem fazed by the comment. “Yeah you did,” he grins.

“I did not expect that to unlock some sort of loser kink in you.”

“Hey! That’s not what this is!”

You lift an eyebrow, amused. 

“What, you’re telling me it’s a crime if my insanely hot girlfriend looks insanely hot while kicking my ass?”

“Should I kick your ass more often then?”

“You’re welcome to.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Shut up,” he retorts, finally having enough of the playful bantering, unable to wait a second longer to have your lips on his again. 

Miguel pulls you even closer to him- if that were even possible- by pulling on your waist, not wasting a second more before diving in again, pulling you into a kiss that is much more feral this time around. His actions scream that he wants you, and the high from having reached your goal and beat him in the last round mixed with the lust forming in you from seeing him so affected, so attracted to this, it feels good.

You suppose some people would maybe come into an issue if they found themselves in your place. Men aren’t exactly known for being great at dealing with women being better than them in… well, anything. But Miguel acted genuinely proud of you. Hell, he’d canceled your date night to help you with this because he realized it was important to you. And more than being supportive, he was turned on by your display of power. 

His kisses start trailing out of your lips, to your jaw, to the space below your ear. “You did so well, love. You should get something in turn, huh?”

Your mind was getting a bit foggy. Still, you join in playing his game. “I suppose I should. What are you gonna do?”

“Whatever you want me to,” he breathes out. Oh. That was definitely new. 

“Whatever I want?” He only nods, looking up at you, waiting to be told what to do. Holy shit, that was hot. “That sounds good.”

“Just tell me, please, I’ll make you feel so good, I promise,” he pleads. It was almost pathetic. You decide you’d never get enough of hearing him plead like that. You loved the times in which he was more dominant, but you could definitely get behind this too, no issues whatsoever.

You pretend to think. “I don’t think I will.”

“What? Why not?”

“I want you to guess.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I- Uh- Ih-” he takes a deep breath. He liked that. You smiled. “I can do that.”

“Good boy,” you try, hoping he didn’t find it weird. 

Apparently, he didn’t. “Fuck. Fuck,” he lets out in almost strangled sounds, wordlessly dropping himself to the floor. He looks up at you with doe eyes, as if pleading for permission. You smile at him, signaling everything was okay. You cage his jaw with both your hands, and he closes his eyes for a moment, letting you play with his hair.

“You look so pretty like this,” you coo, and he feels it down his spine, his eyes fluttering open. 

“Sit.”

“What?”

“Sit,” he repeats himself, but it isn’t demanding. Not this time. 

“I heard you.”

“Sit, please, baby.”

You grin. You didn’t know you’d like this this much. “Of course, baby.” You sit down on the bench, legs closed. He parts them confidently, eyes not leaving yours as he does so slowly, positioning his body between them. With his face mere inches from yours, he looks up at you again. 

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He guesses. His cheeks red, he clearly looks embarrassed. It turned him on and it turned you on too. 

You nod eagerly, signaling he’d guessed right. He smiles and closes the distance between you, pulling you down and attaching his lips to yours. It starts out slow, tender, experimental- testing the waters. He grows eager pretty fast, though, kissing you harder, his hands traveling to either of your thighs and planting themselves there firmly, squeezing in a way that makes you gasp slightly in surprise. 

He pulls away just to tease you about it. That’s the kind of little shit he is.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” 

“Not this then?”

He squeezes your thigh again and you try to act unbothered.” He notices though, pleased with himself.

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He pulls you into a kiss again with no warning, more feral than before, his hand traveling upwards, inside the legs of the shorts you were wearing. 

“Take it off,” you pant out, a stern tone overtaking your words, and he complies without questioning. You smile, pleased with that. You lift your hips slightly for him and he throws the shorts somewhere on the floor behind you. 

He stares at your underwear for a few moments, as if lost in a trance. You laugh. “Hello? You here?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

“Used to what?” You move a hand to caress his face. 

“The fact that I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

“Aw, do you like that, baby? Does it turn you on?” You ask, your tone almost mocking him.

He only nods his head yes, looking embarrassed.

“That’s good.” You make a show to slowly take off your shirt, a sudden surge of confidence running through your veins at his words, discarding it along with the shorts behind you.  His eyes widen and he mumbles a few words, the volume of his words so low you couldn’t make it out for the life of you, before he just surges forward again, not aiming for your lips this time, but for your jaw. 

“What was that?” You manage to breathe out as he continues his trail of kisses along your jaw.

“What?”

“If you’re gonna talk you’re gonna let me hear it. Got it?”

“Oh-okay.” He continues to place quick, slight pecks along your jawline, but you know exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re not distracting me from that. I wanna know what you said, baby. Wanna hear you.”

“I said- I said uh-“ he gulps. “It’s dumb.”

“That’s okay.”

“I just said ‘fuck me’.”

You let out a small laugh. “Oh. It was dumb,” you mock him again, and you can see he didn’t expect that.

“What?”

“I though you wanted to fuck me,” you joke.

 He doesn’t take it as a joke. “I do. I do I just meant- it was just-“ oh. This was for real. 

“I know, love. I was just teasing you. Okay? You’re being so good to me.”

His eyes almost sparkle at the praise. 

“You know I think I changed my mind.”

“What?” 

“Maybe I should fuck you.”

“What do you mean?”

You look down on him and smile, a genuine sweet smile. “Get up.”

“But-“

“I thought you said you’d do whatever i wanted you to,” you fake-pout. 

He doesn’t say a word before standing back up. You do the same, keeping your body flushed to his. You slowly turn the two of you around, cornering him until the back of his knees hit the bench and pushing him to sit down on it. 

Standing in front of him, you tilt your head to the side as you take in the view. He looked disheveled as ever. You loved it. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.

“I- I can take it off.”

“Yeah I think you should.”

“What… what do you want me to take off?”

“Let’s go with the shirt first, baby. How about that?”

He nods furiously. “Yeah I can do that,” he takes his shirt off in a millisecond, throwing it with your clothes on the floor. 

“Oh, you look so pretty,” you coo, stepping closer to him and lifting his chin up to look at you. You make your way around the bench to be behind him, and you can see him gulp in anticipation. Fuck, you were loving this a little too much. You trace his biceps with your finger. “Your arms, I love your arms, you know that? So big and strong,” you exaggerate, and he quirks an eyebrow at the suspicious comment. This doesn’t sound like it was getting to a nice praising place. “And your body, I mean your abs. Your thighs, your thighs are so pretty, baby,” you crouch a bit, still behind him, wrapping yourself around his back so you could snake your arms to his thighs, still only tracing them with a single finger. “So how come you lost to me like a bitch?”

That seems to remind him very well of what was happening.

“It- it was one time.”

“One time you lost to me. But you’ve barely ever won, have you?”

He stays quiet. 

“Come on, baby, talk to me…” you pout, snaking your arms around his torso and kissing his neck.

“N-no.”

“Did you like that you lost to me baby?”

Quiet again.

“Did it turn you on?” You whisper in his ear and you can feel him take in big a breath. .

He couldn’t even look at you .

“Oh, pretty boy, I wanna hear your voice!”

He gulps again. “It- it turned me on,” he confesses. 

“I never knew you were into this sort of thing.”

“Me- me neither.”

“Do you like it when I’m stronger than you? When I tell you what to do?”

You remove yourself from his body entirely, and he whips his head at record speed to look at you, desperate for your touch again. You circle the bench once again, standing in front of him. You grab his jaw and lifts his head up to look at you, your other hand messing with his hair. “So pathetic. I’ve barely done anything to you and you’re this hard.”

You finally sit yourself down on his thighs, legs on either side of his torso, and he immediately and instinctively grabs your ass ‘for support’ as he’s always insisted with a grin. 

“You’re so fucking pathetic you’ll do anything I tell you to. Won’t you?” You pout, tilting your head.

“I’ll- I’ll do anything you want.” 

“That’s a good boy,” you mess with and pet his hair again. You loved it when it was just long enough for his curls to appear. 

He shivers. “Can you say it again?”

“Oh, no can do, baby. You’ll have to keep being a good boy to earn it.”

“I’ll- I’ll be a good boy, okay?”

You nod silently, your arms draped around his neck, and you pull yourself closer to get access to his face. You kiss along his jawline slowly, paying extra attention to the spots just under his ears, which made him shiver like crazy. When you find it sufficient, you move down to his neck, and he lets you, tilting his head to the side. You kiss down his neck, trying your best to not leave any marks. He’s still shivering now, and you know him well enough to know he’s okay, but can’t resist teasing him a bit more. 

“Oh no, baby, you’re trembling! Is everything okay?” You feign ignorance.  He doesn’t reply. “Aw are you too horny to speak to me? Is that the issue?” You mock.

He lifts his hips for some friction, an involuntary tell that he was enjoying this too. “Aw, do you like it when I’m mean to you? Huh?” You lift his chin again. He begrudgingly nods his head yes. You smile and move your hand from his chin to his cheeks, squeezing both off them. “Does my baby like it when I’m in control? When I handle you like this? When I call you names?” 

He tries to reply, but can’t really with you squeezing his face like that. 

“Oh I can’t hear you baby!” You let go of his face. “You’re gonna have to say it again.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I- I like it when you’re mean to me.” 

“I know, baby boy. I can feel it.” With no other warning, you palm him through his shorts. He was impossibly hard. Knowing he was liking this was for sure improving your confidence. The moment your hand meets his crotch his breathing becomes unsteady and he thrusts his hips up again, wanting more. You start kissing along his neck as you keep feeling him up through the shorts, and then he is gone. He lets himself let out delicious moans you would play on repeat if you could, tilting his head back to grant you better access to his neck. He wants more, and you know he does. But you want to hear him say it. 

After a few minutes, he does. 

“Please take it off.”

You press a gentle kiss to his neck, containing a grin. “What are you talking about, babe?”

“My shorts, take them off, please. Please, take them off.”

You press a quick peck on his lips this time. “You beg so pretty, baby. I think I’ll need more of that.”

He looks confused.

“Anything I tell you, right?” 

He nods. 

“Good. Eat me out.”

His eyes widen at the bluntness of it all. And then he realizes what you meant by needing more of his begging: you weren’t going to solve his little problem all that soon. 

“I- yes. Yeah.” 

You pull yourself off of him and he stands up as quickly as humanly possible, grabbing your hand and yanking you to Sensei’s office, rushing to move everything that was on his desk. You catch his drift and pull yourself up to sit on it. You’re so enthralled you don’t even really have the time to rethink what you’re doing and where you are. Miguel gets himself on his knees, and the sight of it from above is breathtaking. 

“Are you sure you wanna be on your knees? They’re gonna hurt.” You ask him, seriously this time.

“I don’t care,” is all he says, dismissing the thought. He pulls you closer to the edge of the desk, and you let yourself lean back on your elbows. He brings a hand up your thigh and takes off your underwear, you lift your hips up to help. 

He brings both his hands to your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, opening your legs. 

He wastes no time before diving in, startling you when, in a second, his head is between your thighs while his hands squeeze them hard and his mouth is suddenly on you. 

He moves his tongue up and down your clit, occasionally circling around it. Now and then he takes a long lick, from your hole to your clit, letting out a moan from time to time as he tastes you, and he picks up on the shaky breaths and loud moans you let out at that (and the way your hands fly to his hair, slightly pulling it.) 

He moves his tongue to your hole, licking and kissing around it before getting it inside.

It makes you almost want to scream out his name. 

“Oh my god. You’re being so good to me, baby. Please don’t stop-” 

You can feel his smile. 

He takes one of his hands off of your thigh and moves it to thumb at your clit as he keeps fucking you with his tongue. The feeling is heavenly, but you can’t help but want more. 

“Your fingers.” Is all you say, and he gets it.

Normally in a situation like this he’d be teasing you in some way, but right now just the thought of upsetting you with that and having you leaving him to finish himself off, or something down that lane, got him quiet. 

He changes what he’s doing, going back to flicking your clit with his tongue, and slowly inserting one of his fingers. You decide you want to tease a bit more. “That all you got?” You challenge him, knowing exactly what you’re doing. He inserts another finger, not taking the care to do it slowly this time, and he pushes them deep inside you, curling them upwards to make sure you felt it.

You let out a moan that’s so pornographic you’re almost embarrassed at it, but you can feel him grin at it, pleased with the reaction. He keeps on, but at a slow pace. In other instances, you didn’t mind some slow, passionate sex. You loved it, even. But right now you wanted to be fucked.

“Harder.”

He pulls his head up to kiss you. You let him. As you make out, your taste still on his tongue, his fingers thrust harder, deeper inside you, making you moan into his mouth, which Miguel seemed to enjoy a little too much.

You can feel yourself brimming an orgasm, and your words become nonsense as he keeps on, your noises becoming so higher-pitched you can barely register you’re the one making them. 

“Fuck I’m gonna cum. Baby, I’m gonna cum. Holy fucking-“

It hits you suddenly, killing your train of thought. Your body trembles as he keeps thrusting his fingers into you, letting you ride out your high. He laps it all up gladly, but you pull him away, your clit oversensitive. 

That doesn’t mean you didn’t want more.

“Everything okay?” 

“Yes, baby. You were such a good boy. But I want you to fuck me now.” 

Miguel was still not used to you being this blunt. And honestly neither were you, for the matter. The words just kept coming out. 

“What- what do you want me to do?” 

You get close to his ear and whisper. “Whatever you want, baby.”

His eyes widen. Whatever he wants. 

 He pulls you off the desk and wordlessly takes you back to the locker room. He leaves you for a second to retrieve a condom from his bag. A prepared man, you’d say.

You manage to take a better look at him and laugh. He furrows his eyebrows together. “What?”

“You look so fucked out right now.”

He rolls his eyes at you and takes off his shorts, kicking them away. He goes to pull his boxers down but you stop him, stroking him in an agonizingly slow pace. He lets out a groan. “Please stop, I’m not gonna last.”

“Oh poor you.” You yank his boxers down. His dick is so hard it must be painful. And all from losing a fight and being called mean names. He walks the two of you backwards until your back is against a wall. He puts the condom on and looks at you for a green light. 

“Go on, baby.” 

He nods, pressing his cock into your hole slowly, letting you adjust to the intrusion.

“Fuck.” You breathe out.

“Was that a good fuck or a bad fuck? Does it hurt?”

“I’m alright. It was a good fuck.”

“Okay.” He hikes up one of your legs to his waist, and you think he’ll be content with that position, but he hikes up your other leg too, pressing your back even more firmly to the wall and supporting your weight by holding firmly onto the back of your thighs. 

“Woah what are you doing?”

He doesn’t bother responding, thrusting into you experimentally. 

“Holy shit.”

That is enough for him. His thrusts become harder, deeper, faster. He hadn’t realized just how desperate he was until now. 

Hitting the spot inside you that made you see stars with every thrust, it doesn’t take long for his breath to quicken and his thrusts to become sloppier. “I’m gonna- can I-“

Was he trying to ask for permission to cum? Holy fucking shit, that was hot.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. You’ve been so good. You can cum.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” he chanted.

 You laugh as his desperation, but it quickly turns into a moan, with Miguel eager to cum and fucking you so hard now you can’t even understand how he could still hold up your weight while doing that. Bless you universe for giving you a strong, strong boyfriend. But all of that didn’t matter now, because he was fucking you so good you could feel the familiar sensation of an orgasm building again.

“Please don’t stop.” That was the first time you begged him for something the whole time.

“I won’t, mi amor.” Oh, that broke you. That one pet name didn’t come out all that frequently, so when it did, you felt giddy on the inside. 

With a few more thrusts, both of you reach your high, and at that point Miguel did have to pull you down, although your legs currently trembled so hard it was a little difficult to stand, but he helps you out after tying the condom up and throwing it away.

“Holy shit,” you finally let out. 

“Holy shit,” he agrees. 

“What were you saying about your loser kink again?”

“Will you shut up about that?” He smiles.

“Was I too mean to you? I might’ve gotten a little carried away."

He looks down to the floor in embarrassment as if he hadn’t just fucked you into oblivion. “I liked it.”

“That’s good baby. So, shower?”

“Yeah you stink,” he makes a disgusted face, plugging his nose and everything just to irritate you. 

You roll your eyes at him. 

A/N: pls be kind to me and cut me some slack i've never posted smut before 😭 i promise ive had sex before 😭 fighting for my life lmao

[shadowtriovibes]

can you write one where f!MC is being pursued by an annoying guy she doesn’t like who won’t take no for an answer. it annoys sebastian just as much as it annoys her, so next time it happens he pretends to be her boyfriend and suggests they start fake dating for good measure. eventually they make it for real.

thank you! i love the fake relationship trope sooo much and i’ve yet to see anyone write one with sebastian.

of course, lovely anon!! i haven't seen any fake relationship fic either so i'm happy to contribute a lil something! tbh i sincerely thought this would be a short ficlet but it ended up being just over 2.5k fluffy words of dummies in love 🤩

Title: rumor has it

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Summary: Eric Northcott is relentlessly pursuing you, so Sebastian offers to act as your heroic boyfriend to get him off your back.

"Northcott," Sebastian greets him, leaning against your potions station and resting a hand possessively on the small of your back. "Is there something my girlfriend can help you with?" "Your girlfriend?" Eric asks skeptically. "That's new." "I suppose it is," Sebastian agrees, nonplussed. "Been a long time coming, though." Across the room, Ominis laughs under his breath.

Sebastian Sallow is an excellent young wizard. Clever, well-read, focused – by all accounts, he should be a brilliant strategist.

But sometimes he comes up with the worst ideas you’ve ever heard.

“You musn’t be serious, Sebastian,” you laugh, closing your potions textbook to appreciate the actual madness of what he’d just suggested.

“Why not?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes as you tell him, “You can’t just pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Earlier that afternoon, the two of you had met up with Ominis in the Undercroft to study after staging a quick exit from the library. While Sebastian was hunting down a book on ancient runes, Eric Northcott had cornered you in the stacks and tried for the second time to convince you to have a Butterbeer with him at the Three Broomsticks instead of “hiding that gorgeous face behind those dusty books like you always do.”

When Sebastian had returned, you were shoving the Gryffindor boy away from you with a tense look on your face, and if he hadn’t just finished a stint of evening detentions for slipping a Puffskein into Duncan Hobhouse’s schoolbag, he would have hexed the amorous git himself.

Since then, he’d been suggesting ways to make him pay, with each idea more fantastical than the last.

“Sure I can, and we can even make a real show of it,” he says with a charming grin. “If you want to get Northcott off your back for good, let’s allow him to think your handsome, roguish boyfriend is the type who would challenge him to a duel if he tries anything untoward.”

“That is a terrible plan,” you deadpan.

“It’s actually not a bad idea,” Ominis chimes in.

You glare at him, because Ominis never thinks that Sebastian’s ideas are any good – even the ones that aren’t completely bonkers.

“What are you playing at, Gaunt?” you accuse him.

“I’m merely suggesting that Northcott may actually accept your contempt for him if it’s for a reason that allows him to save face,” he explains with a secretive smile. “Simply telling him that you’re not interested hasn’t seemed to work thus far, so why not be creative?”

“Creative?” you snort. “Wouldn’t ‘creative’ be blasting him myself the next time he lays a hand on me?”

“As if you need any worse of a reputation,” Ominis drawls, and he has a point.

“Come on, let’s really mess with him,” Sebastian pleads. “You know he deserves to be taken down a peg or two.”

You’re not surprised that Sebastian is able to get you on board so quickly. Truthfully, you think you’d follow him on his harebrained schemes just about anywhere.

“Fine,” you cautiously agree. “But just to scare him off, alright?”

You swear you can see the gears in Sebastian’s head start to turn immediately.

He kicks off his brilliant plan the next day during your N.E.W.T.-level potions class. You’re supposed to be brewing an antidote to Veritaserum, and while the draught itself isn’t necessarily difficult, some of the ingredients are a little tricky to prepare.

You’re focused on trying to carefully slit open some Sopophorous beans when you felt a presence behind you, and then Eric Northcott is draping his arm across your shoulders.

“Need a hand with those?” he offers, trying to sound congenial.

“I’m fine, Eric,” you insist.

“I’m really quite good at potions, you know,” he reminds you, grabbing one of the paring knives off the table and haphazardly slicing one of the beans you’d laid out. “I’d be happy to give you some hands-on lessons if you’d like, one-on-one of course.”

“Sebastian,” Ominis hisses from across the room, having picked up on the conversation while the other boy poured over his notes on wormwood. “Now might be a good time to offer some gentlemanly assistance.”

His eyes narrow when he spots Northcott leaning over your cauldron, clearly trying to sneak a look down your top.

“Don’t let my antidote burn,” Sebastian mumbles as he storms across the room, as if Ominis would ever spare a thought for Sebastian’s cauldron when the show is about to begin.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you watch him notice your predicament, silently pleading him with your eyes to do something to get you out of it.

“Northcott,” Sebastian greets him, leaning against your potions station and resting a hand possessively on the small of your back. “Is there something my girlfriend can help you with?”

“Your girlfriend?” Eric asks skeptically. “That’s new.”

“I suppose it is,” Sebastian agrees, nonplussed. “Been a long time coming, though.”

Across the room, Ominous laughs under his breath.

“Really?” Eric asks dubiously, briefly glancing at your expression. “I was under the impression that the two of you were just ‘best friends.’”

“Well, shouldn’t a good relationship start out as a friendship?” you counter, though you don’t sound entirely convincing.

“Right,” he says slowly.

“Mate, you know how tough she is,” Sebastian says with a charming grin. “Took me ages to convince her to give me a chance, she strung me right along for months.”

You jump slightly when Sebastian slides his hand across your back to your waist, tugging you closer to his side – and out from under Eric’s arm.

“But she finally took pity on me,” he says with a lovelorn sigh, and you narrow your eyes at his dramatics.

“Oh, Sebastian,” you reply, laughing nervously. “You’re hopeless.”

“Hopelessly in love with you,” he says, quickly leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth.

Before you can react, Professor Sharp wanders by and instructs you all to stop your dallying and focus on your draughts. Eric spares one more skeptical look at the two of you before returning to his cauldron.

Sebastian’s hand on your waist lingers for a moment even after he’s gone, but then he lets it fall.

“Sorry about that,” he says under his breath. “Had to sell it, you’re really a bad liar, you know.”

You think Sebastian doesn’t know the half of it.

(Sebastian’s just glad you avoided his gaze long enough to miss his deep red blush.)

—

As it turns out, the kiss wasn’t enough to convince Northcott that you were properly off the market.

The rumor mill quickly focuses on you and Sebastian – specifically whether or not it’s true that your platonic friendship has become something more.

“I don’t really believe it,” Nerida claims whenever the subject comes up. “Sebastian has always seemed like the bachelor type.”

“He could have had a girlfriend all this time and never has,” Violet agrees, trying to hide her bitterness. “I don’t think he really wants to be in a relationship.”

“Are you joking?” Imelda scoffs. “Sallow’s been a lovesick puppy over that girl for years, I’m just glad she finally came around.”

“She is very protective of him,” Grace speculates. “I remember when Samantha Dale asked him out last fall, I thought she was going to Depulso the poor girl clear across the courtyard!”

You do your best to ignore it, but Ominis stubbornly insists on telling you everything he’s heard.

“I would have thought that the two of you would be better at pulling off a ruse as simple as this,” he says, disappointment dripping from his words. “How hard can it be to pretend to like Sebastian? I don’t have to see him to know that the whole school thinks he’s handsome.”

“You don’t understand,” you sigh, walking alongside him on the way to arithmancy. “It’s… I don’t have to pretend, if you know what I mean.”

“Come now,” he says quietly. “I’m blind, not dim.”

“Then you do understand!” you whine. “How am I supposed to just let him pretend to be my boyfriend to ward off Eric and not go mad from knowing that it’s all a lie?”

“I suppose me telling you to be honest with him about how you feel would go in one ear and right out the other,” Ominis suggests, smirking to himself when you curse at him under your breath.

“Buck up, then,” he says simply. “I’m sure this whole thing will blow up in some spectacular way sooner than later – it is Sebastian, after all.”

—

As per usual, Ominis is correct.

Not even a full day goes by before Sebastian corners you outside the Hufflepuff common room and asks to walk you to dinner, taking your hand in his as soon as he notices some fifth-years studiously watching the two of you as you make your way to the Great Hall.

“I missed you this afternoon,” he tells you as he walks you upstairs, putting on a good show. “How come you didn’t want to study with Ominis and me after class?”

“I just needed to lie down for a little while,” you tell him, not wanting to admit to avoiding the way he’s been so unbearably charming lately.

“Feeling alright?” he asks concernedly.

“Yes,” you tell him. “Just… I don’t know. Out of sorts, I guess.”

“Anything I can do to help?” he asks.

You get distracted by the feeling of him stroking his thumb along your wristbone reassuringly.

“Um… n-no, I don’t think so,” you stutter.

“Surely there’s something I can do to help,” he says, and you wonder if you’re imagining the way his eyes look a little darker than usual, as if his pupils have entirely taken over.

“Like what?” you breathe.

Then he gets that look on his face that he always gets when he’s about to do something stupid.

“Come with me,” he says, tugging you over to a spot along the wall in the reception hall, next to one of those empty cabinets you’d looted for Nellie Oggspire back in your fifth year.

“Sebastian, w-what–” you stammer.

He presses you against the wall, one hand pressed to your waist and the other flat against the stone behind you, boxing you in. He glances around again and clearly spots whatever it was he was looking for, grinning mischievously before he leans in and traces his nose across your cheek.

“Don’t hex me for this,” he murmurs against your lips, and then he’s kissing you.

You melt against the cool stone wall, tipping your head back so Sebastian can tilt his head against yours and completely overtake your senses with his demanding kisses. Without consciously deciding to, you wrap your arms around his shoulders to hold him close to you, desperate to ensure he stays right where he is.

He kisses you well, you think. You know he’s always been a huge flirt, and that he has taken some girls in your year on dates to Hogsmeade over the years, but you’ve desperately avoided any post-date conversations with him because you did not want to know what he and those girls had gotten up to afterward.

Now you know, you think bitterly, but just as quickly you realize you don’t actually care. He’s skilled at this – nipping at your bottom lip to get you to open up for him, sliding his hand between your robes and your dress shirt so he can feel the curve of your waist, nudging a knee between your thighs to pin you even further to the wall.

“Bastian,” you murmur, tangling your fingers in his hair.

He groans against your mouth like he can’t help himself, and you whine a touch too loudly when he grinds his hips against yours.

Then you hear Eric’s voice call out, “Sallow!”

Sebastian looks like sin when he pulls away from you, and not just because his hair is a little mussed from your helpless tugging and his lips are red and swollen.

It’s because he’s smirking, and you quickly realize he’d planned this entire thing.

He’d pulled you to a spot where the Gryffindors on their way to dinner could easily see you being ravished, and it’s not just Eric he’s caught up in it – it’s Leander and Cressida too, some of the worst gossips in the entire castle.

…You are absolutely going to hex him for this, you think.

“Northcott,” Sebastian drawls as he turns around. “Can I help you?”

Eric looks furious, but at least he doesn’t look skeptical anymore.

“You might want to consider someplace a bit more private,” he offers, seething. “I am a prefect, after all. Could send you to detention for being so lewd in public.”

“Fair point,” Sebastian says easily. “In fact, maybe you ought to send us both. Hardly anywhere’s as private as the dungeons.”

You quickly smack Sebastian in the chest with the back of your hand, wordlessly begging him to stop before you actually do have to report to detention.

Mercifully, Eric simply throws a few choice words at Sebastian and stomps off to the Great Hall, Leander and Cressida on his heels to undoubtedly tell the entire school what just happened.

“You’re evil,” you hiss, still catching your breath. “You arranged all that just to embarrass Eric? To embarrass me like that?”

He frowns, confused. “No I didn’t, and I would never embarrass you.”

“You did!” you whine, shoving at his shoulders so he’ll step back. “They’re going to tell everyone and it’s going to make me sound like – like some pathetic girl who’s so desperate to avoid Eric’s attention that she’ll let her best friend feel her up in a busy hallway.”

“That’s not what they’ll think,” Sebastian argues. “And if anyone’s pathetic, love, it’s me.”

You scoff and wrap your arms around yourself, ashamed at how badly you wish you were still wrapped up in his arms instead despite everything you’re saying.

“You think I’m lying?” he asks derisively. “I’m a fool for you, and I would never hurt you. I kissed you like that because I wanted to, and if it happened to embarrass Northcott in the process, that’s even better.”

“Y-you wanted to?” you ask softly.

“I’ve wanted to for so long,” he finally admits.

His hands twitch at his sides like he wants to reach out for you, but he forces himself to behave.

“It’s the reason I came up with this stupid plan in the first place,” he sighs. “So that if anyone at this damn school gets to have the pleasure of walking you to class, or taking you to the Three Broomsticks or – or even kissing you senseless somewhere everyone could see, it would be me.”

You don’t have any words. But even if you did, there’s nothing you’d want to say to him that you couldn’t communicate by tugging him in by his collar and kissing him like you can’t think straight without his touch, so you do just that.

When you both break away to breathe, Sebastian quickly asks, “Are you actually hungry?”

“Not anymore,” you admit, your gaze still on his lips.

Sebastian barely manages to utter the words “Undercroft” and “hurry” in between kisses, but while he determinedly works a claiming bruise into the side of your neck, you whine, “Your common room’s closer.”

—

Once Ominis overhears Cressida waxing poetic about Sebastian Sallow practically mounting his new girlfriend in the hallway by the Grand Staircase, he doesn’t wonder why the two of you never show up for dinner.

[eds6ngel]

Can I request a Steve Harrington fic please?

Him and the reader are always throwing insults back and forth to eachother (enemies to lovers if you will) they’re both at a party, the reader on their own on the couch and Steve comes over to “bother” her. While bothering the reader he sees a girl he used to hook up with but told her that he can’t see her anymore (you can pick the reason why) and he begs the reader to act like his new girl for the rest of the night. He makes her pretend that they’re going up to a room for you know what👀 and the rest is up to you <3

mutual (dis)like ⋆˚✿˖°❀

steve harrington x fem!afab!reader

summary: with yours and steve's feud hitting the four-year mark, what will happen when you have to pretend to be his girlfriend for the night?

warnings: SMUT!! fem!afab!reader. unprotected p in v (pull-out method.) fingering. hickeys. kissing. consent checks. use of pet names (honey, baby, babe.) swearing. alcohol and drug use (everything is still consensual !!) r is 17, steve is 18. some angst and hurt in the middle. fluff and comfort at the end. [3.2k.]

a/n: thank you for requesting, lovely!! sorry it took so long, i experienced some writing slump :') but here you go!! i hope this is what you wished for ♡

To say that Steve and you didn’t get along would be an… understatement.

It all started when you joined Hawkins High in freshman year, Steve a sophomore. Tommy and Carol had decided it would be a fun idea to encourage Steve to target another one of the poor drama students, slowly adding to his ‘King Steve’ status.

However, what Steve thought would be an easy way to keep you down was quickly proven wrong. What he thought would be an easy bully session soon turned into an equal sparked feud.

Every morning at Hawkins High would be Steve turning up to your locker to bother you, you snapping back at him, before you both went your separate ways to class.

Tonight, Tina had invited you over to her house party to celebrate the end of the school year. You were thankful junior year was finally over, and Steve was grateful he actually managed to graduate.

You weren’t much of a partier, so to speak, so Eddie Munson always offered you some weed, which you were very grateful for. It helped mellow out the loud sounds of music and drunken states of sloppy teenagers.

However, like always, ‘King Steve’ (although, he had recently lost that title) came striding over to where you were relaxing on the vodka-stained couch.

“Of course you’re not partying. Why am I even surprised? How much did you suck Munson’s dick to get that bag?”

You scoff, taking another puff of your cig, “Not one bit, actually. Not all guys think with their dicks and some are actually nice around here. He doesn’t need to compensate like you do.”

He whistles as you stand up, smirking as you take a sip from the glass of whiskey in your right hand, “Oh yeah? And what makes you think my dick is so—”

However, Steve falls into a stunned silence as he notices someone very familiar behind you.

“So small? Well, I’ll have you know—”

“I need you to be my girlfriend.”

You splutter on the drink, coughing as you regain your breath, “Fucking hell, Harrington. Are you seriously that desperate—”

“Stephanie,” he blurts out, “She’s my ex-fling and I told her I couldn’t hook up with her anymore as I’d fallen in love with someone else and I need you to pretend to be that someone.”

You shake your head and laugh, “Uh… Yeah, that’s gonna have to be a no.”

About to turn around, Steve grabs your arm at the last minute. Damn, he must’ve really fucked things up for himself.

“Will you just do it? Every other girl in here I’ve either fucked or hates my guts, so—”

“I literally hate you as well, dickwad,” you cut him off, giving him a deadpan expression.

He leans in closer to your face, his eyes pleading as he says in a low whisper, “Yeah, but you’re also the only drama student I know, and if it’s anyone who can help me get out of this situation, it’s you.”

You take a deep breath in, before putting your joint out in the ashtray and your whiskey on the table, “Fine,” you arms flail, “But you better re-pay me for this… What do you need me to do?”

“So, this is the girl you fell for?”

Stephanie was definitely the IT girl around Hawkins. Beautiful blonde perm, luscious lashes, perfectly-shaped nails and an hourglass figure. Her entire outward persona made you feel extremely self-conscious, the whole story becoming even more unbelievable to you.

Steve wraps his arm around your waist, you trying to hide any signs of discomfort, “Sure is. This is my gorgeous girlfriend.”

Stephanie and her friends cackle, almost on level with a witches laugh, “You’re joking. Seriously? This freak?”

That word just made you shrivel up into a ball. You wanted to leave, to run away, to cry into your pillows. You could take insults from the guys, they would never understand what it was like to live in your shoes. But other girls? Women who went through the same universal experience as you living in this century? That stung. That cut deep.

“Steve, just leave it. This is ridiculous—”

But, before you can make your attempt at escaping, Steve grabs tightly onto your upper arm, “Yeah, actually, she is a freak. And for that reason, she makes a much better time than you ever did.”

Stephanie gasps, putting a hand to her heart, “Oh screw you and your shitty girlfriend, Harrington!”

“You know what?” he taps his chin with his finger, “I think that actually sounds like a great idea. You wanna head upstairs, babe?”

You nod subtly, “Yeah. Um… sure.”

“Sweet,” he takes a hold of your hand, “Don’t worry Steph, I’m sure someone else around here will happily take you for a good time.”

He winks, Stephanie scoffing and rolling her eyes, turning her back as the two of you make your way up to one of the spare bedrooms in Tina’s house. Lucky for you, the first room you came across was empty, not having to face the disgusting consequences of seeing two classmates going at it on the bed.

You’ve already parted from Steve, walking over to the other side of the room, hands interlinked behind your head as Steve closes the door.

He tries to make his way over to you, reasoning, “Look, I didn’t know she was going to call you that, I just—”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Steve?” you yell at him, tears streaming down your cheeks, breaths coming out ragged as you struggle to catch them in your throat.

“How is this my fault? I didn’t call you that! I didn’t know she was going to say that!” his voice rises, matching the volume of your own.

“Do you even know what it’s like to get bullied by someone of the same gender as you? It’s humiliating! If I can’t trust another girl to be nice, then how can I—”

“Actually, I do!”

His statement shocks you into silence. When in the world has Steve Harrington ever been bullied? He’s been king of the school for almost four years now. He was the bully himself.

“Look,” he takes your wrist, guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed, “This whole bullying thing that happened, I…”

He takes a deep breath, afraid to admit the real truth about their ongoing four-year feud.

“Tommy and Carol forced me into it. They told me to target you, and like the stupid person I was at the time, I followed through. But…”

Your eyes are filled with confusion, looking at the brown-haired boy with intrigue, his expressions confusing you, nervous as to what he was about to say.

“The longer it went on, the more I started noticing things about you. I saw the way you would doodle little animals in your notebook in Biology, the way you would always order the same food for lunch, Mac & Cheese, mashed potatoes and—”

“And carrots…” you finish off his sentence, looking at him with pure shock. But, the emotion quickly turns back into that same anger, “But… if you paid that much attention to me, why did you continue to target me? Even when you ditched Tommy and Carol, you still fucking continued—”

He sighs, frustrated and disappointed in himself, “Because… I was frankly embarrassed to be with you, which is 100% a me problem, nothing to do with you. I still couldn’t let go of the fact that I could fall in love with someone who wasn’t ‘popular.’ I kept bullying you in hopes that you would hate my guts so much that even the pure idea of dating you would be impossible. Which is probably true now, so… mission accomplished for me, I guess…”

His hand was holding yours now, you giving it a small squeeze as you replied, “I don’t hate your guts, Steve. I just…”

Always something else. You still hated him. You had to. He convinced himself of that.

“I saw you bully everyone else, and you hurt a lot of fucking people. I didn’t want to let you win. It wasn’t that I hated you, I just didn’t want to let my guard down. Didn’t wanna act like I did with Stephanie down there.”

Steve notices you grit your teeth at that. You were angry with yourself. Angry with your insecurities, your weaknesses, your lack of ability to so easily defend yourself from everyone.

“So… I continued to fight back. I needed to be strong. I couldn’t let myself break after all these years. I would only stop when you did which… I guess is now.”

You look up into his eyes. You don’t know whether he got closer or you did, or maybe you both closed some distance. Maybe your bodies were trying to tell you something your brains were actively fighting against.

“So…” Steve gulps, “You don’t hate me?”

You laugh softly, grinning from ear to ear. Steve had waited to see that up close for years.

“No, Steve. I don’t hate you. I never did hate you. I just rebutted off of your hatred of me.”

He chuckles, “Well, I don’t hate you either. In fact, I think I said a very different word to describe how I feel about you.”

He was the one leaning closer now. His attitude taking more of a flirtatious tone, eyes staring completely into yours, a mood you’d much rather reciprocate for a long period of time.

“You sure did.”

“And you don’t mind?”

“Absolutely not.”

He grins, lips hovering just above yours, “So I assume you wouldn’t mind if I also did this.”

You manage to purr out an “Absolutely not,” before slotting your lips between his.

Your hand naturally went out to cup his cheek, his palms resting neatly on your waist, gripping your dress tightly, wishing to feel your natural skin against him.

The kisses quickly turn desperate, a plea in the form of a whine escaping your throat as Steve takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

He lightly taps your exposed thigh, “Come on, pretty girl. Get on top of me.”

You turn to putty in his hands, following his exact orders as you swing your right leg over his body, straddling his lap. Both of your hands remain on either side of his face, his hands sliding lower, perching under the curves of your ass.

The desperation seeps from both of you, your teeth and tongues attacking each other’s necks like a dog in heat, leaving love marks on every inch you had access to.

Your hands explore underneath his shirt, feeling the sparse hairs of his happy trail tickle against your soft skin. Steve’s arms are already guiding yours, lifting his shirt over his head and throwing it to the floor behind you.

You can’t help but let your body take over from your mind, your hands roaming completely over his chest, feeling every muscle and curve he had to give. It was yours now. All yours.

Steve had taken his time tracing your thighs in his fingertips whilst you were divulging in his neck, ever so slowly pushing your dress upwards, bunched up against your waist.

“Can I? Will you let me, honey?” he asks, fingers sitting at the waistband of your panties.

“Do what you need to, baby,” you reply in a sultry tone, lips moving to his collarbone. However, as you soon found out, your lips wouldn’t be attached for much longer.

Steve didn’t even need much preparation. A quick slide up your slit, coating his fingers in your juices and he was slipping his middle and ring finger into your hole.

“Oh fuck, Steve,” you moan out, head falling back, eyes closing as you bask in the pleasure.

“Yeah, honey? Like the feeling of my fingers inside you?”

Your nails dig into his shoulder blades, leaving red marks as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. Despite this being your first time together, it feels as if he knows your body inside and out, catching all the right spots to send you to Heaven, fingers moving at just the right pace, curling into the perfect spot.

“Uh huh. You’re so good at this, baby.”

Baby, baby, baby. He could listen to that pet name escape your mouth every single day, especially if it was being whimpered from your vocal chords. The exact throaty strangle he needed to hear.

There’s a sudden curl of his fingers that make you shiver, Steve chuckling as he teases, “Yeah? That the spot, honey? Got you figured out already?”

“Mhm, Jesus, babe.”

“You wanna cum on my fingers, is that it? Fall apart for me, honey?” he taunts, you trying your hardest not to rock back onto them, bringing yourself closer to your release.

“Not on— Fuck, not on your fingers, baby…” Your hand snakes down to the bump formed in his jeans, pressing your palm to it as Steve lets out a groan.

“Oh, you wanna cum on my cock, is that it, honey? Wanna ride me?”

You nod ferociously, “Yeah, yeah. Wanna cum on your fat cock.”

Steve pulls his fingers out of you in an instant, you leaning down to un-do his belt, him shifting the material down his legs along with his boxers.

Your statement about his cock being fat was apparently no lie. His dick hit his stomach, slightly curved to the right, cut, and had to be around 6 inches, a girth of over 5.

You had to contain yourself from drooling, grabbing his dick in your hand and rubbing it against your soaking pussy.

The mere touch of your hand around him had him containing a moan, watching in delight as you lined yourself up above him.

“You good?” you ask him, making sure he’s on the same line of thought as you. This was all so sudden after all, you had to make sure.

“Better than ever, babe.”

You took that as your cue to sink down onto his cock, moans filling the air as Steve gripped onto your ass tighter, ready to guide you if you needed.

“Can I move? Please let me move, Steve. It’s okay, I’m good.”

“Take it away, honey. You can call the shots here.”

“Okay…” you whisper as you lift yourself up, before slamming back down, Steve letting out a choked moan. Soon enough, you begin to find a steady rhythm, your wetness allowing for a ‘slosh’ sound to fill the atmosphere every single time you lowered yourself. With Steve’s balls hitting your ass, it’s like you transcended into Heaven. Why did you ever have meaningless hook-ups when it feels this good with a man who loves you?

Not giving as much as he’d liked earlier, his teeth attack your neck again, pulling and tugging on the skin before soothing it with his warm tongue. His hands help guide you up and down, him trying his hardest not to thrust his hips up into yours. He let you be in control here, and he wasn’t going to take over that unless he needed to.

Your hands come to cup the back of his head, eyes closed as your practically squished up against his face, letting him lean into your chest, feeling his lips press tender kisses between your breasts.

“Ah, ah, ah” is all that can escape your mouth. You’re too far gone at this point. You didn’t even realise the pace of your hips were slowing until Steve’s grunts increased and his cock was hitting a spot so far back that you didn’t know it existed. But, all that you cared is it felt good. Really good.

You could feel the knot begin to tighten in the pit of your stomach, even Steve’s thrusts becoming sloppy, uneven, his cock twitching inside of you, ready to burst any second.

“Shit, gonna cum soon, babe. Where do you want it?”

“I’m close too, baby,” you pant, “I’m not on anything, so my stomach, please.”

“Gonna hold off for you, honey. Wanna feel you tighten around me. Wanna feel you strangle my cock. Can you do that for me? Strangle my cock?”

“Uh huh,” you nod, basically becoming limp in his arms as he continues to pound up into you, your release building and building, before the tide quickly spills over.

“Shit, you’re so tight, honey. Such a good girl for me, fuck.”

Steve is struggling to hold off. The loud noises you are moaning directly into his ear, combined with the tightening of your walls around his cock has him gripping your ass for dear life.

As soon as your moans begin to settle, he quickly pulls out of you, beating his cock until his head is thrown back, four spurts of his cum landing onto your stomach, the rest pooling around his hand and falling onto his happy trail.

You’re sat on his thigh, head leaning against his shoulder as you both pant, his hands now tracing circles on either side of your waist, trying to catch your breaths and enter your post-orgasm hazes.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” Steve lets out, lifting your chin so he can lean the side of his face against yours, a sloppy kiss being pressed to your cheek. “I love you so much, and I know that’s really soon, so don’t feel pressured to say it back, but… I just needed to say it again.”

“It’s okay,” you nod, “I get it. It is a lot and I’ll say it in due time, okay? And hey… you’re pretty fucking amazing too. But…”

Steve begins to panic at that, but your next words just make the two of you laugh, “The feeling of your cum drying on my stomach is not as pleasant, I’m afraid.”

Holding onto your hips, he stands up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the bathroom to clean you up. “Don’t worry honey, I got you. You just relax for me whilst I get you cleaned up.”

“M’kay… Thank you… for everything.”

He smiles at you, wiping the cum from your stomach with some toilet paper before throwing it in the trash can. He looks back at you, admiring your blissed out state. Your make-up was ruined, hair astray, but you never looked more beautiful to him.

He holds your chin as you slot your lips together once again, him mumbling, “’Course beautiful girl. You deserve it, ‘kay? Now… Tina won’t mind us sleeping in here, right?”

You shake your head, “Should be fine, baby. A sleep sounds good right now.”

“Mmm,” he mumbles, lifting you up into his arms from where you were perched on the toilet seat, carrying you back to the bed and tucking you in, before climbing in next to you.

He wraps his arm around your waist, dragging you closer to him as he presses one final kiss to your cheek. “Goodnight, honey.”

“Night, baby.”

taglist: @tlclick73 @joekeerysmoles @ellharrington @agxxb

[its-time-to-write]

i hold it like a grudge - ch. 2

I forgot to mention, the chapter titles/series name comes from the song, “the grudge.” I’d highly recommend listening to it at least once to get the feel I was going for in this fic, or at least what influenced parts of it.

table of contents try to be tough

It’s raining, not completely unusual for early August, and it feels like a reset. The air smells clean and fresh, and you know that it’s going to be a slow workday. You pull out your computer and check up on your online orders and update some posts on social media. You’re gaining serious traction, with reposts and likes from some American celebrities. Shit, with the way things are going, you could sell your flat and buy an actual house.

The grudge you hold against Jamie doesn’t seem so huge at the moment. It’s still there, but it no longer feels as though he pulled the rug out from under your feet. For the first time, you’re allowed to think about other things than the struggle he left you with. For example, why did he leave you in the first place? You hadn’t considered about it since cutting up everything he ever gave you, too busy with the all-consuming thought how will I survive?

It hurts, hurts much more than you think it still should. 

The two of you grew up together in the same council estate, right next to each other. You terrorized the neighbors while your mothers discussed money and shared food and scrounged together what they could to support both of you. 

When you got older and he was scouted for footie and headed for the academy, you still called him almost every day. He’d listened when you cried about your mum and watched her fade away right in front of you.

He’d gotten leave and come home for her funeral, and helped you pack everything up to either sell or to move next door with Georgie.

Jamie had been there for every part of your life, just as you’d been there for him when his dad came around, or he got yelled at by his teachers. 

He knew you, knew how much it meant that he stayed. Knew how much the support meant, and the way you both had clawed your way to get at least close to the top.

This plagues you as you wrap pickup orders for the day and place them in their spots behind the counter. 

You’re coming to the conclusion that he did it on purpose, that he must have known exactly what he was doing and somehow decided you deserved it, when a customer comes in out of the rain.

“Morning!” you say. “I have your order all ready for you. And it’s all paid for, so nothing else is needed on your end.”

Keeley says “Thanks,” with far less energy than she showed the other day with Jamie.

You ask, “You alright?” before you can stop yourself. 

She huffs out half a laugh. “Yeah, fucking great. Life’s just peachy at the moment, as I’m sure you’ve read in The Sun.”

You hadn’t, but you’ve a good guess what it has to say.

“I’m sorry,” you say as she takes the earrings. 

She just laughs again, short and grating. “Yeah. Y’know, I’ve been on all your socials. Read your website about empowering yourself and all that. Part of the reason why I wanted to come here, actually, y’know, fucking… girls supporting girls.”

You nod, unsure of what to say.

“I’m glad you’re getting the success you deserve, babes. Your bio said you went through a lot of shit to get here. Guess I’m still in my ‘lot of shit,’ part of life, you know? Anyway.” She goes to leave, jewelry tucked safely into her purse.

You think, fuck it.

“Keeley?” you ask hesitantly. She turns back around to face you.

“I just- I’ve been with someone who didn’t value me. Who didn’t hold himself accountable. It didn’t start that way at first, it was a lot of fun, but it ended up hurting me. I haven’t been able to trust anyone like that since, and I don’t want you to end up like me. You don’t have to stay with him. You can have a whole life all on your own, you know?”

Keeley gives you a small smile, says, “Thank you,” and heads out the door.

—

I deserved it.

Those words ring in your head as you walk home. You don’t bother to open your umbrella, opting to let the rain fall as it will in some form of absolution.

I deserved it.

You shut the door to your flat and drop your clothes on the way to the shower. You turn the knob to scalding, and let the suffocating steam fill the bathroom.

I deserved it.

The rain hits the roof with more force as you drink half a bottle of wine in lieu of dinner. It’ll hurt you tomorrow, but you don’t work tomorrow.

I-

No. It’s 3am, and you’re awoken from vivid dreams of your mum and Georgie and Simon, of Keeley, and of fucking Jamie. 

No. You didn’t- you don’t deserve it. 

“No,” you say aloud. “I know how to swim. I made it.”

With that pronouncement, you pull your blankets tighter around you, slipping easily into a dream where your mum holds you and whispers, “I’m so proud of you.”

—

It’s another rainy day in Richmond. The sky is dark and cloudy, and you can hear the sound of drops hitting the pavement as soft music plays in the shop. You haven’t seen Jamie or Keeley in a while, but his face is stuck all over Richmond, just like you predicted. 

Every time you see it, you think a calm, fuck you and continue walking. You didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve you.

You’re working on an order when the door chimes and Keeley Jones breezes in.

“Hi, welcome back! Jamie buying you more jewelry?”

Keeley grimaces. “Broke up with him a bit ago, actually. Thought a lot about what you said about accountability, then a friend of mine used the exact same word. It’s a little bit shit, but like you said. I can have a whole life all on my own, yeah?”

“Yeah!” you hastily reassure. “I promise you, it’s fucking brill without him. Hard at first, but you have to know your value.”

She grins a little half-grin and places the Keeley earrings on the counter.

That’s not unexpected, people often want to get rid of gifts from their ex, but you do still have a business.

“I’m so sorry about your breakup, but we can’t really do returns. Everything’s custom, so…” you trail off.

“Oh!” Keeley says. “No, I actually came back because I really fucking love these earrings, and I want something else to go with it. What d’you recommend?”

“Oh!” you parrot. “Well, we have necklaces. The charms are the same style, I can make a mockup for you if you give me a minute.” You turn around to pull out some boxes, and hear the door jingle. The air in the room changes ever so slightly and you know without looking who has just stepped in.

Jamie looks back and forth between you and Keeley, like he didn’t expect to see either of you there. 

That fucking drowning feeling, the one you worked so hard to get over, comes back in full force. 

“Hey,” Jamie says hesitantly, “um, I’ll just-” 

He leaves as quick as he came.

Keeley gives you a strange look. “What the fuck?” she laughs. “Was he looking for me? How the fuck did he know where I was?”

You tear your eyes away from the space Jamie just occupied. It’s been what, a month since the first time he came into your shop? Longer? It feels right and wrong somehow, like it’s both at once; you and him, in the same room, just like it’s always been. Like no time has passed. 

But time has passed, and more importantly the time for you to respond to Keeley has passed. You’ve been quiet a beat longer than normal, and she catches it. Keeley’s a smart girl, smarter than she’s given credit for. She’s puzzling out all the information she has, and you can practically hear it all bouncing around in her mind.

Something clicks into place. You see it in the way Keeley’s entire expression changes. She claps a hand over her mouth and exclaims, “Oh shit!” 

You don’t have a a chance to say anything because she looks at you with horror in her eyes and says, “It was Jamie.”

“What do you mean?” you ask carefully. 

Keeley’s still processing. “It was Jamie,” she repeats. “That’s your ex. The one who didn’t hold himself accountable, the one you said cheated on you. Oh my god, I’m the other woman! How could I do that to you?”

Keeley is having an epiphany mixed with a heart attack.

“You didn’t know!” you argue. “You didn’t know, and you never would have done it if you had.”

“I’m so fucking sorry,” she moans.

You grab her arm. “Keeley. You. Didn’t. Know. It’s been over a year. I’m fine.”

She snaps out of it a little bit, but still looks dazed as she says, “Why the fuck have you been so sweet? You knew exactly who I was.”

You lift a shoulder. “Jamie… he’s like a magnet. I dunno. I get what it’s like when he looks at you, it’s like you can’t believe that someone that wonderful even notices you. And I guess I understand why he dumped me, you know? We’ve known each other since we were kids and it’s fine if you have a regular job, but if you’re a fucking Premier League footballer… probably best to stick with models.”

Keeley walks over to the door and flips the sign to “closed.”

You look at her quizzically, but she just leans against the door and whispers, “I didn’t know you knew each other that long.”

There’s no good response to that statement, so you chew on your lip. For a long moment, you two just stare at each other.

Finally you say, “Okay. Fuck this. We’re going to my flat and we’re going to eat a shit ton of food and get absolutely smashed.”

table of contents

[dapper-zappa]

His Conejita, Her Spider. | Miles Morales

Pairing: Miles Morales x Fem!Civilian!Reader

Summary: While you're hanging out in your boyfriend's place, a particular sketch in Miles's room intrigues you and then you get to know the meaning behind it.

Word count: ~1,5k

Warnings: Fluff, established relationship, cute Miles, Uncle Aaron death mention, Mama Rio interrupting some couple's time 😭

A/N: I love how the "Childish Gambino inspired Miles" thing has come full circle so don't mind Miles and Y/N talking abt him in the first part of the fic. If you find any mistranslated Spanish, please let me know abt it <3

Today’s one of those days where Miles invited you to his family’s place because hanging out with his girl is simply one of his favorite things to do, other than drawing various kinds of doodles in his sketchbook. While the two of you don’t have any homework for now, there’s nothing better than to spend the time together… right? Miles’s family also grew a lot on you to the point you almost see his mom Rio as an aunt figure and his dad Jeff as an uncle figure. 

“Hi… Mr. and Mrs. Morales. I’m Y/N L/N, Miles’s classmate.” you greeted shyly. 

Rio let out a warm chuckle. “Oh mija, no need to be shy around me. Feel free to call me Mrs. Morales or Tía Morales, I’m fine with both though so you’re welcome.” (dear)

“You must be Miles’s new girlfriend!” Jeff joined. “Kinda wish his uncle Aaron is still here because he’d love to see his little nephew together with a girl he pulled up, though.” he whispered into your ear, much to Miles’s annoyance. 

“Dad!” 

The tunes from various songs in Miles’s playlist flowed through the earbud you shared with him in your ear. One of his hands linked with yours the entire time he talked about why he loved the artists featured in his playlist, and you couldn’t help but smile the entire time at your doe-eyed boyfriend passionately rambling about his favorite artists. 

He’s an artsy boy who enjoyed drawing and making , but also in love with music and how it made the world feel more alive, according to him. And you loved him for that because while you’re not an artist yourself, listening to Miles’s rambles about his favorite artists and seeing the drawings he drew by himself made you appreciate the hard work between them more. Even the fact your boyfriend’s mostly self taught in art.

“So I’ve been thinking…” you mused, getting absorbed in the song currently playing from your earbud. 

“Hmm? Told you that you’d like Childish Gambino.” Miles gently nudged your arm. “It’s obvious I love Sunflower by Post Malone at this point but dude’s discography is like, everything to me-“ 

“No no no no, it’s just that for some silly reason, whenever I look at his face… he kinda reminds me of your uncle from the photos here. I can’t exactly describe why but maybe it’s because of his entire vibe? Like, both him and your uncle have this sort of warm, approachable chill vibe? ” you giggled, trying your best to dismiss how silly your brain was being right now. “I honestly don’t know.” 

He thought about what you had just said about one of his favorite artists and his uncle for a brief moment, nodding once he found himself agreeing with it. 

“You know what, you’re right.” he flashed you a dopey grin. “Actually my uncle introduced me to Childish Gambino first.”

“Wait, what? Miles, are you serious?” 

 “Cielo, I’m serious.” he immediately paused the music from his phone. “So it all started with that one time I heard ‘Me and Your Mama’ blaring in my uncle Aaron’s place, then when he told me about the song’s title thanks to him noticing me jamming myself to it, he also said that the song reminded me of my dad falling in love with my mom. While he just thinks Childish Gambino is neat, for me his music means a lot because I was really close with my uncle and he always comes up in my mind whenever I listen to one of his songs.” 

“That explains why he pops up quite a lot in your playlist.” you said. “I like that. You’ve got a great taste.”

Miles shyly scratched the back of his neck. “You do? Well thanks, I mean- yours isn’t so bad either.” 

The more you hung out in Miles’s place, the more you loved his place and his family because of how close you were now with him and his parents. Though you just noticed a particular object displayed on his desk began to arouse the curiosity within when your head turned to face the desk he often used as both his little art studio and his study desk. 

It was a drawing of you with for some reason, rabbit ears on top of your head smiling gleefully, along with sunflowers surrounding your smiling face. It was a really beautiful artwork, from what you’ve seen. Out of the many impressive works made by your boyfriend, it’s definitely your new favorite as of now. 

“Why, thank you!” you beamed, though your demeanor suddenly shifted into a nervous one as your eyes briefly glanced at his desk. “But if you don't mind… Can I look at the little drawing on your desk?” hesitatingly, you pointed at the artwork on his desk but Miles cut you off before you could say anything else.

His eyes widened at the mention of the piece of artwork you were referring to. “Y-you sure you wanna look at it?” he stammered, standing up from the bed. 

“Yes.” 

Walking towards his desk, he picked up the paper before sitting back on the bed and handing it to you. 

“I hope you’ll like this one.” 

You took the paper from his hands and now focused yourself on the drawing depicted on the paper. You couldn’t believe your eyes as you finally got to see it right in front of your eyes. From the precise ink strokes in the sketch that made up your face’s exact likeness, how the drawing pops from the vibrant yellow, orange, and pink used in it, and to the silly little addition he chose to add this time in the form of bunny ears, you couldn’t help but love the drawing (and Miles himself) more than before. 

“You like it, cielo?” His question made you snap out of your trance.

“This is way more than beautiful, babe!” you squealed, immediately wrapping your arms around him. “I can’t describe how perfect this drawing is and the sunflowers are the best addition because they look so bright and like, everything about this is so amazing.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” he replied. 

By this point, both of your faces were beaming with happiness. You from being impressed by your boyfriend’s art skills, and Miles, from the fact you loved this doodle of you that he had drawn. Keeping your arms placed on his shoulders, you slightly pulled away from the embrace in order to face him while his hands reached for your waist. 

“But one question, Miles.” you retrieved the paper again and shoved it directly in front of his face. “Why the bunny ears? It’s not like I hate them or anything, I just wanna know why.” smirking, you waved the drawing to tease him until he revealed the answer..

He playfully shoved the paper away and gave you the biggest and proudest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen as he pulled you closer by the waist, before whispering in your ear. 

“Because you’re my cute little bunny rabbit. That’s why I often call you ‘conejita’, because it literally means ‘bunny’ and the sunflowers represent how much I love you and how happy you make me.”

Before you could say anything, you were interrupted by Rio clearing her throat. You immediately scrambled away from Miles and caught the sight of her holding 2 mugs of steaming hot chocolate standing in front of his bedroom door.

“Just wanna say that I made some hot chocolate, kids!” Rio chimed in as she set down the mugs on Miles’s desk. “And my oh my, Miles, looks like you and Y/N were having some serious love conversations right now from the looks of it.” she teased, putting her hands on her hips. 

“Mamá, ¿por qué no llamaste a la puerta?” Miles whined.  (Mom, why didn’t you knock the door?)

“Dios mío, Miles, ¿no te diste cuenta de que dejaste la puerta abierta?”  (My god, Miles, didn't you notice that you left the door open?)

“I’m sorry, mamá, I forgot to close the door so I didn’t notice you were coming.” 

“Está bien, mijo. Just make sure next time you don’t do it again, okay?” Rio gently patted Miles’s shoulder before she headed to leave her son’s room, only for her to pop her head back in, much to his annoyance. (It’s okay, dear.)

“What again, mom?” 

“I love you both!” she winked, closing the door and truly leaving from the room this time. 

Leaving the tiny awkward moment you two just had because of your boyfriend’s mom barging in, you both continued your previous activities of just chatting with each other while listening to each other’s playlist. It’s really sweet to know that the symbolism Miles put in the drawing of you with bunny ears meant wonders to him thanks to his adoration for you. Now you get why movies and artworks tend to be careful with the colors or details depicted there, because symbolism were pretty much seemingly small things that actually mean a lot, like why Miles chose to draw you with bunny ears and sunflowers around you in the artwork. 

You’re his bunny rabbit, and he’s your spider. How cute is that?

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Love is Easy (M) ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | Established Relationship Warnings: Christopher is Intense™ but so is the MC so i guess they’re even, pet names, graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut), sickly sweet i think you might get cavities if you’re a hopeless romantic. gentle reminder that Chris’ girl is curvy/chubby/thick/however you wanna call it :) Word Count: ~10k | AO3 Summary: After two years of living among werewolves, of being an important member of their pack, you finally get to partake in one of their most important activities: their ‘monthly camping trip’. [This story is an instalment of my WereRoomies series].

Author’s Note: when i think i’m over them, i just circle back to Chris and his girl. i wanted to give some depth to their relationship, so i guess here this is ! the title of this piece comes from McFly’s Love is Easy, a song i feel could’ve had this werewolf!Chris having an epiphany.

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments:  It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.

Smut Warnings: possessiveness · intercrural (four fics later i realise i’ve inadvertently given this man a thigh kink, oops) · oral [F.Rec] · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but the reader is presumed to be on birth control] · creampie · typical roughness that comes with having intercourse with a full alpha werewolf I GUESS

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Becoming one of the main pillars of a pack of werewolves was something you never truly expected to happen in your life.

Two years ago you didn’t even know werewolves existed, you thought it was all a mix of myths and legends, all part of the supernatural and fantasy genres in books and media. Which was why, when you moved to this building, you would’ve never guessed you were moving into a werewolf den. You couldn’t have even imagined that the warm, welcoming man looking for a roommate was a werewolf himself.

As soon as you found out of their condition, though, it was as if a switch flipped, and suddenly you were helping all these people living in this place, providing emotional support when needed, giving advice, or simply being there for them when they needed you. Hell, you even started coordinating the communal finances of the entire pack. All of a sudden these seven neighbours of yours started calling you mother–mostly in what you thought was a joking manner–and when you asked your roommate about it at the time, he had simply blushed a bit and explained to you that they started to see you as the ‘Pack Parent’, mostly because of the support you always gave them, because you were always there for them.

Your roommate, Chris, obviously failed to mention that the other reason for them to start calling you that was because he, the alpha of their pack, was harbouring a crush on you, so his packmates liked to tease him for it, alluding to the fact that, if you were to become romantically involved with him, you would indeed be in the position of being their pack’s ‘mum’. 

Although you were well aware of the role you were filling in, and what it typically meant, you fell naturally into the position due to your own personality traits–your need to help those close to you, your emotional maturity, to name a couple–you never really thought of what that could or would mean for Chris and you. Even if you were great at helping others with their problems, you were a bit dense with things that involved you directly, like Chris’ crush on you, which, looking in retrospect, was really obvious–just like your crush on him was, but he also didn’t seem to pick up on it at the time.

It took around a year of you living with him, of you being an important member of his pack of werewolves, for you both to finally become A Thing. And even then, the way you got together wasn’t exactly… Conventional. One ovulation cycle had unexpectedly sent your dear roommate into his rut, and in the process, you somehow ended up helping him through it by, essentially, letting him fuck you silly for days on end. You certainly skipped a few steps at the beginning, but your relationship with Chris was smooth sailing after that.

Sure, he still got on your nerves sometimes, just like he used to do when you were just roommates; silly things like the way he left the spice containers misplaced after cooking, or the fact that he couldn’t leave the goddamn toilet lid closed, or how he would often forget to lock the door at night–just how you knew he just couldn’t stand the way you loaded laundry. In fact, your only major disagreement since your relationship started happened because you just couldn’t stand the fact that he wouldn’t take care of himself as much as he should.

Chris was a grown man, he led his pack of misfits almost flawlessly, and he had a stable job as a software engineer that he was dedicated to. Maybe a bit too much. Chris was so good at his job and at taking care of the people around him that he would often forget to fulfil his basic needs, like keeping hydrated and eating proper meals at appropriate times, something that you couldn’t help but worry about constantly.

Contrary to what your place within the pack might lead people to believe, you weren’t there to mother your grown-ass werewolf boyfriend, so after one too many texts of ‘oh yea forgot to have lunch lol’ you just exploded–maybe a bit too dramatically, you’d admit, considering it wasn’t something he was doing on purpose–the entire thing leading to that only major argument you’d had with him as of yet.

At the time, once both of you had calmed down, you simply apologised for the way in which you delivered your message, and Chris did acknowledge the fact that, yes, he wasn’t taking care of himself as he should, but he had stressed the fact that he really didn’t expect you to mother him in any way. And to his credit, he did get a bit better with his self-sabotaging habits–emphasis on a bit, but he was certainly trying his best.

Other than that, though, everything was great. You’d never truly had such a balanced, healthy relationship before, which was kind of funny, considering your boyfriend was, in essence, a supernatural being. A fact that somehow didn’t bother you in the slightest, but it did bring some challenges, mostly because, since you were but a mere human, there were many behaviours or traditions you simply didn’t understand from the get-go, so you had to educate yourself as much as you could. Which was something you had already been doing since you were only roommates, something that you were sure you would have to continue doing for as long as you lived among his kind, and, by the time you neared your two year mark living at their den, you honestly didn’t think you’d ever leave.

Sometimes, though, you did worry about the fact that you weren’t exactly like Chris and his friends. That worry grew a bit the more you realised how important you had become to them, and how important they had become to you. There was nothing that you wanted more than to do well at the role that you had taken in the pack, and since you became the pack apha’s partner, there was something you hadn’t gotten around to do, and it was bothering you–even when the rest never really said anything on the matter.

“You think I can go with you guys this time?” The entire time you had been lying on this sofa with your boyfriend you had been building up the courage to ask that question, and now that it was out, you certainly felt a bit relieved.

“To Disney?” Chris chuckled, looking away from the TV currently playing an ad for Disneyland to look at you instead.

“No”, you couldn’t help but chuckle. Removing yourself from Chris’ embrace, you sat straighter, straddling him as you settled your hands on his chest, looking down at him. “Wanna join you on your monthly trip”.

Once a month, when there was going to be a full moon, Chris and his pack went on a trip to the woods–it was their ‘monthly camping trip’, as they called it. They would usually be gone for a couple of days, a few at most, and whenever they came back they always looked refreshed, invigorated. Chris had explained to you that basically all they did was go for a run through the woods, they’d simply shift into their wolf forms and run for a few hours.

‘It helps greatly to relieve stress, especially the stress induced by just… You know, existing as both a human and a wolf. That’s why we always come back looking so relaxed. Plus, the moon’s just… Can’t explain it but running under the moonlight feels just so freeing. Especially when it’s full’, Chris had told you once when you were still just roommates, and you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since.

“Baby…” Chris’ hands sneaked under the hem of your pyjama shorts to softly caress the skin of your thighs. “You know it can be… Dangerous. We can get very, uh… Animalistic. Which is why we’ve never taken a human to one of our trips”.

“I know…” Your fingers lightly tapped on Chris’ chest, and your eyes moved away from his to stare at the movement. “But… Don’t you think it’s weird that I’ve never gone on one of your trips?”

Removing his hands from under your shorts, Chris cupped your rear, lifting you up just enough so he could sit up and place you back on his lap, settling his hands on your lower back as he looked at you. “Why would I think it’s weird?”

“I mean… We’ve been together for a while now, and I’ve been living here with you guys for even more than that”, placing your arms around Chris’ neck, you wiggled a bit, crossing your ankles behind him once you found a more comfortable position to sit on his lap. “Kinda feels like… Like I’m not doing what I’m supposed to be doing, you know?”

“What do you think you’re supposed to be doing, pretty?” The confusion was clear in Chris’ eyes, and honestly, you couldn’t blame him.

“Helping you out”, you replied simply, and you literally saw the moment your words started to really make sense in Chris’ brain with the shift in his eyes, that look of confusion turning to a glint of concern almost immediately.

“Baby, it’s not something you have to do. You know that, right? You… Always help out in many other ways”, Chris pulled you further into his lap, almost pressing his chest to yours. “In many, many, less dangerous ways. Hell, you already practically plan the entire thing beforehand…”

“But I want to go. Want to be there for you guys”, moving your hand away from where it was resting on his shoulder, you reached to push his fringe out of his eyes. “Besides, I trust you guys. You know that”.

“Babe…” Chris sighed, taking a hold of your hand, moving it away from his face for his thumb to softly caress your knuckles. “I know you trust us, but… This is… We’re a bit different from our day to day selves”.

“At least think about it”, you squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him. “Besides, no offence, babe, but I’ve literally let you fuck me like an animal when you’re deep into your rut, how can it be any different?”

Chris laughed at that, a bit incredulous, and you couldn’t help but smile as you took in the sight of his dimples showing up. “Fair point, I guess”, leaning in, Chris pressed a soft kiss on your lips, pulling away after, just enough to look you in the eyes as he spoke, but keeping his chest pressed to yours. “Alright, pretty baby. Let me think about it, okay? Need to… Consider some logistics. Make sure it’s safe for you, yeah?”

You just gave him a smile in response before you leaned in to kiss him, mumbling a soft ‘okay’ against his lips.

“No”, Chris said firmly, leaning on the backrest of the dining chair as he crossed his arms and looked Minho dead in the eyes.

“Yes”, Minho replied simply, leaning back on his chair as well, matching Chris’ stance.

“Minho, no”, Chris repeated, slightly exasperated.

“Guys–” Changbin tried to speak, but Chris cut him off.

“Changbin, no”.

“Love, it’s only fair…” You couldn’t help but chime in, giving him an apologetic smile when he shot you a pained look.

Chris, Changbin, Minho, and you were sitting on your dining table, planning the upcoming trip to the woods, just like you did every month. Typically, you’d simply plan out the basics–fresh changes of clothes, clean bedsheets, whether they’d take groceries or fully prepared meals, anything and everything they might need… Today, part of the topic of discussion was your attendance to the trip.

“But it’s not the same”, Chris looked at the three of you with his brows furrowed in concern. “You going there is already enough human presence, adding another–”

“It’s only fair, she said it herself”, Minho interrupted, pointing at you. “I’ve asked a million times and you’ve never let me bring my friend because she’s human”, he turned to you then. “If we’re taking you, then we’re taking her, too. Both humans or none. No offence”.

Bringing your hands up, you simply added a, “none taken. I do think it’s only fair”.

Chris groaned, dragging his hands down his face. Crossing his arms again he looked at Changbin, almost pleading, to which Changbin just gave him an apologetic smile and a shrug.

It wasn’t like Chris needed you all to agree. In fact, if he put his foot down for real you’d probably have to comply, but that wasn’t how Chris led his pack. He liked to make things fair, to take his packmate’s opinions into consideration, even when they went against what he himself wanted to do, and that was especially true when it came to Changbin, Minho, and you.

Chris was quiet for a while, the rest of you as well, just waiting for the Pack Alpha to make his decision. Staring at the table, Chris drummed his fingers on the surface as he pondered, but ultimately, he heaved a sigh, looking straight at Minho. “If she comes, you do know she’s your full responsibility, right?”

“I do know. Never have I not thought that”.

“If anything happens to her–”

“Nothing’s gonna happen to her”, Minho was really confident in his statement, and you honestly didn’t doubt for one second that Minho would do his best to protect his friend. He always did, she’d been coming to the den since even before you moved in, and based on what you knew about their friendship, you were sure Minho would do his best to take care of her.

Chris looked at Minho for a few moments, until finally, he took a deep breath, sitting straighter on his chair only to exhale, leaning his elbows on the table. “Fine. She can come”.

Minho simply gave Chris a smile, a genuine one. Funnily enough, Chris didn’t sound particularly defeated or annoyed at all, he hardly ever did with these things, you knew he was probably just concerned for her safety, just like he was concerned for yours. Prior to your ‘meeting’ today, he’d finally told you you could come, and honestly you couldn’t have been more excited when the words came out of his mouth, but he did tell you of his ‘contingency plan’, as he called it.

‘Checked the blueprints of the house. Apparently my grandparents had added reinforced doors to the basement, so if anything doesn’t go as planned, that’s where you’ll go, okay?’ Chris had told you earlier, and he was now just telling the same thing to Changbin and Minho.

“We’ll get some wolfsbane, too. Just in case”, Chris finished, and your eyes almost bulged out of your skull.

“Christopher, we’re not getting wolfsbane!” 

“Just a bit! And as a last resource”, Chris laid his hand on top of yours, trying to soothe your worries–a low tactic, knowing that having his hands on you in one way or another could certainly help persuade you.

So you turned to Changbin and Minho. Minho just shrugged, “I’m not fond of the idea. I wouldn’t like to die from wolfsbane poisoning if I’m honest…”

Changbin looked at the three of you, and then sighed. “Honestly? Chris, I think you’re being a bit dramatic… But if it makes you feel better I’m not opposed to it. Trust you enough to not kill our entire pack with it”.

So Chris turned back to look at you, giving you his best puppy eyes, adding a pout for good measure, and you couldn’t help but scoff a chuckle, slightly incredulous. “Fine, if that makes you feel better, baby, bring the deadly plant…”

“It’d be just a bit, promise. Just enough to knock us out, but not kill us in the process”.

And the smile he gave you after that honestly made you trust him completely.

With Chris’, Changbin’s, and Minho’s cars filled to the brim with your supplies, and distributing the rest of the pack members between the three vehicles, you all made your way to the woods, to the property Chris’ grandparents left him in their will. When you found out about that house, and how big it was, you had asked Chris why they decided to move to their current den instead of going to live there, out of curiosity more than anything.

‘It’s too far away from the city. We’ve got our lives out here already, you know? Plus, back when we started the pack the place wasn’t even mine, and the rooms are too close together, we’d hardly get any privacy’, he’d told you back then, and it sounded fairly reasonable to you. Especially the privacy part… Even though they were all essentially family and they loved each other deeply, each member of the pack had distinct personalities of their own, each one with their own oddities that could clash with one another when having to share their space for long periods of time, and if it happened to Chris and you sometimes, you figured it would be the same between them as well.

Jeongin and Jisung had taken the back seat of Chris’ car, so they kept the conversation flowing with you as Chris kept his concentration on the road, since he didn’t like to talk much while he was driving. Occasionally, though, Chris would move his hand from the gear lever to your thigh, mindlessly caressing your skin or squeezing the flesh lightly, only removing it whenever he had to change gears. Eventually, Jisung noticed, and, in good Jisung fashion, he just couldn’t keep quiet about it.

“Damn it, Christopher. You never hold my thigh when I’m your co-pilot”, the pout was audible in his voice, and it made you laugh.

Chris just chuckled as he looked at Jisung through the rearview mirror, offering a “missed your chance, sweetcheeks. Got my baby here now just for that”, which had you chuckling.

“Want me to hold your thigh?” Jeongin had a devilish smile on his lips, reaching for Jisung only for him to swat his hand away.

“Don’t you dare touch me with your death grip, Yang Jeongin!”

“C’mon! Just a squeeze!” 

“Get off!”

Jeongin and Jisung kept jostling for what was left of the road trip, Jeongin would try to get his hands on Jisung, and Jisung would immediately push his hand away. ‘But I thought you wanted to be touched, Jisung!’ Jeongin would tease, and Jisung would swear loudly and allege ‘I don’t want to lose circulation on my thigh, Jeongin! You’ve gotten way too strong, you might kill me one of these days…’ just for Jeongin to reply ‘I’m not strong, babes, you’re just fucking weak’, all as you laughed at their antics and Chris smiled fondly any time he looked at them through the rearview mirror.

As soon as you all made it to the house in the woods, it all became a blur of unpacking and settling things in their place, making sure everything was ready for the evening when the moon would rise and the pack would go on their run. You knew the schedule better than you knew the back of your hand, considering you prepared the entire thing with Chris, Changbin, and Minho every month. 

So, with enough water and food for an army set in the kitchen for when they came back, and nine robes neatly stacked on a table in the back porch of the house, the pack finally made their way to the backyard–now with the addition of Minho’s best friend and you–and they started stretching and getting naked just as the sun finally set. 

“We’ll be gone for a few hours…” Chris cradled your face in his hands, softly running his thumbs on your cheeks as you rested your hands on his bare–and incredibly warm–chest. “Remember, if anything weird happens when we’re back–”

“I’ll take Minho’s friend and go to the basement. I know, baby”, you pressed a brief kiss on Chris’ lips. Earlier, he had shown you the way to the basement, and how to close the reinforced doors securely in place just in case, but you could still see the worry in his eyes as he looked at you right now. “It’ll be fine, babe. I’m sure”.

Taking in a deep breath, Chris just looked into your eyes, you were going to reassure him again, to tell him nothing would happen, but suddenly you saw how his eyes started to change colour, from that brown you knew so well to a bright golden. They were essentially glowing, and you blinked a few times, feeling all your attention pulled to them as he continued to look at you.

Chris noticed your reaction, and he simply gave you a small smile. “It’s time, pretty baby…” Letting go of your face, Chris took a few steps back away from you, putting enough distance between you two as he started to shift. You’d seen Chris shift a handful of times, but you didn’t think you’d ever get used to the unpleasant pops and cracks coming from his body as he did. In less than a minute, where your boyfriend used to be, there was the biggest wolf you’d ever seen, almost as big as you, and even though logically you should’ve felt intimidated by the sight, you couldn’t bring yourself to, not when you felt so safe with this beast in front of you just looking at you.

As soon as Chris had fully shifted, you walked closer, bringing your hand to his head so you could pet him, and Chris simply nuzzled your hand as you did. Leaning in, you pressed a kiss to his forehead, booping his nose immediately after–almost as if he wasn’t the biggest predator you’d ever encountered. “Be safe out there, my big bad wolf, hm?”

Chris just huffed in response, in what you assumed was his way to reassure you as well. After giving your wrist one final affectionate lick, he turned around, walking past Minho’s friend to make his way towards the edge of the woods, where the rest of his pack were already waiting for him.

You walked forward so you could stand next to Minho’s friend, just watching Chris pace a bit as he took in the sight of the other wolves. Once he seemed to be satisfied with their positions, he howled, and the sound had you shivering, even more so as the rest of the pack started to howl as well. It was imposing, really, hearing all of them in their most primal state. But even though you were just a human, it all sounded so familiar to you, not really that different from when they were talking extra loud to each other, which was honestly kind of weird–and amusing–considering they weren’t talking at all, at least not in human language.

Finally, Chris turned back towards the woods and took off, the other eight wolves following right after. As soon as they were gone, you turned to Minho’s friend, regarding her with a smile on your face. “Well, just you and me for a few hours, then. Wanna hang out here, or you prefer chilling on your own?”

She smiled back at you, offering a simple “let’s hang out”.

Minho’s friend was always really enjoyable to talk to, she was Minho’s closest friend, she’d seen the pack grow since Minho joined it years ago, and she seemed to care deeply for him. You could still remember how happy she was when she met you when you’d just moved in with Chris, offering a ‘it’s nice to finally have another woman around! And a human one at that’. She’d helped you feel welcomed–not like the kids didn’t, she was just the most vocal about it–so you always liked to sit down and talk with her about everything and nothing over some tea just as you did now while you waited for your friends to come back.

You sat there on the back porch for hours, until the rustle of leaves from the edge of the forest brought your attention to the area, just as the shapes of Changbin and his girlfriend came into view. You sprung into action as soon as you saw them, Minho’s friend following soon after, taking a couple of robes and handing them to Changbin as soon as he turned back to his human form.

He was panting slightly and a bit sweaty, but he gave you a big smile, murmuring a ‘thanks’ and easing himself into the robe, tying it securely around his waist just as his girlfriend wrapped her arms around him from behind and gave him a squeeze, resting her chin on his shoulder, also giving you a smile. “The rest will be here in a few minutes…”

You couldn’t help but notice that Changbin’s eyes, as well as his girlfriend’s, were also glowing, just like Chris’ were before, and you realised then that you hadn’t really paid attention to anyone else while you sent Chris off, but now that you saw them, you assumed their eyes had been glowing since then as well.

Soon enough, wolves started to filter from between the trees, starting with Felix, who joined you at the back porch a handful of minutes after. Between the five of you, you helped the rest also get themselves comfortable into their silky robes, the material helping them cool off a bit after their run for them to finally make their way into the house to start getting refreshed.

Minho was the last one to come back, meaning only your boyfriend was still left in the woods.

“Where’s Chris?” You couldn’t help but ask as soon as Minho was in front of you and had shifted back into his human form, handing him a robe.

“He’s checking the perimeter”, Minho’s eyes were glowing golden as well. Taking the robe from your hands he draped it over his frame. “He always does that after a run. Will probably be here in a few minutes”.

A low howl resonated in the distance, the sound had the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end and a shiver running down your spine, dragging warmth and heat to pool in the pit of your stomach. A smirk crept on Minho’s face at your reaction, clearly amused. “That’s him. It’s all fine”, he patted you on the back, offering a ‘let’s go, kitten’ to his friend as he slung his arm around her shoulders and pulled her along so they could make their way into the house, Changbin and his girlfriend following right after.

So you sat on the steps of the back porch, just waiting for your boyfriend to come back from his run. From his run as a wolf, a thought that you couldn’t help but chuckle about. 

Soon enough, there was a rustle among the trees far in front of you, and after a few moments, the dark shape of your boyfriend’s wolf form came into view, with his glowing golden eyes, somehow brighter than the rest of his packmates–a Pack Alpha thing, you supposed.

Taking down the few steps that were left, you leisurely walked towards Chris just as he trotted your way. When he was almost in front of you, he started to shift, the unpleasant cracks and pops giving way to human groans as he finally turned back to his human form. You had the full intent of handing him the robe in your hands as soon as he turned back, but, before you could even register it, he had already cupped your cheeks and pulled you to him, sealing your mouths in a heated kiss.

It took you by surprise, your breath hitching in your throat as Chris’ kiss stole the air right out of your lungs, but that didn’t stop you from kissing him back. With your arms around his shoulders and a hand in his curls, you tugged him even closer to you, pressing yourself flush to his body, the robe still in your free hand, now hanging over his back.

The way Chris was kissing you was almost as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you on his tongue, hungry, desperate. It felt similar to how he kissed you when he was on his rut. Maybe not with the same intensity as those times, but it was certainly close to it, and it almost made you feel dizzy in the best ways possible. 

Before you could even realise it, Chris had scooped you into his arms with ease–once again showing you that supernatural strength he possessed–and your legs wrapped around his torso for stability as he pushed you to the side of the house, the sudden contact of the concrete behind your back eliciting a small yelp from your lips.

“Chris?” You called for him the moment his mouth moved away from your lips to trail kisses all the way to your neck, licking and sucking your skin with such fervour you knew you were going to see marks later.

Chris hummed against your skin, further pressing you against the wall and his grip on your rear tightening every so slightly. It was then that you felt him, hard and warm against your heat, and the feeling had your head spinning. “Want you”, was all he mumbled between kisses, making your inner walls clench with need.

“Now?” You were already breathless with just a few minutes of kissing, and the hum of confirmation against your skin had goosebumps rising all over your arms. “Shouldn’t you… Eat something first?”

Chris shook his head. “Later. Just want you”.

“Let’s…” You couldn’t help but sigh at the feel of his tongue on your skin, taking a deep breath right after. “Let’s at least get to our room”.

Chris detached his mouth from your neck, only to bring it back to your lips so he could kiss you again. After a few moments, he gently placed you on your feet, taking the robe from your hand. “Okay”, he mumbled before he pressed a brief kiss on your lips, taking your hand and tugging you towards the back door and into the house, holding the robe over his crotch.

Everyone had seen each other naked more times than anyone could count. Hell, even you had seen more cock in your couple of years living with them than you had in your entire life–a mental image you admittedly always tried to suppress, the lack of shame and judgement around being naked something that you found to be quite endearing but also hard to get used to. Even then, you figured they all might get a bit more reserved when sporting a raging erection, your boyfriend included.

The rest of the pack was huddled in the kitchen, causing a ruckus in just the way they knew how to, so they didn’t even register Chris and you making your way upstairs towards the bedrooms, and if they did, they were clearly smart enough not to come close to you both. You could feel anticipation building within you all the way to your shared room, with your eyes focusing on the toned muscles of your boyfriend’s back as he tugged you along the corridor, admiring the way light caught on each dip and curve, highlighted by a thin sheen of sweat, admiring the flush spreading on his skin from all the blood that was encouraged to pump through his body with the run.

As soon as you were inside your room, as soon as the door closed behind you, Chris had already pinned you to it, pressing his body to yours as much as he could as he claimed your mouth while simultaneously turning the lock, the click barely even registering in your ears among the sounds of your wet kiss.

“Take this off, all of it”, he mumbled against your mouth, tugging on your oversized t-shirt–his t-shirt–and your shorts. “Wanna feel you”.

“Babe–” He just wouldn’t stop kissing you, and it had you giggling as his hands found their way under your tee to palm your breasts, kneading them gently. “Baby, I can’t–Can’t take it off if you’re this close to me”.

Chris chuckled softly, pressing one final, loud kiss on your lips before detaching himself from you a bit, enough for him to tug the garment over your head. As soon as that was gone, he dropped to his knees, tugging your shorts and your underwear down with him for you to finally step out of them.

Interesting thing, how even when he was the one on his knees for you, there was absolutely no doubt on who was taking the lead. It never mattered in what position you were, whenever the sparks of lust started to fly around you two, you were always at his mercy, and it always made you weak in the knees, made your head spin, made you want to let him enjoy you however he pleased, because you trusted Chris. You really did. You trusted him with your heart, with your body, because, in a way, you knew he’d be able to make you feel good in every possible way he could, you knew he’d always take good care of you. 

“Fuck, look at these… Look at you…” His hands greedily fondled your thighs, your hips, your rear, Chris tried his best to touch you anywhere and everywhere he could just as his lips pressed kisses all over your soft belly, occasionally nipping the flesh for good measure. “Have I ever told you how much I love your thighs?” Propping one of your legs over his shoulder, he settled to suck purple marks on your thigh, tracing a clear path towards your centre.

“Once or–or twice–Oh!” Chris’ mouth suddenly attached to your clit, your hand immediately moving to thread your fingers in his hair to try and steady yourself as he lapped you up.

Chris’ brows furrowed, and he groaned as soon as he got his tongue on your sensitive skin, tasting you, licking you, building your pleasure at an alarming pace. All you could do was hold onto him, trying to keep as quiet as you could and looking at his golden eyes as they stared back at you from between your legs.

Soon enough, Chris had two of his fingers stuffed into you, curling them against that sensitive spot within your walls that had you trembling under his touch, and when he added a third finger you couldn’t help but tighten your grip on his hair and lean your head back against the door, closing your eyes and biting your lower lip to try to maintain your volume to a minimum.

You felt as his mouth moved away from your clit, quickly replaced with his thumb as he attached his lips to your thigh again, sucking harshly on the skin. “Look at me”, Chris’ voice was so low, so level, as if he wasn’t fucking you open with his fingers, as if he wasn’t turning you into putty with just his fingers and his mouth.

You really wanted to comply, but it was hard for your brain to send signals to your body when you felt just so overcome with all the different sensations coursing through your body, and it was just as Chris was easing his fourth finger into you that he spoke again. “Look at me, love”.

Swallowing, you finally opened your eyes and turned your gaze down, finding Chris’ piercing golden eyes looking at you, holding your gaze as his fingers sped up, as his thumb kept rubbing your clit. It was no secret that Chris’ warm brown eyes were one of your biggest weaknesses, they were one of his physical features you loved most, but there was something about this look of his, about this supernatural glow of his eyes… It felt so raw, it made you feel exposed, almost as if he was stripping layers of your soul when he looked at you.

Two years ago, a look like this would’ve surely sent you into fight or flight, your brain would’ve urged you to turn around and run as far away from him as you could. Now, though, that look only fed the fire burning in the pit of your stomach, it made you crave him with such intensity you thought your heart would leap out of your chest as you held his gaze.

“You’re so fucking pretty”, you couldn’t help but whimper as the words left his mouth, as you felt his fingers moving harder within you, as you held that dangerous eye contact with your boyfriend, at the feel of his other hand tightly gripping your thigh. “So fucking pretty and sweet and perfect and mine, yeah? All mine?”

You nodded, biting your lip to dampen the sounds that desperately wanted to escape your mouth. “All–All yours, Chris… Baby, please… Wanna…”

Chris simply hummed, seemingly satisfied by your reassurance, immediately removing his thumb to return his mouth to your clit. He held your gaze, looking determined, almost greedy. You knew that look. How could you not know it when it was that look that always had you throbbing with need, it was the look he always gave you when he wanted to have you come undone for him. Usually, when he wasn’t driven by his rut-induced urges, Chris would take much longer than this to give you your release, but right now he clearly was just as needy to give it to you as you were to get it.

You could feel your lower belly tighten with each flick of his tongue, with each thrust of his fingers, and it wasn’t long until he finally sent you over the edge. Bringing a knuckle to your mouth, you took it between your lips to bite into it to help muffle the sounds that threatened to come out of your mouth louder than they should when you were staying in a house full of people with enhanced hearing, all as you kept your other hand in his hair, holding the strands between your fingers as if to not lose your sense of reality. It wasn’t until Chris was absolutely sure you had enjoyed every single wave of pleasure from your orgasm that he removed his fingers from you, pressing a couple more kisses on your clit only to finally bring his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with an appreciative hum.

Removing your leg from his shoulder, Chris carefully placed it back on the floor as he stood up. You were panting, breathless, and a little unsteady from the entire thing, but that didn’t stop you from kissing your boyfriend as soon as he was eye level with you again, holding onto his shoulders for dear life as he held your hips tightly in place.

When he removed his mouth from yours, Chris spat on his hand, wrapping it around his length after to generously coat himself in his saliva, and before you could even wonder what he was going to do next, he was already easing his cock between your thighs, right where they met with your core, brushing your sensitive folds with each thrust. Chris’ eyes rolled to the back of his head in bliss and he let out a sigh of relief, pleasuring himself with your thighs so shamelessly you couldn’t help but whimper at the sight, at the feel of his warm length on your skin, and the feel of his tight grip on your hips.

“So good…” Chris truly looked like he was starting to get lost in the feeling, and it had you dripping, had you feeling desired and wanted in that utterly primal way only Chris ever made you feel. “Always so soft and good for me, aren’t you?” When he opened his eyes again, his gaze found yours, almost stealing the air out of your lungs at the sheer intensity of his stare.

With a hand on his nape you pulled him to you, relishing the groan that escaped him only to get lost in your mouth as you kissed him, relishing the way his hold on your hips tightened and the way he thrusted harder, just as his hands moved you back and forth to have you meet his thrusts.

With one final grunt he brought your hips flush to his, stopping his movements. “Bed, love”, Chris mumbled against your lips, grabbing a handful of your bum. “Hands and knees”.

“Hands and knees?” Draping an arm over Chris’ shoulders and hiking one of your legs on his hip, you pulled him closer to you, kissing him briefly. “My alpha wants to mount me?”

Chris loved to mark you, to call you his, but he also loved when you called him yours, my baby, my dear, my boyfriend, my darling, my, my, my… It didn’t matter what term of endearment you used, whenever you added ‘my’ before it, you knew it would drive him up the wall, and when he was in this type of mood, in his more dominant, borderline animalistic mood, ‘my alpha’ would always get him incredibly worked up, and you loved how it simply worked every single time.

“Fuck!” Chris kissed you eagerly, grunting against your mouth, and his hand flew to your thigh, gripping it tightly to keep your leg around his torso. “So, so much. You’ve got no idea. Come here”, with his arm securely wrapped around your waist he moved, letting your leg drop to the floor to walk you backwards towards the bed.

Removing yourself from his arms after one final kiss, you moved, climbing onto the bed, and setting yourself as requested. Chris simply looked at you, with that look in his eyes that made you feel like you were the first meal he’d had in a long time, almost as if he was deciding which part of the plate to devour first, that look now heightened tenfold by his glowing eyes.

He brought a hand to his length, stroking himself leisurely, licking his lips absentmindedly and slightly tipping his head to the side as his eyes raked your form. You had to bring him back to you, you felt yourself aching for his touch, so you called for him, lacing his name with that breathy tone you knew would snap him out of his trance. “Chris…”

“Shit, baby, can’t help it”, climbing behind you, Chris placed a hand on your lower back, his thumb caressing the skin softly as he dragged the tip of his length up and down your folds, coating himself in your juices, making you shudder with the contact. “You’re so fucking beautiful, can’t help but get distracted”, you felt yourself flush, not only because of the things he was saying, but also because he stuffed you full of his cock as he did, eliciting a shared groan of relief once he was buried snugly within your walls. 

“Fuck… How did I get so lucky, huh?” You could feel Chris’ hands on your back, on your hips, your belly, your breasts, caressing you softly, tenderly, as if he hadn’t pumped his cock between your thighs a handful of minutes ago, and you could also feel his lips, pressing soft kisses on your shoulder, all as he let you adjust to him. “Mmm… Lucky… My pretty baby, all mine…”

When you felt comfortable enough you pushed back against him. You barely moved, only a tiny push, but it was enough to make Chris grunt, to make him bring his hands to your waist and start ramming into you immediately, with absolutely no build up. The movement was so sudden you couldn’t help the moan that left your mouth, completely forgetting your setting for a second.

“Want the whole house to hear you, pretty?” The sheer force of his thrusts had you feeling dizzy, had your mind hazy with nothing but Chris and his motions, had you gripping the bed sheets tightly. “It’s okay, babe. Not like they don’t know exactly what I’m doing to you up here, huh?”

Lowering yourself on your elbows you arched your back, letting Chris fuck you deeper as a shared groan left your lips. In an instant, Chris’ hand was on your clit, rubbing tight circles on your sensitive nub, making your legs twitch and your teeth sink on your bottom lip to try and muffle all your moans and whines and whimpers. It was so much and so, so good, and very quickly you realised how desperate you were for your release again. 

“Chris…” With the feel of his cock reaching so deep within your walls you could hardly speak, but you also knew you didn’t need to say anything, as soon as his name left your lips you knew he’d know exactly what you needed. 

“Fuck, I know, baby. I know, don’t worry. I’ll give you what you want”, his fingers on your clit sped up, you could feel your rear bounce with every single one of his merciless thrusts, and even if you didn’t look at him, you knew he was looking, so you made it a point to push back just as he pushed forward to enhance that movement, immensely enjoying the groan that left his lips as soon as you started doing just that. “What a fucking sight, shit… Lucky… Mine…”

Moving his hand from your waist to your neck, Chris pressed down, effectively pushing your upper body flush to the bed as he kept thrusting in and out of you, as he kept rubbing circles on your clit, the motions turning you into a whiny, whimpering mess. The weight of his hand on the base of your neck, the feel of his cock deliciously stretching you open, and his fingers working you up were the only things you could register, and you could feel your release building and building the more Chris moved, the more Chris touched you.

“You’re doing so good for me, love. You always do, fuck… Are you enjoying yourself? Enjoying your alpha’s cock, huh pretty?”

You weakly nodded in response, mostly because you didn’t trust yourself to open your mouth and speak, fearing all that would come out would be a cacophony of desperate sounds and cries under Chris’ quickening movements. There was a low growl, almost inaudible, but Chris was so close to you there was no way you could’ve missed it, and your body reacted immediately, a shiver running down your spine and your walls clenching tightly around his length. “Tell me, love. Say it”.

“I–” Your lower belly was tightening harshly, and you felt warmth rushing through you every second Chris kept rubbing your clit, the motions had you almost speechless, but you tried, gripping the bed sheets tightly in your fists to ground yourself. “I am–”

Thrusting harder, Chris’ hold on the base of your neck tightened. “You’re what?”

Swallowing thickly, you felt your mind clouding, now filled with nothing but pure need and desperation, with nothing but your boyfriend and his ruthless thrusts. “Enjoying your cock, Chris–Fuck!” As soon as the words left your mouth you felt heat spreading everywhere within you, your release dragging pleasuring warmth from your core to every single one of your limbs, weakening your grip on the sheets, weakening your legs, and your knees would’ve given out had Chris not moved his hand away from your clit to instead wrap his arm around your waist to keep you steady in place, further leaning into you, almost pressing his chest to your back as his other hand found its way to hold one of yours, pressing it to the mattress.

“Mmm, good girl”, Chris’ breath fanned your neck, raising goosebumps on your flesh, that, coupled with his unfaltering pace had you whimpering softly, leaving you on the brink of oversensitivity. “Good, good girl. My girl. Perfect, yeah? Perfect when you come for me…”

Chris was running his mouth a bit, just like he often did when he was close to his peak, mumbling mindless words of praise as he kept working himself up. And finally, with a few more thrusts, he came, groaning lowly in your ear and pressing his hips flush to your rear to pump you full of his seed, just how he loved to do. He pressed kisses on your shoulder, mumbling softly, ‘so, so perfect for me. My perfect girl’. You just hummed, still panting a bit, but undoubtedly satisfied, enjoying the feel of him all over you, enjoying the gratifying tiredness only a good fuck with your boyfriend could leave on your body.

You didn’t move for a while, you hadn’t changed positions at all since Chris came, and you couldn’t help but notice he was still rock hard within your walls. “Chris, baby?” Before you could comment on it, he started to move again, slowly, in and out of your cunt as he continued to press kisses on your nape, eventually settling on the junction of your neck and your shoulder, mindlessly kissing and licking your skin.

While Chris kissed and licked the area, a low rumble resonated in his chest as he kept moving within your walls. You obviously didn’t mind, you loved to feel him in you, fucking you, the feel of his rumble on your back, but Chris didn’t rumble often…

‘Alphas don’t rumble frequently. It mostly happens when we’re really, really, reeeeaaaally lost in a state of bliss, which is typically when we’re on our rut. Rumbling out of happiness is more an omega thing, I’d say’, he’d explained to you once, and you truly had only ever heard–and felt–him rumble during his rut or when he came home really tired and got to hug you close when he finally tucked himself to bed, just right before he fell asleep. This behaviour of his was odd, you knew he wasn’t on his rut, he was being too coherent for that, but by now he would’ve pulled out and tugged you into his arms to relax for a bit.

The moment he grazed his teeth against your skin, you gasped softly, both from the feeling of his mouth on you and the angle in which he was fucking you, but suddenly, his warmth was gone. The sudden change in temperature around you and the sudden feeling of emptiness in your core almost gave you whiplash. You just caught sight of him stumbling back from the bed, pressing his back to the wall as he took in deep breaths.

“Are you okay?” Chris asked you, panting.

You just turned fully, sitting on the bed with your legs folded under you, blinking slightly. “‘Course I am. Are you okay?”

Chris simply nodded in response, and now you were starting to get worried. “Chris…”

“I am! Just… Just need a moment, yeah?” He further slouched against the wall, closing his eyes as he kept taking deep breaths.

You just looked at him, with your brows furrowed in concern, completely uncaring of his cum trickling down your legs. It went on like this for a few minutes, until Chris finally heaved a sigh, opening his eyes again, which were now back to their usual warm brown.

“I’m sorry, pretty. The full moon and the adrenaline from the run have me a bit… A bit feral”, Chris chuckled softly, but he didn’t move away from the wall.

Moving to sit on the edge of the bed, you looked at him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. Just… Need to control myself a bit”.

“Is that why your eyes were glowing so bright? Because of you ‘being feral’?” You emphasised the two words with air quotes, genuinely curious about it.

“I mean, it’s just the… The entire thing. The full moon, the run, you… There’s a lot going on inside of me right now with all those things combined”.

“Me?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “What do I have to do with anything?”

Chris simply smiled at you, walking over to sit next to you on the bed. “A lot of things! When… When the full moon hits and we go on our runs we don’t… Think much. We act. At the end of the day, I’m an animal, too. You know that, right?”

You just nodded, because of course you knew. There was no way you weren’t aware of the fact that your boyfriend wasn’t exactly like you, he was very close, but not the same. Chris reached for your hand, turning it so he could place a soft kiss on your palm. You could almost see the cogs turning in his head, the way he was trying to make sense of his thoughts, or at least, of what he was going to tell you about them. So you decided to ask directly. “Chris, baby… What’s bothering you?”

Chris looked at you for a moment, taking in the features of your face until he finally heaved a sigh. “Just realised that I always… Always get these urges during the full moon, just that, since you’ve never been here, it’s never progressed further than… Just urges. Now you are here, though, and it’s throwing my hormones more out of whack than usual”, you were slightly taken aback by the comment, and it must’ve shown on your face, because he quickly added. “Not in a bad way! It’s just… Primal instincts and shit”.

“Wanna… Tell me more about it or…?” You took his hand between yours, squeezing gently.

Chris looked at you for a few moments, only to drop his gaze to your joined hands right after. “I’m… Uh… A bit embarrassed, I guess. It’s not something… I mean…”

He was rambling a bit, just as he often did when he was trying to make sense of his thoughts, so you gave his hand another squeeze, the motion bringing his attention back to you. “Babe, you know I won’t judge you”.

He looked back at your face, his gaze jumping from one of your eyes to the other, until his eyes moved lower, settling on your neck, and his free hand, the one that wasn’t holding yours, came to softly caress the skin of your neck, just as a soft blush settled on his cheeks. “I feel like… Like claiming you, biting you…”

Ah, claiming. Essentially the act of mating. Something you’ve read about, but that Chris had never brought up, so you hadn’t either. It was common practice for werewolves, especially alphas, to mark their partners by biting them in a very specific way, in a very specific place. Suddenly, where he was kissing and licking you before he jumped away from you made sense. “Don’t you… Want to do it?”

Chris chuckled softly, almost incredulous. “Babe, if I do that I might as well get down on one knee and ask you to marry me, while simultaneously getting married”.

You blinked slightly, looking him in the eyes just as you felt the tiniest twinge in your heart. You and Chris had been together for more than a year now, and although there had been no talks of the future of your relationship, now that the talk was happening, his hesitancy made you feel… Uneasy. “So you wouldn’t like to…”

Again, it must’ve shown on your face, because Chris’ expression shifted, slightly alarmed. “Wait, no, no. I’m not saying I wouldn’t like that. Love, listen, come here”, Chris motioned for you to sit on his lap, and you did, sitting sideways so you could drape an arm over his shoulder, relishing the way his arms wrapped around your hips and the way his eyes were almost sparkling when he looked at you.

“I love you”.

Chris said it so confidently, so sure of it there was no doubt in your mind that he meant it, but it still took you by surprise. He’d never said it before, he really didn’t need to, you knew it already, because he had shown that to you in many different ways. But you still felt your face flush and your heart stammering in your chest. “I love you so much. I want it all, and when I say all I mean all all, but I’m… I’m wired differently. Claiming you, mating… For us… For me, it’s pretty much a lifelong commitment, and you’ve already given so much of yourself to keep up with the dynamic of my family, to keep up with me, I don’t want to take this away from you, too. Not because of… My stupid horny alpha urges, not like this”.

“Chris”, cupping his cheeks, you softly caressed his skin with your thumbs. “You’ve not taken anything away from me. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done because I wanted to. I don’t think I’ve ever felt happier than I do right now with you, with the kids, too”.

Chris looked at you for a few moments, completely silent, just scanning your face, until he finally spoke again, his tone a bit quieter than usual. “How do you know it’s not just… You know, my alpha pheromones and shit…” He sounded genuinely distressed about it, and it pulled at your heartstrings unpleasantly.

“Christopher, have you been worried about this the entire time?” You couldn’t help the combination of concern and incredulousness that clung to your voice at his question. “That you’ve somehow coaxed me into all of this?” 

Chris averted his gaze, looking anywhere but your face. “I… I do worry about it sometimes. Wouldn’t want for you to–”

“Baby, listen. Look at me”, you put some pressure on his cheeks, making him pout a bit with the motion, bringing his eyes back to yours. “Remember a couple of months ago when I went abroad with my mum for like, three weeks?” Chris nodded, so you continued. “I was kilometres away from you, and I still wanted you, still loved you. Because I do, I love you, and I love your family, too. You guys took me in, made me feel at home, and I feel like… Like they’re my family, too. And every day I hope they all feel the same way about me… I hope you feel the same way”.

Chris looked at you for a bit, digesting your words, until finally, with a hand on the back of your head and the other caressing your thigh, he pulled you in for a brief kiss. “I do feel that way. Every day. I’m so grateful you came into our lives, into my life. Since I met you, since I got to know you, it’s like… Like I can finally breathe, I’ve never… Honestly, I don’t think there are words to express how I feel, but I seriously can’t imagine anyone else by my side”.

You could feel warmth spread in your chest, your heart threatening to burst with all the love it harboured for this man in front of you, and you couldn’t help the blush that came to your cheeks along with the splitting smile that made its way onto your face. Leaning in, you pressed a kiss on Chris’ lips, enjoying the way his arms pulled you tighter against him with the action.

“I know it’s not… Not ideal”, you shuffled a bit within Chris’ arms, moving instead to straddle him, resting your weight on his thighs and your arms around his shoulders as he traced patterns on your back. “You are what you are and I am what I am, we can’t change that. But I do love you. Every part of you. Lycanthropy and all. Truly”.

“Truly?” Chris’ arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you tighter against him.

You hummed, nodding. “Truly. As for you claiming me… If that’s what you want, we can… We can wait. Let’s… Have this conversation again a couple of years down the road. There’s no hurry, is there?”

Chris shook his head, and you continued. “Just, please don’t… Don’t keep these worries to yourself, yeah? Just because you’re Mr Alpha of the Pack doesn’t mean you have to deal with everything on your own, that’s what I’m here for, to help ease that burden. I love being a part of your pack, babe, I really do, don’t ever doubt it, or worry that you have somehow supernaturally influenced me to do these things. There’s a reason for me to have fallen into the position I did when I moved in with you… Because I like it. Makes me feel… Just so full. To be there for the kids, for you, to help out… It kinda feels like I was meant to do it”.

“You do it so well, too”, Chris tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, looking at you as if you held his world in your hands. “Much better than me sometimes”.

“Hey, don’t be like that. We’re a team here, huh? No bringing yourself down nonsense”, you swatted his arm playfully, making him laugh, but you still gave him a smile, blushing a bit. “As for our relationship… We can always just… Talk, hm?”

Chris simply regarded you with a smile, one of those genuine smiles of his that had your heart doing somersaults in your chest, until finally, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the apple of your cheek, mumbling an ‘okay’ against your skin.

“Okay”, you repeated, sealing your statement with a kiss.

You stayed like that for a bit, just kissing, hugging each other tightly, enjoying each other’s warmth. Until you just couldn’t ignore the obvious anymore, so you reached for Chris’ length between your bodies, stroking him leisurely, eliciting a soft hum from him. “Can’t believe you’re still hard”, you mumbled against his lips, pecking him softly.

Chris chuckled, moving away from your lips to look you in the eyes. “Told you, pretty baby. My hormones are a bit out of whack because of the moon. Besides, you just told me you love me, I don’t think it’s going down any time soon”.

You regarded him with a smile, shuffling a bit to prop yourself on your knees and line him with your entrance. “Let’s make the most of it, then”.

Chris brought his hands to your hips, pushing you down his length as you cupped his cheeks and kissed him, moaning at the sudden feeling of fullness that only Chris could bring you–both physically and emotionally. “Mm, shouldn’t we eat first?” Chris’ teasing tone was hard to miss, and it had you chuckling.

“Later. Want you now”, you mimicked his words from earlier, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“Later, then”, sneaking his hands to your bum, he gripped your rear tightly, starting to slowly move you up and down his cock with ease. “Mmm… Love you, pretty…”

“Love you more, baby”, you couldn’t help but smile as you said it, as you saw the way he took your challenge, and you knew Chris was just going to try and spend the rest of the night trying to convince you he loved you more, just like you were going to do the same.

Author’s Notex2: i didn’t proof read this as many times as i usually do, so sorry if there are any weirdly constructed sentences, might go back and tweak things later. also, if you’re reading this, do you think these are getting too long? 👉👈 i fear they might be, i just have a lot to say i guess hahah. anyway, hope you enjoyed !

Tagging: @raspbinniecreme @staaa96 @oiminho @dundullresident @honey-lemon-goose @straylightdream @carefully325 If you want to be removed from the list just PM me. If you want to be added fill in this form~

© therhythmafterthesummer 2022-2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :)

Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments:  It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.

[buttercupjosh]

Nothing to Be Scared Of

(Gif credit to @corbincarroll)

Word count: 2,594

Genres: strangers to friends to lovers, fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: This story is based off of the songs “Nothing To Be Scared Of" by Kacey Musgraves (which is where the title came from) and I make references to "Dinner With Friends" by Kacey Musgraves, and "Anime Eyes" by Kacey Musgraves. I highly recommend listening to these songs before reading my story. It’s not set at a specific moment in time (It’s taking place in a fictional future but you could also say that it’s set this upcoming season. However, the 2024-25 season hasn't happened yet and anything can happen or change so don’t hold me to what occurs in the fic and if things do change in real life, I’m not going to update this fic to reflect that). It’s written with a female reader in mind because I’m a female of color but the reader doesn’t specifically have to be a POC or a woman and there’s little dialogue. As always, I’m open to any and all feedback, comments or questions; just put them in my inbox or dm me. Thank you so much in advance for reading, I appreciate it😌

(P.S. I have other stories (linked here) that I have written for other players as well if you want to check it out)

“Please don’t let me regret opening up that part of myself that I’ve been scared to give again. Be good to me and I’ll be good to you but please don’t be too good to be true.” -Too Good To Be True by Kacey Musgraves

Romantic love was one of those things that had never been on your side. Throughout life, you always had unrequited crushes that never worked out and it was very rare that someone else had a crush on you. The one time you actually dated someone and opened up your heart to them romantically, it ended up failing. On the outside, your ex was a decent guy on paper but behind the scenes, he was someone who shifted into a very toxic person. The final straw came when he got a job offer that moved him away and he broke up with you because he didn’t want to be with you anymore. Since that experience, your heart had been wrapped in bubble wrap, filled with the fear that someone was going to break it again.

As expected, you had your walls up about falling in love with someone new but that started to change when you met Jamie. Your job as a realtor is what connected you to him; you were unofficially known as the team realtor for the Phillies, Flyers, and Eagles since most of your client base consisted of players and their families from those teams and you were one of the few realtors who was licensed in both Pennsylvania and New Jersey. After his first partial season in Philadelphia, Jamie was looking for a new place to live so you helped him find his new home. The reason why Jamie was moving was because Cam wanted his long-term girlfriend to move in with him and Jamie wasn’t interested in living with Joel and Morgan at their place either. Due to his age, he didn’t want to live with an older veteran on the team and their family or to reside in the suburbs. Jamie also felt like he needed a change during this new chapter of his life so he decided to live alone for the first time in his entire life. 

On a Saturday afternoon before the season started, you met up with Jamie to show him one of the places you found. The penthouse was very nice and in a neighborhood he liked but Jamie didn’t like the kitchen layout so your quest to find him the best place to live continued. You kept in a lot of contact with Jamie, trying to match his preferences the best you could and also show him places where he could compromise on certain things. After lots of meetings and searching, you found the perfect place for him in the Rittenhouse Square area. Jamie was very thankful for your services and with the time you spent together, he became very appreciative of who you are as a person. You rarely saw your clients again after helping them out but you would see Jamie again sooner than expected.

————————————————————

One evening, your phone rang in the middle of the night and surprisingly, it was Jamie calling. You picked up and his voice sounded different. Of course, Jamie knew what he was getting into when choosing to live alone but it still didn’t make the feeling of loneliness on his first night by himself at his new place go away. He couldn’t sleep at all because his mind was racing and he just needed someone to talk to; Jamie could have called his parents or his brother, Charlie, or one of his teammates or old friends back home but instead, he chose you. Listening to Jamie on the phone made your heart ache a little and you just wanted to hug him to calm him down so you took the last SEPTA train to go comfort him at his apartment. He didn’t ask you to come over but you went over there out of the kindness of your heart. Once you arrived, you engulfed Jamie in that much-needed hug and all of that anxiety that was plaguing him at the moment began to slowly wash away. Neither of you could sleep so you talked to each other for hours about different things, learning more and more about each other, until you fell asleep on his couch. Instead of leaving you sleeping on his couch, Jamie tenderly picked you up and placed you into his bed. You woke up the following morning in a bed that wasn’t yours and found Jamie sleeping on the couch.

As time went on, you developed a friendship together and your hearts were quietly growing fond of each other. You spent a lot of time together, going back and forth from each other’s places and hanging out in public. On nights that he couldn’t sleep, Jamie would sometimes call you and you would have deep conversations that would go on way into the night, most of the time falling asleep on the phone together. Sure, those calls would leave you both exhausted the following day but that was your special thing and you would always pick up whenever he called. You trusted each other; Jamie told you about his past relationships in California and back in Canada and you opened up about your previous relationship but your past hurt made you very guarded with Jamie. It was almost like you were always waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under you about him or waiting for Jamie to switch up the good guy act on you like how your ex did but that never happened.

————————————————————

Your birthday happened to land on a Flyers game day and thankfully, that game was a matinee game so you had plenty of time to enjoy the rest of your special day. As a gift, Jamie got you and a friend glass tickets to watch the game. During one of the media timeouts, you noticed that your name was on the scoreboard, wishing you a happy birthday; it was a nice birthday surprise. The rest of the game went nicely and the Flyers won.

To celebrate your birthday, you had an amazing dinner with some of your friends at Fiorella and Jamie offered to bring the cake. All Jamie told you was that you had to trust him and he showed up at the restaurant with a large pink cake that was covered in layers and ruffles of your favorite color. He also revealed to you that he was behind the scoreboard message. You knew that Jamie was a kind guy but the kindness he showed to you definitely took the cake.

After your birthday, Jamie’s 200th career game was approaching and you pulled out all of the stops to celebrate this milestone for him. It wasn’t a huge moment to some but it had taken a lot to get to that point. You snuck into Jamie’s apartment and decorated the place with balloons and streamers while he was away at morning skate. When Jamie returned to his apartment, you were gone but he knew in his heart that you were the only one who could have done this for him. To add to the surprises, you showed up at the game with a handmade sign, acknowledging his accomplishment. Jamie’s heart warmed when he saw you, banging on the glass to get his attention to look at what you made and he tossed you a puck. Jamie texted you to not throw away the sign because it was special to him and he wanted to keep it. After the game, you went back to Jamie’s apartment and shared a small cake with him; it didn’t matter that Torts would bag skate him if he found out that Jamie was eating sweets during the season but all that mattered was that he was sharing it with you.

————————————————————

Not long after his 200th game, it was that time of the year for the building where Jamie lived to do their seasonal pest control. He needed to be out of his apartment for a few hours for the work to be done and for the smell to dissipate so you suggested going out mini golfing at Puttshack. The game combined mini golf and trivia; Jamie was good at the golfing part and you were good at the trivia part. The game itself was way more fun because Jamie would get certain trivia questions wrong but you weren’t the best at putting the golf ball and you both jokingly teased each other about your skill sets during the game.

After Puttshack, you both wanted your time together to continue so you invited Jamie over to your place to continue hanging out. As usual, you ordered food and talked. The conversation somehow shifted to movies and you found out that Jamie had never seen a Studio Ghibli movie before so you ended up showing him some of your favorite films. While observing Howl and Sophie’s relationship dynamic, Jamie realized something very important. On one end of the sofa, you were captivated watching the movie but on the other side, Jamie wasn’t focused on what was going on, on the screen. He was too busy looking over at you through his anime eyes and a million little stars started to burst in his heart. You didn’t know it then but you would learn that he had always looked at you that way. He couldn’t say it out loud yet but Jamie was in love.

————————————————————

In a series of extremely convenient events, your mom came to Philly for a week-long work conference and Jamie’s mother, Tina, was also in town for the Flyers’ annual Mom’s Trip. Both of your moms got to observe your friendship firsthand. You liked Tina and Jamie liked your mom and both of your moms liked each other. While they were away, Tina and Jamie talked about you and she encouraged her son to pursue you. Jamie knew about your past relationship pain and it made him uncertain about whether or not to tell you his true feelings. Meanwhile, you took your mom to the airport after her conference concluded and before leaving, she imparted some motherly wisdom onto you.

“Honey, Jamie is a really nice guy and I like him for you. I know you were scarred by He Who Shall Not Be Named but you should think about opening your heart again to love”, your mother said to you.

You respectfully brushed aside her words. Jamie was a really good friend and person that anyone else would be grateful to have in their lives and you were happy that he was a part of yours. Over time, people speculated that you and Jamie were dating because of how you treated each other and the amount of time you spent together but he never formally asked you out and you weren’t sure if he had liked you romantically or just as a friend. Despite how things appeared, you remained cautious about being in love again so you strictly kept your boundaries with Jamie as friends. However, that was all going to change.

————————————————————

One early morning after spending the night on the air mattress that Jamie bought for you to sleep on whenever you slept over, you woke up early without trying and couldn’t fall back asleep so you decided to watch the sunrise. As you gazed at the Philadelphia skyline from the rooftop, it hit you; you were in love with Jamie.

It was the shape of Jamie’s blue eyes and the shape of his nose. It was the cute way he mispronounced certain words the Canadian way and also the smell of his clothes that filled your nose whenever you hugged him. It was the shape of Jamie’s heart and his kindness. It was the familiarity of taking your shoes off and leaving them by the door every time you went to his apartment. Jamie loved you in all of the ways that you never felt love before.

You were so uneasy about falling in love again because you didn’t want to get hurt again but with Jamie, something just felt so different. He was the only one you wanted to give your love to and Jamie taught you there was nothing to be scared of about being in love. You could drop your baggage of hurt and he would help you unpack them and you would do the same for him. You were so consumed by emotion and a familiar voice startled you to ask if you were okay.

“Yeah, I’m fine but how did you know that I was up here? I thought you were asleep”, you replied.

“I got up to use the bathroom and every time I do whenever you sleep over, I always check on you. I knew you were here because I come up here sometimes to watch the sunrise or the sunset and I know that you love those colors”, Jamie said as he poked your side.

Hearing Jamie say the word love made your heart beat faster and faster. He looked over at you and could sense a shift in you.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want to go back inside?” Jamie concernedly asked. 

“Jamie, I have something to tell you and promise me that you won’t freak out”, you told him.

“What are you going to say that you’re in love with me? If so, I’m in love too with the beautiful person right in front of me”, Jamie confessed with a cheesy smile and the biggest blush on his face.

He took the words right out of your mouth but that didn’t make the anxiety you felt go away.

“Jamie, I love you too but I’m scared. What if we don’t work out? What if you fall out of love with me? What if this is all too good to be true? What if -?” you rambled.

“Y/n, honestly, I’ve been scared this whole time too. When I got traded from Anaheim to here, I was super terrified of this massive change. I didn’t plan on falling in love when I moved here because my future’s so uncertain at the moment and I swore I was going to be single until my next contract but then I met you. You’ve added so much to my life and I’m thankful to have you as a part of it. I know you’re afraid but Y/n, if it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out. All that matters is that I love you right now and I’ll love you for as long as I can. Would you be willing to take that risk with me?”, Jamie asked.

Before meeting Jamie, you almost gave up on romantic love for good but he showed you how to love without having to try so hard because he loved you for being yourself. Jamie was like a train that was only meant for you and he wouldn’t leave the station without you. That bubble wrap that was wrapped around your heart was peeling off and you just had to continue to trust that it was all going to be okay. Even if things were to change, like all things in life, you would learn from it. You had both believed that you were placed into each other’s lives for a reason. If being in love with each other was what dreams were made of, neither of you wanted to wake up. Wrapped in a tender embrace with his arms around you and sharing a sweet kiss, the two of you watched the sun fully rise together. It was officially the start of a brand new sunny day and also the start of a new romantic relationship between you and Jamie.

[andromeda-nova-writing]

Impressions

Wriothesley x Fem! Reader

Summary: With Wriothesley not wanting his photo one may wonder about the kind of Impression that he wants to leave upon people. Or maybe just question if he may be a bit Kamera shy and finding any valid excuse to avoid his photo being taken. What’s seen in a photo can lead to many thoughts about the person within. Why not try to make it something good?

Words: 2,404

AN: A kind of sequel to the sticker fic. It stands on its own pretty well though. It's a miracle I had so much of the fic done in time for his birthday.

Y/N made her way towards Wriothesley and Sigewinne after watching Charlotte, Lumine, and Paimon leaving Fortress of Meropide. “Sigewinne, the rest of the medications you asked for have been finished up.” She reported. Even though the flood didn’t destroy Fontaine, some things had gotten lost in the waters and there were people in the Fortress who did require certain medications daily. It was best to get things back to normal as soon as possible after the disaster had been mostly averted.

Wriothesley looked over to her with a sense of relief washing over him. “See there’s work to be done, no need to continue this conversation.”

Y/N looked down at Sigewinne. “Do tell what I’ve interrupted.”

“His Grace still refuses an interview with Charlotte. Specifically having his photo taken.” She explained.

“There’s no need for attention to be placed upon me. I just want credit to be given to those who deserve it more than me.” He continued the same argument and reason he gave to everyone.

She rolled her eyes. “Sigewinne, I think I’m beginning to agree with my mother that our dear Duke, His Grace, Warden of the Fortress of Meropide, Wriothesley is afraid of the kamera.”

The two girls laughed over her teasing. Wriothesley had rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over her joke. He considered walking away to just end it before any more teasing could go forward. But then again her words were actually quite telling.

“You talk about me to your mother? Didn’t think I made such a big impression on you that warranted that.”

“It is precisely because there are no photos of you that she asks questions. And don’t be so full of yourself Ri. I talk about everyone in my life to my mother. You can feel important if you ever meet her.”

“Y/N’s mother is quite lovely. She’s always so curious about everyone and everything.” Sigewinne explained the lunch the three of them had a few weeks ago. “She creates the most adorable stickers. I still have to frame the portrait she drew of me.”

“It’s just a napkin drawing. Don’t think too much of it. She just can’t keep her hands still and you happened to capture her eye.”

Wriothesley could not believe what he was hearing as the two kept their conversation going without him. Was her mother in on the great stickering week he had gone through? How many of the stickers had he peeled off were created by that lady?

“I’ll see what I can do about you seeing her again then for a proper portrait. And if no times line up, maybe I can borrow her kamera to get a good reference photo for her.” Y/N leaned down just a bit and covered the side of her mouth with her hand. She did even not attempt to lower her voice. “Then we can try and sneak a photo of our kamera shy Duke.”

The two of them were laughing once again. Why were the only times Y/N used any of his titles it was a sorry attempt at professionalism or just to tease him? He grabbed Y/N’s arm pulling her up so she was no longer leaning down. 

“See Sigewinne, he continues to manhandle me. You’ve known him the longest. Tell him how to treat a lady.” Y/N complained. 

Sigewinne continued her laughter. Wriothesley was way too in love to do anything that would hurt Y/N. The two of them made a very cute couple, well if they ever got together.

“If you have time to tease me and joke around, then you can come help organize some files in my office since Sigewinne has no work for you.”

“I have plenty of work to do for her.” She argued attempting to pull her arm away. He didn’t budge. His grip was firm yet gentle enough to not cause her any pain.

“Actually that’s all I needed for you at the moment. Ottnit and I can cover the rest.” With how busy it had been there had been no way Wriothesley had been taking enough time to rest. And Sigewinne trusted that he wouldn’t actually put Y/N to work inside his office or work himself.

“Oh, the betrayal. Ottnit is officially my favorite between the three of you down here.” That was a lie. She’d never pick a favorite.

“Just don’t forget to take a break you two. I don’t want to interrupt your time to remind either of you.” Sigewinne began her walk back to the infirmary before Y/N had a chance to comment on what she had said.

“Wriothesley.” She whined as she was gently being pulled away towards his office. “People will talk. I thought you didn’t care for that.”

“You must be people then if you are already discussing about me with your mother.” He laughed as they made their way into his office.

“Only because of your actions. I don’t know how it got to her but she thinks you can’t keep your hands off of me.” She only spoke the next part once the door was closed behind them. “She thinks you’re courting me. And since you rarely make appearances outside the Fortress of Meropide, my mother wants a photo of you before she truly believes that rumor or listens to me.” It didn’t help that part of Y/N wanted that rumor to be true as well. Even then it wasn’t like she could find the time to admit it aloud just what she wanted.

They made their way up the stairs. “I don’t know why you need a photo of me if we aren’t actually a couple.” He let go of her arm once they reached the top.

Y/N frowned, looking around and seeing his office was spotless. Liar. Not a single thing was out of place. There wasn’t even a stack of papers on his desk. “Is it wrong of me to still want to show her a photo of my friend? The only photos I’ve managed to find of you are mid-fight in the Pankration Ring. I can’t show those to her.”

Wriothesley walked over to a bookshelf with his tea collection looking through it to find what suited Y/N’s tastes the most. “It’s a photo that has my face in it. Sounds like it counts.” 

"I am not showing my mom a photo of you shirtless, sweaty, and punching someone during a boxing match. She may be quite the easygoing person but I think she'd have my head on a platter if that was her first impression of you." 

"Vanilla Chai or Orange Cinnamon?" They were her favorites but he wasn’t sure which one she'd be more in the mood for. "You want a good first impression of me for her? I'm a Duke. Shouldn't that be good enough?" It was usually good enough for people who had no need to have any idea how he was as a Warden.

Y/N moved over to his desk and began messing with the gramophone playing the record he had on there last. If she was to have tea then she'd have music as well. "Earl Grey if you don't mind. I actually enjoyed it a lot last time you offered it." The sound of his music was lovely to her ears. "And no your title is not a good enough impression for her. Where do you think I got my dislike of titles from?"

"Well bring her down to the Fortress one day. We can all have lunch together." He offered up the idea as he began to steep the tea for them. "If it's that important to you that I make a good impression on her, I'm sure a lunch here would help."

Y/N sighed and shook her head. "I want her to meet you Ri not the Warden of this Fortress. She can meet that side of you at a later date.” Realistic it was a side that she hoped her Mother would never truly have to meet. “She should meet my friend. The one who could put away two pots of tea and is covered in stickers and loves songs you could easily find yourself slow dancing to." 

“Is that how you view me?”

“You’re also a bit cocky, love to gossip more than you would ever admit and you find too much fun in watching people guess if you are joking around or being serious.” She sat down on the couch in his office. 

“Well, now I’m not giving you your favorite mug.”

Y/N’s laughter filled the room. “You’re so mean. You should be happy I’ve only brought up the good things about you to my mother. I want her to like you.”

“You shouldn’t worry about it too much. Watch Sigewinne find out and she’ll be worried about you for the entire week.”

“I have to worry about it. You’re such a mystery to so much of Fontaine and have way too many rumors floating around you. I don’t want my mother to believe rumors about you.”

Wriothesley began pouring the tea out in the two mugs for them. “If I agree to let you take a picture of me, can we drop this?”

“Under what conditions? I know there’s more than just me dropping this.” She sat straight up excitedly waiting for her mug to be handed to her. He still had her favorite mug out for her. 

“Just be in the photo with me.” 

“Admit you are kamera shy.”

Wriothesley rolled his eyes before handing Y/N her favorite mug and taking a seat on the couch next to her. His mug was placed on the coffee table in front of them. “All because I don’t care to have my photo taken doesn’t mean I’m afraid of the kamera. I just don’t think there’s ever been a good reason that requires a photo of me.”

“So you must find this a good enough reason then.”

“You were going to try and get a photo of me regardless.” With how sneaky she was about handing off more stickers to Sigewinne, Y/N would have an easy chance of taking the photo. Knowing his luck with the woman, he would notice while she laughing over a photo where a stray sticker had wandered towards his face.

She frowned. “What do you take me for? I was only joking earlier. You should know I respect your privacy.”

He shook his head. “I just meant you would keep begging me every time you showed up here. As funny as that would be, I don’t want you to waste your time.”

Y/N laughed. “Do you really think I would be caught begging you for a picture? I could easily convince you into it if I wanted.”

“And how would you do that?”

“Have I not just convinced you?” She drank her tea hiding the smile that crept onto her face.

He sighed realizing he had no way out of her question. “Remind me why I enjoy your company.”

She shrugged. “How am I supposed to know if you never told me? You know Ri, this would be the perfect time to tell me. I’m all ears.” Y/N placed her mug on the coffee table. She scooted closer towards him and looked him in the eyes. There was an attempt at looking like the most innocent person who definitely would never tease him. 

Wriothesley rolled his eyes. “Suddenly I forgot. Whoops,” he spoke with a shrug before reaching down so he could finally enjoy his drink that should have cooled off enough.

She crossed her arms before falling back onto the couch. “You’re an ass.” She told him almost singing it along with the music that played.

“I thought that was just my charming personality. The part you wanted to introduce to your mother.” He began teasing her.

“Don't make me regret telling you that,” she sighed. 

“Which part?”

“The second part. I've never called your personality charming.”

“You sounded charmed when you were describing me moments ago. And considering what you said, I should feel important that you want me to meet her.” He threw her words right back at her. “If you would have regretted it, I don’t think you would have brought it up.”

“If I can reveal all of that to you however indirectly-”

“Seemed pretty direct to me.” He interrupted. His smile was met with a glare. He shrugged a small apology for interrupting her.

“If I can reveal all of that to you indirectly,” she started once again. “I would hope you would understand I’d only regret it if things didn’t go the way I hope they would.” And the most she would hope for now is just a cherished friendship. Even then a cherished friendship was something she could happily live with.

Wriothesley placed his mug back down on the coffee table. “You really do worry too much.” He finally gave in to the thoughts that plagued the back of his mind for many months. He placed the gentlest kiss upon her cheek. “I really don't think you were worried about what your mother would think about me as much as you say it aloud.” He knew her long enough to know when she actually was worried and he couldn’t find any of it within her voice.

Y/N felt frozen. Yes, they flirted back and forth, she was used to that. But she didn't think they would ever act upon anything. She wasn’t even sure if their flirting was serious or just a thing they did jokingly.  “Wriothesley?” She spoke quietly in her shock. Never did she think such an action would steal her thoughts away. It was the last thing she expected but his action was something she welcomed to happen again. 

“Yes?” He leaned back away from her giving her space to process what had happened between them.

“Are you serious?” She began to wonder when their flirting changed from jokes into something different. Had it become serious without her even noticing?

“Only if you had been.” He had been. Playing with someone else’s heart would have been cruel. To love someone platonically, familially, and romantically was something he took seriously. He’d been through enough to know you don’t play with anyone’s heart. A heart is something that should be treated with the utmost care.

“I should be more worried about what she thinks. I'm gonna need her to like you now.”

[roselensedeyes]

The Prophecy - Chapter One

Hello everyone!

I'm so excited to share the first chapter in my elriel meets spyxfamily fic, titled The Prophecy! 💫

This is an AU, so I've taken some creative license for both series.

I hope you enjoy!! Likes, comments and reblogs are MUCH appreciated!!

Pairing: elriel, elain x azriel

Word count: 2.3k

CW: Descriptions of violence

AO3 Link

“I must admit, Azriel, I knew the situation was dire, but this is…” Rhysand trailed off, the words failing him.

Azriel, his brother, could do nothing but give him a grim nod. “We must act immediately.” There was no other choice. Life on Prythian depended on it.

Rhys sighed, rubbing both of his hands over his face. His shoulders hunched, another deep sigh leaving his lips. Azriel looked away.

Not even half a year ago, his brother and High Lord had welcomed a son, Nyx, with his mate, Feyre. Azriel hadn’t been able to see his nephew many times as his job required him to be away for months at times, but he recalled the exact hue of black—a black so deep it resembled the midnight sky— of the baby’s hair, his eyes, blue-gray like his mother’s. The baby’s toothless smiles, his contagious laugh when someone rubbed his belly. The tiny flutters of his wings, begging to fly but too small to support Nyx’s weight yet. 

Nyx was surrounded by love and warmth, by cuddles and kisses, by whispered words of love and loud laughter. Azriel may not be close to him to earn the title of Uncle—no matter what Rhys claimed—but he’d known from the first time he held him in his arms that he would do anything to ensure that Nyx wouldn’t be robbed of the world as he knew it.

Rhys let his hands fall from his face. Azriel could see the exhaustion caused by worry on his brother’s face; it was in the purple bruises under his eyes, the red and glossy veil over his eyes, the marked lines around his mouth. Azriel felt a stab of guilt for telling him the recent intel, but he knew it couldn’t be delayed.

“What do you recommend the course of action to be?” The High Lord asked him.

This was why Azriel had chosen to work for Rhys. Not out of a sense of obligation toward Rhys’ mother, but because he didn’t presume he knew everything simply because he was the ruler. Unlike his predecessors—Rhys’ father—he listened to his opinions, acknowledged Azriel’s areas of expertise gained by centuries of being a spy. 

Meeting his High Lord’s violet eyes, he says, “We need someone to track him down.”

Rhys shook his head. “I can’t ask you to go on another mission. You’ve just returned from your last one!”

“You’re not asking me, I’m doing it out of my own volition,” Azriel said steadily. “Look, you need someone you know you can rely on for this job. That Koschei left his seat at his lake to settle in one of the many villages of Rask is concerning enough. That he only brought a couple of his servants with him, only adds to that concern. If he’s found the Cauldron…”

He left the rest unspoken. They both knew the dangerous threat that hypothetical posed.

Rhysand gave a reluctant nod. “We need to find a way for you to get there.”

“I’ve already thought of a way.”

Rhys’ eyebrows were high on his forehead after Azriel was done explaining his idea. The stars twinkling in the sky behind him shone as brightly as the one in his eyes. Az knew, at once, that his brother was amused by his plan.

He crossed his arms. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

The High Lord’s lips twitched. “I’m just picturing you, pretending to be a stranded merchant, beseeching help from the people of Rask.” He shook his head, a few strands of hair falling across his forehead. A grin spread on his tanned skin. “Whose idea was this? The twins’? Yours?”

Azriel scowled. “I fail to see why that matters.”

“None, none at all,” Rhys said, though his amusement remained. 

Annoyance surged within him, but watching his brother’s eyes light up with delight eased it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen such open joy on his face. That alone was reason enough to allow himself to be Rhysand’s object of mirth.

“So, the plan sees you assuming an alias, going to the Rask village and pretending to be a merchant, who was stranded months before on a remote island and finally found his way back home. Once there, you will work them to your favor until you gain access to Koschei. Once you’ve established what he’s been scheming, we’re going to take him, ensuring he will not destroy the Cauldron and effectively ending life on Prythian.”

Azriel gave a single nod.

Rhys stared at him. “You have wings.”

He shrugged. “I can hide them.” It was true. He learned he could when he was a child, stuck in his Father’s dungeons.

“You will have to actually talk with people,” his High Lord went on.

“And?”

“You’ll have to hold long conversations, crack jokes, make them like you.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I know.” When Rhys didn’t say anything, he added, “I will. It’s not hard.”

Rhys didn’t look at all convinced. “If you’re sure,” he said, his tone indicating he wasn’t.

The full-bloodied Illyrian took some offense to that. “Are you implying I can’t?”

“When was the last time you spent some time with us, your family, Az, and actually enjoyed it?” His brother challenged.

“I always enjoy it,” he protested. 

“I know you do, Cassian, too, but the people who don’t know you don’t. It took Feyre three years to understand you liked being in her company. We can’t afford to wait that long for you to persuade these people you’re one to be trusted,” Rhys retorted.

Azriel couldn’t deny the truth held in his words. He held his chin high. “What do you suggest?” He could tell Rhys was scheming, could see it in his violet eyes.

The other male grimaced. “Well, I’m not entirely sure you’ll like this.”

-

Elain Archeron took a deep, steadying breath, and began writing down what she’d seen a mere minutes ago, her hands slightly shaking.

It was far from being the first time she received visions concerning a middle aged woman. A queen, if the crown atop her head was of any indication. The thought made her hands shake harder.

This was the first time she’d been paralyzed by what her sight had shown her. She wrote faster. She needed to reach Feyre immediately.

It was an usual hot Spring day, and she opted not to wear any additional layers—her chiffon and satin dress was enough. Sprinting down the streets of Velaris, Elain ignored the many looks thrown her way. Not that she could blame them—a young Fae female huffing and puffing, clutching her skirts to prevent from tripping on them, her skin flushed from exertion was sure to attract people’s attention. 

Feyre was in her garden, showing a wide-eyed Nyx the colorful flowers that Elain had planted a couple of months ago. 

“Feyre,” she called.

Her sister jumped, whirling toward her. She brought the arm that wasn’t holding Nyx close to her chest. “Mother bless you, Elain, I didn’t hear you.”

Elain smiled. She took it as a compliment. It had taken months of stealth lessons to be able to sneak up on the Fae. Their enhanced hearing made it near impossible. 

Her nephew babbled, trying to capture her attention. She tickled his soft belly, earning a giggle from him. She pressed a soft kiss on his dark head, before turning back to Feyre.

Her smile slipped as she began recounting her vision. “She’s in one of the villages in Rask.” 

Feyre went still. “Are you certain?” Her grip on her son tightened.

“Yes.” She hesitated before adding, her voice tremulous, “She’s… She’s found it.”

Color bleached from Feyre’s cheeks. She took a seat on a nearby chair, Elain taking the other. Tense, worried silence settled between them, the only sound being Nyx’s babbling. Finally, Elain broke it. “I’m going to Rask.”

“Absolutely not,” Feyre replied immediately. 

The brown-eyed sister suppressed an irritated sigh. Even after all these years, her sisters had troubles allowing her to make her own decisions. No matter how many times she proved herself, they still saw her as a little girl in dire need of guidance. “I am,” she said firmly. “I may not be a good fighter like you and Nesta, but I know how to defend myself. You know the closer I am to her, the more detailed and the more frequent the visions will be.” It was how her visions worked. 

Yet Feyre shook her head. “I can’t let you—”

“You don’t have to let me do anything, actually.” Her sister flinched. Realizing how harsh her tone had been, Elain said gently, “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry. But Feyre, I know what I am doing. I know what I’m going against. I can’t sit here and do nothing, when the Mortal Queen has the Cauldron and I could find a way to stop her.” She let the words sink in, before going for the killing blow. “I couldn’t live with myself, knowing I could have stopped her and didn’t simply because I abhor violence. I want Nyx to grow up in a better world than we did.”

She deserved Feyre’s glare. She didn’t shy away from it, instead met her sister’s eyes. Worry and surrender battled in the blue-gray of her eyes,

At last, the High Lady of the Night Court, sighed. “There’s nothing I can say to change your mind, is there?”

Elain simply shook her head. 

“Even if I warned you Nesta won’t be alright with your decision?”

Again, the brown-eyed of the two sisters gave a curt shake of her head.

Her sister just let out another sigh. “Tell me your plan.”

Hiding her smile at this small victory, Elain explained, “I was thinking I could pretend to be a young widow, seeking shelter in the small Rask village. No one would suspect an heartbroken, innocent woman in need—”

“Wait,” Feyre interrupted her. “The old Mortal Queen is in a village in Rask?”

“Yes,” Elain answered, her brows furrowed in confusion.

“I may have another solution,” the High Lady said, enigmatically.

-

Sitting at Feyre and Rhysand’s dining room table, Azriel couldn’t help but pick up on how on edge everyone seemed to be. Next to him was Rhys, who was busy staring at his mate, sitting right across him on the other couch. Doubtless, they were having some mind-to-mind conversation, thanks to their daemati abilities.

Unfortunately, it meant the other two people in the room with them were left in an awkward silence. Azriel looked up at Elain, attempting at subtlety, just to find her staring at him unabashed.

This was the first time they met. He’d heard plenty of Feyre’s older sister, but he never would have imagined how beautiful she was. Her golden brown hair was done nicely in a waterfall braid. The sunlight made her brown eyes shine like warm honey. 

She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

And she was going to be his pretend wife.

That was Feyre and Rhys’ plan. For Azriel and Elain to go to the Rask village together, as husband and wife. 

He met her eyes. She glanced away, a soft blush spreading on her cheeks. Azriel cocked his head. What was she thinking? Why had she agreed to do this?

Rhys cleared his throat. “Well,” he began, before stopping. He looked at his mate, who rolled her eyes and spoke instead.

“So, Elain, this is Azriel. Azriel, this is Elain, my sister,” she introduced them. “We all know why we’re here, so let’s get straight to the point. You both need to go to this village in Rask. I don’t feel comfortable letting a young woman—my sister—travel alone by herself.” Azriel noticed Elain’s lips tightened. “And Azriel, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but you need a cover to make people less frightened of you.” Feyre inadvertently glanced at his scarred hands. It was hard not to hide them from sight. He didn’t look to see if Elain was studying them, too. He didn’t know what he would say or do if she was. “Rhys and I believe you can help each other out. You can pretend you’re a newly married couple, looking to settle down in this village. You can figure out the details as you go.”

Silence blanketed the room. 

“I’ll do it,” Elain announced. They all turned to look at her. Color bloomed on her cheeks at the sudden attention. Looking at Azriel, she said, “If you’re fine with it, of course.” She bit her lower lip.

Azriel found himself nodding without really thinking about it. 

Feyre and Rhys both seemed to let out a relieved sigh. “Perfect. You’re leaving in two weeks, the passage has already been taken care of.” 

“You’ll need rings, of course. Azriel, can you take care of that?” Feyre addressed him.

Rings. Elain will need a ring, he thought. Again, he nodded without saying anything. He threw a quick glance toward Elain. She was staring at her hand, where a finger should—<i>will</i>—be. He tucked away his puzzlement. Later, when he was alone, he’d have all the time in the world to go over his first meeting with her.

-

One, two, three.

Four, five, six.

seven, eight, nine.

Her small hands closed tightly over her ears, Tesni kept counting numbers, mumbling them to try to block out the screams in the background.

She was squeezed back against the wall of her mother’s dresser. She could see her chest rise quickly, beads of sweat crowning her forehead. Little, frantic sobs burst out of her mouth. She clamped her mouth shut, bringing her hands over it.

She heard everything clearly now. Her mother’s pleas, her father’s shouts as he tried to protect his mate.

Tesni kept counting, over and over again, long after her parents ceased crying and silence reigned once more. Long after the first rays of sunshine bathed the room with light.

A sharp metallic tang had built for a few hours now, overwhelming her sensitive nose.

When her neighbors found her, Tesni was lying on the dresser floor, still mumbling numbers. As they carried away from the carnage, wondering how she had survived for so long by herself, three words were ringing in her head, a last gift from her parents.

Remember the prophecy. 

[onthewaytosomewhere]

💚thanks ever so much for the tags my dears @sophie1973 @theprinceandagcd @henryspearl @myheartalivewrites @sheepywritesfics

@suseagull04 & @taste-thewaste 😘

so after posting that lil fic on Sunday I've moved right back to what I need to be working on ... my fic for the @ficwip dark & cozy event

so i played with a lil art for it and wrote some words last night so it's moving along (even if it has a fair bit to go yet lolz) (even if i really wanna work on the new liam/pez i started last night as well)

putting this all beneath the cut cuz a bit of art (still also WIP) and words shared today 💚

i'm really torn on these i really kinda like the coffee shop sign and not sure if need to work it into the title card or keep it so they just share similar elements and post both with the fic... or if i even really like the title card - i suppose that's why its a wip lolz

and now here's (wonderwall) words from the same fic 💚

“Thanks, Nora swears that I’ve become more of a klutz since the change, and I don’t need any more reasons for her to threaten to spend all my money on new cups for this place.” The smile Henry gives him as he hands the cup and saucer to Alex almost seems shy, and it should appear out of place on someone who’s lived as many lives as he has, but Alex can’t help but think how it makes him want to kiss him. It’s as if some force he can’t explain is pulling him toward Henry. He’s been able to resist the pull for the sake of not wanting to come on too strong, but really, it’s getting harder not to make a fool of himself over Henry. There’s a moment when time seems to freeze between them, and then Alex is brought out of it when Henry speaks, “Well, we can’t have that; you need that money to take me out once you finally work up the courage to ask.” Alex drops the cup in his hand, and once again, Henry catches it before it can hit the floor, this time setting it back on the table. “I’m sorry … what?! … how …” Alex takes a deep breath, begging his mind to stop acting like a computer that has blue-screened, and continues, “So, you’d be up for that?” Henry smiles at him, and Alex’s already fast-beating heart stutters, “Well, as good as your tea is, it’s not the only reason I frequent your shop.” “But, you’ve never said anything. Hell, you barely talk past your order most nights unless I talk to you first.” “To be fair, you never said anything either, but I’m not as brave as this moment would have you believe. I may have spent too much time around Pez lately, and well, if I have to hear him tell me one more time that I should ‘suck it up and say something so I could suck what I really wanted,’ well, it will be one more time too many, truly.” “Huh, so ‘ya vaaant to suck my bluuudd’ do ya?” Alex replies with his worst stereotypical vampire accent. He rakes his eyes over Henry’s body and waits until Henry takes a drink of his tea to continue, “There’s definitely a few things I wouldn’t mind getting my mouth on.” Henry nearly chokes on the tea, and Alex never actually realized that vampires could choke, but apparently, that’s a thing that can happen. Henry looks at him, blue eyes full of mirth, and smirks, “Noted.” Alex nearly falls over when the bell above the door chimes; so much for his Were instincts being strong when he’s lost in flirting with pretty men or … well, vamps. Before turning to the customer entering, he whispers, “We will be coming back to this later.” Henry gives him one of those damn enigmatic smiles of his, and Alex nearly tells the customer to leave so he can stay there flirting with him. However, once he turns and sees who it is, he knows that won’t be happening.

i'm just gonna slap some tags down here so if i miss ya and ya wanna do this consider this ur big ole open tag!!

no-pressure tag ur it! to @adreamareads @anincompletelist @blueeyedgrlwrites @caterpills @duchessdepolignaca03

@england-would-fall @firenati0n @firstsprinces @forever-fixating @getmehighonmagic

@heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inell @inexplicablymine @itsmaybitheway

@jmagnabo92 @littlemisskittentoes @mikibwrites @nocoastposts @priincebutt

@softboynick @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow @tailsbeth-writes @thesleepyskipper

@thinkof-england @tinyarmedtrex @typicalopposite @everwitch-magiks @cricketnationrise

@myheartalivewrites @porcelainmortal @eusuntgratie @bigassbowlingballhead @captainjunglegym

@cha-melodius @kiwiana-writes @judasofsuburbia @doublecheekedkinard @cricketnationrise

(i realize it's no longer wednesday for some of ya and some of ya may have already done this but - my fingers typed ur name so 'hi' if that's the case lolz)

[millersdjarin]

Some Invisible String

Chapter I: High Tide

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: E (eventually)

Summary: Ten years after Reader left Joel for reasons he still doesn't know, they find themselves together again in a town called Jackson. Joel has questions he's too afraid to ask; and Reader dreads having to give the answers.

Tags/Warnings: eventual smut, post tlou part I, jackson era joel <3, emotion!!!

Chapter length: 3.3k

notes: my first multi-chapter joel fic! overall title is from taylor swift's "invisible string", chapter I title also from taylor, "this love" ♥︎ eventual smut will be here too! so far it's going to be 5 chapters :) enjoy! ps. i recently switched to writing in second person but when i wrote this fic i was still writing in first person, hope u don't mind! will be posting updates regularly

I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea. Really, I don’t. 

But, then again, nothing has been a good idea in twenty years, and I’m still here. So, there’s that. 

One minute I was out hunting in the snow, tracking a deer that made itself vulnerable in the woods beside a half-frozen creek. If I could get him, I thought, it’d keep me going with food for a week at least. Best thing about winter: food stays fresh in the cold. 

Worst thing: everything else. Literally everything else. 

Because now, what started as a quick hunt with an almost-guaranteed prize at the end, has ended in me literally fighting for my fucking life, rolling around in foot-deep snow as runners try to rip the shit out of me. 

It doesn’t help that the commotion has led a bunch of local hunters—who clearly had the same idea as me—to my location. They’ve got the deer, they’ve shot me in the leg, and I’m either going to bleed out, get bitten, or get eaten by infected. 

So, this is great. 

Blood rushing in my ears, I seize the moment a hunter shoots one of the nearby runners and use it to take shelter behind a rock for a minute, surrounded by the groans and screams of infected who are still searching for me or attacking the hunters. Gunshots ring loud throughout the air, along with the smashing of a few molotovs as the bottles hit the snow, the roaring of flames as they engulf bodies. 

My leg is bleeding into the snow. Actually, it’s damn near gushing, pulsing out with each beat of my heart. 

Footsteps are getting closer to me. I try to put pressure on the wound, but the bullet is still there, and it fucking hurts, and my vision is going blurry. The screams of infected are getting less and less as, presumably, the men take them out. 

I’m not bitten. Not yet. But that’s the least of my worries, if the pool of red snow I’m creating below me is anything to go by. 

It’s starting to leech into the snow surrounding the rock, easily giving away my location. As the last infected screams with a squelch of a blade into one of its body parts, one of the men shouts, “Hey! She’s over there! Flank her!” 

Ha. As if they even need to flank me. 

My head is spinning. Blood, shiny and thick, coats my hands. It’s all over me. It’s fucking everywhere. It won’t stop bleeding. 

I’m going to fucking die. 

These men are going to kill me, or do worse while they wait for me to die. Surviving the apocalypse as a woman is a fucking joke. 

I reach for my gun, but there are spots in my vision now. Dark red and black. It’s a mixture of real blood in my eyes and blood loss making me dizzy. I can feel it fading. All of it. The cold, the feeling in my body, the sound around me, everything…

It’s fading. 

There are heavy, men’s footsteps getting closer. 

I’m just debating whether I have the strength to fight back, or even to just end it all myself before they get chance, when I hear it. 

A new gun. A new set of voices. The hunters’ attention is turned away from me once more as their footsteps crunching in the snow turn away and head for whoever else has decided to grace us with their presence. 

It doesn’t matter. I’m out anyway. After all this time, all this fighting, after everything I’ve lost—I’m going to die here in the snow, in the middle of nowhere in Jackson County, after being shot by a fucking hunter. 

Then, I hear a voice. 

It could be a southern accent. I could swear that it is - that it’s real.

But I always knew that in my last moments I’d hear him, real or not. It’s been ten years, but I still hear him in the night sometimes, as I’m falling asleep or jolting awake. Sometimes when I get injured, I hear him tutting, I feel his fingers on my skin, patching me up. 

Now, sitting here dying in the snow, I could swear that it’s him.

It’s not. It can’t be. 

But as the last of my consciousness fades, as I feel the final thread of me begin to fray, I let myself believe that it is. 

I hold onto the sound. So clear, like he’s right there next to me. 

I never wanted to die alone. I’m going to pretend that I won’t. 

“Joel…” I feel his name slip through my lips for the first time in years. 

His name, and his voice saying my name in return, are the last things I hear before I go. 

-

Well, goddamn. 

If this is hell, there is no fire, so it could be worse; but if it’s heaven, Jesus, I don’t want it.

I can’t even wake up. My eyes feel heavy. It’s like I’m clawing back to consciousness after a bad fever. After a surgery that went wrong. Before I can even think or begin to open my eyes or listen for sounds, I can feel that every inch of me hurts. Like I’ve been cut open, rearranged, and sewn back together again. 

So, it’s not heaven. Cool. Fine. I’m going to suffer for eternity, then? 

Except, when I hear it, I freeze. (Metaphorically speaking. I’m already frozen in whatever spot I’ve been cursed to.) 

“She’s waking up.” That isn’t Joel. But it’s similar, and familiar. It sounds like...

Why the hell is Tommy here?

Then, it’s his voice again. My name, in Joel’s voice. 

If nothing else, the confusion gets me to force my eyes open. 

And the first thing I see is him. 

“Hey,” Joel says, “can you hear me? Wake up…you’re safe…” 

I blink a few times. Then, beneath the pain in my body, I realise that I’m warm. I’m under something soft and cosy; a wool blanket, it feels like, if the scratching against my bare arms is anything to go by. 

Any other sensation doesn’t really matter right now, though, because I can’t take my eyes off of Joel. He’s just there, hovering above me with even more creases on his forehead than I remember, an especially big one sitting between his eyebrows right now that looks like someone’s drawn it there. 

“You’re alright, you’re alright,” he sounds distant but close all at once, and soft and gruff just like he used to. 

“I…” I manage to stammer while I vaguely register that there is daylight around us, though it’s fading into shades of amber and pink. Approaching sunset. Last I remember, it had only just risen.

Not without struggle, I get my body to move, but the second I shift in my place, a blinding pain shoots from my leg to all angles, hitting my head and my toes. 

Well. I’m starting to think I’m not actually dead. 

“Hey, don’t try to move, you’re hurt,” Joel says again. 

Joel. 

...Joel? 

Joel!? 

“J—Joel?” As I start to realise that it seems I am very much alive, somehow that fact just makes for more confusion. I look around, and Tommy is there, too, standing by the room’s window, leaning on the butt of his rifle where it sits at his chest, the barrel facing the floor. He looks older, too. Much older. He’s got almost as many wrinkles and greys as Joel does now. 

Someone else enters the picture after a minute. A woman with a frown of concern pushes Joel away—in my delirium I almost forget that he’s probably real, and that it wouldn’t be appropriate to reach out and pull him back—and then her face is above mine, shining a torch in my eyes. 

I squint against it but she holds my eyes open and inspects them. “How are you feeling?” She asks. Her voice is husky but kind, the faintest trace of a Brooklyn accent making itself known. 

“I—confused,” is all I can say, dumbly. Joel is standing behind her, looking over her shoulder with a frown that reaches new depths. (He frowned a lot back in the day, but geez, he’s got even better at it.) “Where am I? Who—who are you?” 

“I’m Angela,” she answers, removing the blinding torch from my eyes, instead pressing two firm fingers into the pulse point on my wrist. “You’re in a town called Jackson. It seems you already know these two fellas.” 

“I—yeah,” I manage to laugh a little in disbelief. Tommy is still there on the opposite side of the room, smiling just a little, fond and nostalgic. It’s then that Angela’s words hit me. A town? “I…is this…am I…the hunters…you…?” My words aren’t coherent or related enough to count as a sentence, or even a completed question. 

“It’s our town,” Tommy says with a small smile. “You got nothin’ to worry about. No one here’s a hunter, and you’re in good hands.” He nods to Angela. 

I look back to her and frown at the way she’s wrapping a blood pressure cuff around my arm. “Are you…a doctor?” 

“I am,” she answers. “You got shot. Lost a lot of blood. These two found you just outside town with barely enough time—or blood—to spare.” 

I can’t stop glancing between Angela, Joel, and Tommy. It’s like I’m watching a tennis match between three people. 

I’m still not entirely sure this is real. In a fever dream, or even in my last moments, my brain would definitely conjure up something like this. A safe town, where I’m under a warm blanket, on a soft bed, and being looked after by two people who used to be the most important people in my life. 

“I…” I’m interrupted by the door swinging open. It lets in a brief shock of cold wind, but Joel quickly reaches out to close it behind whoever has just come in. 

“Ellie, I told you to wait outside,” Joel says lowly, so quiet I can barely hear him. 

“It’s freezing out there! And I’m worried. Is she awake—?” The girl—Ellie, apparently—pushes past Joel to look over Angela’s shoulder at me. Her concerned frown relaxes when she sees me. She’s just a kid; probably barely fifteen. I’ve never seen her before, but she’s looking at me like she was terrified I was going to die. “Oh, you’re awake!” 

“I…am.…”

Joel puts his hand on Ellie’s shoulder and gently pulls her back a little. “Give her some space. Angela’s still working.” 

“You know, she’s the best. Last month Joel dislocated his shoulder and she reset it before he could even scream—”

“Alright,” Joel interrupts her, “Ellie. Why don’t you get our guest some food, alright?” 

“Something hot,” Angela requests. 

A hot meal and a comfortable bed. This has to be some kind of pre-death dream.

“It’s almost dinner time at the kitchen,” Tommy offers with a knowing smile, “see what you can rustle up.” 

Ellie sighs, but nods. Before turning to leave, she looks at me again and says, “I’m glad you’re okay. I’ll get you the good stuff.” 

The door lets in another whoosh of cold air, but Joel closes it as soon as possible. It’s then that I realise there’s a fireplace on the wall behind the bed; the flames crackle in the light breeze before settling down again. 

“I need to check your wound,” Angela says. “Don’t suppose one of you boys can help me out? I need someone to distract her.” 

“Distract me? From what?” 

“I’m gonna take off your bandage and check the stitches. Then I’m gonna clean it. It’s going to hurt.” 

“I don’t need distracting,” I say, meaning it. I’ve dealt with worse. Hell, somehow I survived this. But Joel is still gazing at me, his eyes roaming over me from head to toe, like he’s scanning for even the slightest inkling that something else is wrong they haven’t noticed yet. (Seems unlikely—I’m wearing different clothes than I was before.)

Mentally squirming under his gaze for the first time in a long time, when I never thought I would again, I realise that I might not need distracting, but I do need answers. 

Or something close to it. 

“I’ll stay,” Joel offers, as if reading my mind. He was always so good at that. It’s weird. Someone so emotionally unavailable shouldn’t be good at that. 

Tommy pushes off from the wall, stopping at the foot of my bed. “Don’t be afraid to break his hand,” he offers, grinning lopsidedly, “man needs an excuse to stop for one goddamn minute.” He grins at Joel when he grumbles in response. “I’ll be outside. Need anythin’, give me a holler.” And with that, he’s out the door. 

Angela carefully pulls the blanket up and away from my leg, revealing the side of my thigh where the bullet went in. It hurts for something to even be moving in close proximity to it, like my skin is on red alert. 

I wish I could say I’ve gotten good at hiding my pain, after all these years of surviving it; but I haven’t. It still shows on my face like it did the day the outbreak happened; like it did when I was barely an adult.

Joel knows. He pulls up a wooden chair beside my bed, offers up his scarred, calloused hand. There’s an expression on his face I can’t quite read. The faintest hints of a sheepish smile, maybe, crows feet deepening around his eyes. It looks like he’s saying, Funny seein’ you here, and I can hear that in his voice, gruff and sarcastic, so I just imagine that that’s what he’s trying to say. 

I glance down at his hand, then back up. For a moment I consider not taking it. 

It’s been ten years. 

I left for a reason. 

But then Angela starts pulling at the bandage wrapped tight around my leg, and the pain is fucking horrific. It’s a stabbing, a pulling, and an aching all at once. It starts at the bullet wound and pulses out like cracks of lightning, through my bones, my nerves, up my hips and to my neck. 

A sharp inhale through my teeth, a blinding flash of pain that whites out my vision for a second, and I’m reaching for Joel’s hand before I can even think any more about it.

“Why don’t you tell me what the hell you’re doin’ here?” Joel’s voice comes through the blood rushing through my ears. “Last I saw you, we were in Texas.”

“What—what am I doing here?” I laugh, incredulous, and gasp as another wave of pain comes. “I don’t even—know—where I am.” Angela is working away and it hurts, it fucking hurts. But I think, at least, this is the final piece of proof I needed to confirm that I am not actually dead.

That, and the way Joel’s thumb is smoothing over the top of my hand, even though I’m squeezing his so hard that it must hurt like fuck. He’s doing it like he’s not even thinking about it. Like it’s second nature. 

I left for a reason. 

“You’re in Jackson,” he says. 

“I know that. I just—don’t—” I grunt in between words as Angela takes alcohol to the wound. “I don’t know how far—how far you took me—”

“You were barely outside the town. The hunters that got you were bandits on their way to us."

"Right," I say, still not really understanding.

"So it’s just coincidence we found ourselves together again?” 

Yes! I left for a fucking reason! 

I’m realising I’m not saying it out loud. 

I’m not saying it out loud because I never even told Joel there was a reason, let alone what that reason actually was. 

“I—guess so,” I grit out. “Sometimes the Universe likes to laugh at us. I—oh, Jesus!” A particularly intense stab of pain comes as Angela starts dabbing at the wound. It’s a bruise, a gash, a cut, all at once. 

“It’s alright, hey, just look at me,” Joel’s voice comes, so familiar that it hurts, so soft that it hurts—“Look right at me. That’s it. Do you remember where you were when this happened?” 

“I—in the snow,” I answer, staring into his eyes like they’re a lifeline. Angela has started wrapping a new bandage around it now, tight and secure. It hurts. It just fucking hurts. Everything fucking hurts. “The forest. I was—hunting for food. Then…infected. Infected came and—then—hunters…” 

Joel nods, encouraging me to continue. 

I can’t, though. The pain is too much. Looking at him is too much. 

I screw my eyes shut, and a traitorous, humiliating tear spills from one of them. In frustration, a groan splits past my lips, and I reach up my other hand to wipe away the tear. 

“Nearly done,” Angela promises.

My teeth are biting down on my lip so hard that I can taste blood; but the pain of that is paling in comparison to everything else, so it doesn’t bother me. 

“God fucking dammit,” I grunt as another tear falls. 

Down to my very core, it is humiliating. 

To be here, writhing in pain, and crying in front of Joel, of all people. Crying during the apocalypse. Crying because he’s there. Because his eyes are still the same.

I’ve always been too soft. I was never as hard as Joel. Or as anyone else around me. 

As a kid, books always said that being soft was a strength in its own way. That it was a quality to be proud of. But in this world, all it’s ever brought me is close to death.

“All done,” Angela says. 

Though the pain is still very much alive and well, I breathe out a sigh of relief, waiting eagerly for it to ebb. Realising I’m still holding onto Joel’s hand so tight that my knuckles have gone white, I release him, and take a deep breath. 

“Good job,” he says. Whether he’s saying it to me or Angela, I’m not sure. He observes his hand, lifting it up to look at as he stretches his fingers out. “Jesus, woman. Gonna need a new hand after that.” 

I laugh, breathy. “I had permission.” 

“From Tommy,” Joel counters with a grumble. 

“I knew you wouldn’t mind.” I say it before I can give it permission. And the softness in my voice—well. That’s just downright not fair. 

Joel’s eyes meet mine again. He holds them there for a moment too long. Looks like he might want to say something, but then doesn’t, and stands up. His green flannel shirt stretches so nicely over his shoulders, even broader now than they were back then. His hair is flecked with grey, as is his beard, which is longer now. 

I used to lie awake at night and imagine running my fingers over it. I used to cherish the way my hands fit over his shoulders when he boosted me up onto a ledge. The way the muscles in his arms flexed and showed veins when I hoisted him up behind me. 

We used to be a team, me, him, and Tommy. 

Now, staring at him as he leans against the doorframe, folding his arms over his chest, I think about those times. I can’t help it. There are dark and grey hairs on his chest, peeking up above the top button. I remember how his heart feels under there from the time I had to stitch up a gash there. I remember his pulse, from keeping my finger on it all night when he was feverish from an infected knife wound. 

Tommy and I nursed him back, but I thought we’d lost him. 

I thought a lot of things.

And, well. There was no other choice. 

I left.

♥︎chapter 1/5♥︎

notes: if u wanna be on the taglist, let me know however you'd like: in a reblog, reply, message, or an ask :) all interactions are appreciated, but comments and reblogs especially make my heart go brrr♡ happy tlou show day btw :D

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Temple Heights

Author: Tierra469

Artist: ariasune

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Dean/Cas, Sam/Eileen

Length: 30000

Warnings: undefined

Tags: Post-Canon Fix-It, Case Fic, Road Trip, Sexual Tension, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Gay Sex, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Mentions of Suicide (case-related)

Posting Date: October 10, 2023

Summary: Four years after Castiel is subsumed into the Empty, he returns to snatch Dean from death’s door. Dean had never expected to see his best friend again, and had made his peace with Castiel’s death. Or so he thought. Castiel’s return gives them both a second chance at love—if Dean can get past his complicated feelings and Cas can survive the transition he’s undergoing, and the case Dean, Cas and Sam take on together (for old time’s sake and a mini-vacation) at Temple Heights Spiritualist Camp in Maine—a case that holds eerie and tragic parallels to their own love story.

Excerpt: Dean cut the engine and got out of the car, suddenly enveloped in the stillness of the night, the smell of low tide and the sound of his boots, finally, on the wooden dock as he walked out to the end. When he reached Castiel, he sat down quietly beside him, but the angel didn’t look at him. His friend gazed out across the bay, fear and sadness in the shadows of his face. “Talk to me, buddy,” Dean said. Cas just stared, but his hands in his lap clenched tighter. “We promised to tell each other the truth,” Dean reminded him. “What’s been eating you all day?” Castiel’s face crumpled. “Dean… I fear I’ve made a mistake. Perhaps I should not have returned.” Dean felt his heart plummet—a cold stone settling in his stomach. “Why not?” “I’ve opened a door. I’ve opened a door once again that should have stayed closed. If there are other angels following in my footsteps—what now? What have I done?” Dean didn’t have an answer for that. He reached over and laid a hand on Cas’ thigh. The angel wouldn’t look at him. “What have I done to Jack? If his own… his own family is disobedient—who else will stand by him? What if there is general rebellion? And what will happen here if more angels decide to return? They could amass an army here. I need to know what’s happening. I need to talk to Jack.” “Is that what you’ve been doin’ for the past hour? Thinking up worst-case scenarios?” “Worst-case scenarios seem to follow me.” “Mmm. Well.” Dean gave his leg a little squeeze. “Luckily I eat worst-case scenarios for breakfast.” “This is serious, Dean—but it shouldn’t be your problem. You and Sam don’t need to help. I can find Christopher and I can talk to him. Perhaps I can gain some information, find out why he’s here and what’s happening in Heaven. Take care of the problem if I have to.” “Pretty sure I know why he’s here. And Sam and I aren’t going anywhere. We took this case together, remember?” “Why is he here?” Castiel asked. “Same reason you are. For love. Only his girl wasn’t here when he got here.” Dean told Cas the whole story that Cynthia had just related to them. Castiel closed his eyes, falling silent. “You really wishing you were back in Heaven?” Dean asked, not wanting to hear the answer. “I’m wishing I hadn’t abandoned Jack. And I’m wishing my actions hadn’t put anyone in danger again. But no—I’m not wishing that.” Dean took a deep breath, determined to comfort his friend. “Listen,” he said. He reached over to lay his hand atop Castiel’s clenched fists. “Jack is GOD now. He’s got things under control. You know he loves you and wants you to be happy. You know he understands. Hell, he wouldn’t have kept that escape hatch open if he didn’t expect you to use it.”

DCBB 2023 Posting Schedule

[frownyalfred]

admittedly im not very familiar with the songs but throwing my 2 cents in for potential sequel title ideas: -The ticking and the tocking clock - Somewhere in between (not quite the same cadence as the others but immediately made me think of the joker w the warehouse bomb countdown clock so had to include it lol) -The Night and the Daylight - Somewhere in between (à la its always darkest before the dawn, it gets worse so much worse before it gets better vibes) -A Storm in the swimming pool - How to be Invisible (sounds kinda angsty and fits w the naming convention lol) -The edge of a mirror - An architect's dream (also bit of an angsty vibe. mirror of the joker killing robin and now wanting for sure nothing good for the twins [and bruce]?) - A veil of diamond dust - Nocturn (why is the diamond dust? diamonds are formed under pressure but even they will eventually crumble to dust if too much force is applied. Veil as in wedding? or as in the veil between life and death? a death shroud is also just cloth like a veil is. veil is also used meaning to cover or conceal)

ive fallen down a rabbit hole of reading all the lyrics and trying to think of angsty interpretations of them so i'll stop here 😂 its always fascinating to me all the different reasons authors have for their titles, for me i feel like that would be the hardest part i stress over what to name my pets in video games let alone a fic other people are going to read 😂

Whatever the title of the fic is im sure it will be amazing as always :D

Ahhh thank you for these! I am super weird about naming fics. All of the titles tend to be lyrics and usually lyrics from songs I’ve either been listening to while writing, or lyrics that fit what happens in the story itself.

I really want to make a lyric from Aerial work for this fic, but as you’ve noticed Kate Bush gets pretty weird outside of the ones I’ve already chosen.

I’ll find something! I need to percolate. Thank you for your help :)

[spiteless-xo]

╰┈➤ fake dating - tbaw. ⋙ sometime during arc 1.

why was it deleted. ididn't really like the fake dating plotline for this story because it meant that any development between jean/reader would be seen as cheating from jean's perspective, and it seemed out of character for him to do that after his history with pieck. having this fic be a love triangle with a fake dating storyline didn't really make sense. what changed. you ask eren to be your fake boyfriend instead of just friends with benefits. eren already knows he's in love with you at this point. you get a little bit of jean's pov here. jean and eren's relationship isn't as toxic/strained as in the published story. tbh this almost feels like an entirely different story, it's so weird to read it compared to what's on ao3. ft. fem!reader, eren, jean, connie, sasha. cw. unedited, explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral sex, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected, creampie, overstimulation/crying, name calling: slut, exhibitionism-ish), second person pov, 5,000 words.

Please remember that this scene was deleted for a reason and that nothing that happens here occurs in the actual story posted on AO3. This is just fun bonus content for people who are interested in reading more.

context. none needed.

You text Eren later that day, asking him to come over so the two of you can talk. Eren’s not sure what you want to talk about, but he rushes over anyway, excited to see you.

When you let him into your house, his heart clenches at the sight of you. You look happy again, for the first time in a while.

He can’t control the smile on his face as you lead him up into your bedroom and quietly shut the door behind you. “What do you wanna talk about?” He asks, settling into your bed as you sit on the edge next to him.

“You can’t laugh, ok?” you say, Eren can see you pouting at him from the corner of his eye.

“I promise.”

You lace your fingers with his as Eren struggles to focus on your face. “Did you ever see that Netflix movie with Lana Condor?”

“Who?”

“To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before?”

Eren wasn’t familiar, but hearing you say the title makes his heart tighten. Were you going to confess your feelings for him? He wanted to pull you into his lap but you were sitting a little too far away. “No, I haven’t seen that one,” he says as he scootches closer to you until your thighs are pressed against one another.

“It’s about a girl who writes letters to all the boys she’s loved --”

“Uh huh,” Eren says, his hand squeezing around yours.

“-- and her little sister mails them all out - whatever, it doesn’t really matter the whole plot.” You wave your other hand in dismissal as Eren brushes a loose strand of hair out of his face and behind his ear.

“Come on,” Eren urges, squeezing your hand tighter. “Tell me about the movie - or whatever.”

You laugh, eyes crinkling as you look at Eren and he wants to grab your face and kiss you, but he waits.

“I don’t know if you’ll be into it, but I have this crazy idea I wanted to run by you.”

Spit it out.

“Do you want to be my fake boyfriend?”

Eren feels like his brain is lagging. “Your… what?”

“In the movie, the two characters fake date to make the guy’s ex-girlfriend jealous,” you explain, looking away. “Jean was really jealous of us hooking up, so I think that if you and I fake date, I can finally help him realize his feelings for me.”

Jean fucking Kirstein. It all comes back to him.

With your face turned away, you don’t see the disappointment etched on Eren’s face. He pulls his hands free from yours and leans back on the bed to rest on his forearms, running a hand through his hair as he thinks.

Fake date the girl he’s in love with to make the guy she’s in love with jealous - how pathetic.

“We can like, hook up and stuff, just like before,” you say. “But then also, you can like, stay the night at my place and join us for movie nights and stuff.” You shrug and look over at him, blushing in embarrassment. “Is that ok? Or is that weird?”

“Sure,” he says. He’d be pathetic for you.

You smile at Eren and it all feels worth it. “Thanks, Eren,” you say with a sigh and you toss your leg across his hips, straddling him on the bed. “Do you want to hook up right now?”

Yes, desperately. “What about your roommates?” he asks, looking up at you as you run your hands up and down his chest. 

“They’re not home right now,” you say before leaning forward to kiss softly against Eren’s neck. “Sasha’s playing soccer and the boys are out picking up food for movie night.”

“Movie night’s tonight?” Eren asks, laying flat on his back so his hands can press into your thighs. 

“Well, it’s the long weekend, so movie night is every night,” you laugh against his skin. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“Oh, I want to,” he says, voice low as his fingers slide under the fabric of your shorts to grab your ass. “I’ve missed you so much, baby.”

Fake dating isn’t what Eren wants from you, but it doesn’t sound so bad when you’re grinding on his lap like this. And you want him to stay the night and hang out with your friends - that sounds great. So what if you’re just using him to make Jean jealous? 

Eren knows Jean doesn’t give a shit about you, so it doesn’t matter how jealous you make him, he’ll still be fucking oblivious. And Eren will get to fuck you and kiss you and hold your hand and sleep in your bed. This plan sounds better and better the more Eren thinks about it.

He flips you over on to your back, caging his arms around your head as he looks down at you. “Fake dating,” he says, dipping his head down to bite at your neck. “So I get to tell everyone you’re my girlfriend, right?”

You hum in response, tilting your head to the side to allow Eren more space to lick and suck and bite. You wrap your legs around his hips, locking your ankles together behind him, and pull him tight against your body as his lips roam across your collarbones.

“I can hold your hand and shit at work? Take you for lunch? Fuck you in the break room?”

You try to laugh but it’s cut off by a moan with Eren sinks his teeth into your skin. He slides off the floor and on to his knees next to the bed, tugging on the waistband of your shorts to pull them off of your hips. He needs to taste you.

[DELETED ORAL SEX SCENE FROM HERE AND PUT INTO CHAPTER 16]

You don’t know how long has passed and how many orgasms he’s pulled from you by the time Jean and Connie return home. Even in your post-/pre-/mid-orgasmic haze, you can still hear Connie yelling when he enters the house.

You look down at Eren through half-lidded eyes, pulling harder on his hair to pull his mouth from you. “Eren -- stop -- they --” you can hardly speak as his eyes flick up to meet your gaze, glinting with mischief as he draws another choked orgasm from your exhausted body.

You hear a faint knocking on your door over the lewd sounds of Eren’s tongue on your cunt. “Are you home? We’re gonna start dinner soon.” It’s Jean.

“Don’t open the door!” you say quickly, eyes looking down at Eren in alarm as he pauses - finally.

“You ok?” Jean asks from the other side.

Eren gets up from off the floor, leaning his body over yours as his fingers play with your clit. His face is covered in you and it makes your heart lurch in your chest. Why did the boys have to come home already?

“Hey, you good?” Jean asks, knocking again.

“Yes!” you gasp as Eren plunges his fingers inside of you. You can’t tell how many he’s pushed into you, but the sensation of finally being filled after being tortured with his tongue for so long almost makes you come undone on the spot.

Jean asks another question from outside your room and all you can do is cover your mouth from a strangled moan as Eren’s fingers curl inside of you.

“We’ll come out in a sec,” Eren says, voice calm and collected as you fuck yourself on his hand. “Sasha home yet?” he asks and you look up at him pained.

Jean doesn’t answer right away. “No, she’s still at soccer.”

“When’s she coming back?”

You can’t believe Eren’s having a conversation with Jean with his fingers buried in your cunt. You pray that Jean doesn’t decide to open the door, but you’re certain he can hear the wet squelching noises as Eren’s hand pumps against you. Your eyes water as your pussy flutters tightly around his fingers when Eren brings you over the edge into another orgasm.

“Uh,” Jean stumbles over his words. “Soon, probably.”

Removing his fingers from inside of you, he pulls his sweats down off his hips to let his hard, aching cock spring free from his pants. He guides it to your entrance and pushes inside you roughly as he says, “Yes, that’s great.”

His voice is tight as he slowly pumps into you and you have to clench your eyes shut and clamp your hand over your mouth to stop your desperate whiny moans from escaping. “Do you need help making dinner?” he calls.

Tears are freely falling from your eyes as Eren rocks his hips against your sore, overstimulated pussy. You can hardly breathe, much less speak - and here he is having a conversation with Jean about dinner like he’s not balls deep inside of you. You would be pissed if he didn’t feel so good.

“No, we’re good.” Jean says sharply and you finally hear his footsteps walking away from outside of your door.

“Do you think he knew?” Eren asks, whispering against your ear as he grinds down into your hips. “Think he knew I had you spread out like this for me like my own little slut?”

Eren loves the way you squeeze around him when he fills you like this. He wishes you wouldn’t muffle your noises for him, he wants to hear you begging for him.

He wants to tease you more until you’re limp and satisfied in his arms, but his cock aches for release and he finds himself spilling into you suddenly without warning. Eren gasps and grunts into your neck when he cums as your body trembles beneath him from exhaustion.

You finally pull your hands away from your face and try to blink up at him. Your eyes are blurry from the tears and your mind is dizzy from arousal, but you can still see Eren’s soft eyes as he looks down at you. 

When he pulls away, both of you are breathing hard. “So how was that?” he asks, pulling out of you and rolling next to you on the bed. He pulls his sweats back up his hips to cover himself as you continue to lay next to him, spread out and covered in each others’ mess.

“Is that how you fuck all of your girlfriends?” you ask, breathless.

“Just the fake ones,” he winks before sitting up. He looks around your room for a box of tissues to clean you up with, finding one on your desk next to some papers and pictures of you and your friends.

His eyes linger over one of the pictures. It’s the same as the one you have set up at your desk at work, the one with Connie, Sasha, and Jean. He comes back over to the bed to clean off your thighs with the tissues as your eyes fall shut, exhausted.

“You still don’t have a picture of me.” He says and you crack an eye open to look at him.

You smile up at him, watching as he gets up off the bed to return your box of tissues before allowing your eyes to flutter shut again. He wanders around your room, opening your dresser drawers until he finds your sweatpant drawer and pulls out a pair to toss over to you. He leaves you to get dressed while he looks around your room. He likes to see pieces of you scattered across the room.

He knows you're taking a couse with Titan to improve your technical knowledge, so he’s not surprised to find your notes and textbooks littered across your desk. He scans your bookshelves to see all sorts of different novels: romance, thriller, even some manga - all scattered amongst more photos of you, Sasha, Connie, and Jean. He knows the four of you were close, he always saw you together at parties and at hockey games, but based on the photos you have in your room, it seems like they’re your only friends. 

When you find the strength, you pull on the sweats that Eren gave you and try to smooth down your hair in the reflection of your mirror near your bed. You look like a fucked out mess, but once your blush comes down you think you’ll be ok.

“What’re you looking at?” you ask, noticing for the first time that Eren’s snooping through your bookshelf. 

“Nothing,” he says quietly, turning back to you. You’re still laying sprawled out on the bed and he almost feels bad for feeling himself stir in his sweatpants as he looks down at you, but then he remembers you’re dating now.

Or fake dating, whatever.

“You ready to go help with dinner? I think you promised Jean we’d help,” you say with a laugh.

“He said not to bother.” Eren pulls his hoodie off and tosses it over to you, leaving him in just his grey sweats and black v-neck shirt. You catch it and look over at Eren, confused. “If we’re dating, you should probably wear some of my shit,” he says, looking away to hide his blush.

With a smile, you pull his hoodie on over your tank. You’re swimming it in and it falls just past your ass, but it’s soft and it smells like vanilla. “Good call,” you say. “Have you done this before?”

“Dated girls? Yeah,” Eren scoffs.

“Right,” you say, feeling your chest tighten. “We should go.”

When the two of you leave your room, Eren ducks into the bathroom to clean himself off, leaving you to wander into the kitchen alone. Jean sees you come in first, eyes narrowing at the oversized black hoodie.

You walk over to the sink and wash you hands, looking over at the two boys on either side of you, chopping vegetables for your dinner tonight. “Sorry, I should have let you guys know he was coming over. We’re going to need more food.”

“Huh?” Connie says, clueless.

“Eren’s going to stay for movie night,” you explain, looking over at him with a smile.

“You’re still fucking him?” Jean asks, voice sharp and tight.

You feel Eren’s arms wrap around you, pulling you tight against his chest. He rests his head on your shoulder as he looks over at Jean, smirking. “More than fucking, Kirstein. We decided to make things official.”

You can’t see the way Jean’s jaw tightens as he looks over at Eren wrapped around you. His whole body flinching when Eren says official. “Oh, is that right?” Jean says through clenched teeth.

Jean definitely seems jealous as he looks at the two of you together and Eren can feel his smirk falter. He knows Jean is a conniving, manipulative fuck-face, and your little fake dating plan might work a lot faster than Eren wants it to. 

He’s not sure how much time he’ll have with you before Jean fucks with your head again.

“Woah, congratulations guys!” Connie cheers, high-fiving you with a huge grin on his face. “Does that mean Eren’s gonna be around all the time?”

“If that’s ok,” you say quickly, wanting to turn to look at Jean but being unable to do so with Eren on your shoulder.

“That’s fine, man, it’s been a while!” Connie says, lightly punching Eren’s shoulder.

Eren pulls away from you and punches Connie back gently, the two falling into easy conversation as they rekindle their friendship from before Eren and Jean’s falling out.

When Eren steps away, you’re finally able to look over at Jean to try to get a read on how he’s feeling. His face is turned away from you, focusing on chopping onions for tonight, but he can see you looking at him from the corner of his eye.

“I thought you weren’t dating,” he says, so quietly that you almost don’t hear him.

“I changed my mind,” you say, glancing over at Connie and Eren to see if they’re paying attention to the two of you. “After getting to know him better, I realized that I have feelings for him.”

It’s a lie, but you can see Jean’s whole body tense from your words.

Tense from the fact that, yet again, you’re running back into the arms of Eren fucking Jaeger. 

It makes you giddy to see such an obvious physical reaction and you almost break out in a grin because of it. Instead, your attention turns to the main door as Sasha walks in with a shriek.

“Eren?” she asks, mouth falling open as her bags drop to the floor.

Eren turns away from his conversation with Connie to smile at Sasha. Her eyes bounce from Eren’s face to his hoodie on you and back again. “Oh my God, are you two together?”

He slings his arm around your shoulder and pulls you tight into his chest, pressing his lips softly against your own as Sasha shrieks again. He pulls away, just enough to brush his nose against your as he looks down at you. Your heart pounds in your chest and you have to look away from his intense gaze, flustered.

“Yeah, Sash,” he says, still looking at you. “We are.”

---

You fall asleep in Eren’s arms during the first movie, exhausted from how you and Eren spent the afternoon. Connie and Sasha all but bombard him with questions when they notice.

“Eren, this is so exciting!” Connie whisper-yells, clapping quietly. “This has been such a long-time coming with you two.”

“I can't believe it!” Sasha squeals, leaning forward across the coffee table to get closer. “She couldn’t get enough of The Eren Jaeger.”

Eren tries to stifle back his laughter as his two goofy friends rattle off at him. It feels good to hear them talk about how happy they are for the two of you, even if he knows it’s all fake on your end.

“I doubt it’s gonna last,” Jean says from the other end of the couch. Sasha and Connie both whip around to scold him as Eren’s narrowed eyes meet Jean’s. 

“How could you say that?” Sasha says angrily, slapping Jean across the chest. “Be supportive of your friends!”

“Ow, Sasha!” Jean flinches from Sasha’s hit, but he doubles down. “Eren’s a fucking prick. You’ve all seen the way he treated the girls at school. He’s just taking advantage of her.”

“I’m taking advantage of her?” Eren growls and you stir in his arms from the rumbling in Eren’s chest.

You blink up at Eren with sleepy eyes as the everyone around you hushes. “Sorry,” you say, voice soft and quiet. “Did I fall asleep?”

“You’re good, babe,” he says, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. When he pulls away he fixes a hard stare on Jean, who’s ignoring everyone around him by focusing on the movie on the tv.

“You guys can go to bed if you want,” Sasha offers. “We’ve got Monday off too, so we can finish the rest of the movies tomorrow night.”

“Ok,” you say sleepliy, allowing Eren to help you up as you shuffle into the bedroom.

Eren closes the door behind you and you flop down onto the bed, facedown. You don’t even bother to take off your clothes, you’re so tired.

“Are you gonna sleep like that?” Eren asks, pulling off his t-shirt and sweats, leaving himself in just his black boxer briefs, before walking over to you on the bed.

“Too tired to change,” you whine, rolling away from him.

He laughs, you were so cute. He never got to see you sleepy like this before. It feels so intimate and domestic to finally see this side of you.

“Come on,” he says, tugging on his hoodie as you whine. “You’ll be more comfy with less clothes.”

“You’re just trying to fuck me again,” you whine, but you allow him to pull his hoodie off of you. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your sweats and pulls them down past your hips and off your feet. He feels the burn of arousal in his stomach after he successfully peels your pants off - he forgot you didn’t have any underwear on underneath.

“I’m… not,” he says, strained. “Unless you want me to.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” you sigh, letting him fix the blankets so you can crawl underneath them. “I’m too tired after today.”

He slides under the covers behind you and pulls you close against his chest. You nuzzle your face into his skin and sigh against it. “Are you drunk?” he asks with a laugh, rubbing soft circles in your back.

“No, just sleepy,” you say, content.

“Can you stay up for a little bit? I wanna talk to you about something.”

You audibly pout but look up at him from where your face is buried in his chest. “It can’t wait until the morning?”

“I don’t want to forget.” He brushes the hair out of your face with his hand and watches as you try to blink away your sleepiness to focus on what he has to say. “I think we need some terms and conditions for this whole, fake dating, thing.”

You chuckle, eyes crinkling. “Ok…? Like what?”

“We have to treat this like a real relationship, so you can’t hook up with any other people, and obviously neither can I.”

“Obviously.”

“We have to hold hands and like, cuddle, and stuff.”

“Easy,” you scoff and it warms his heart.

“We should try to stay together for a decent amount of time,” he says quietly and he hopes you can’t hear the way his heart is threatening to beat out of his chest. “If we break up too soon, Jean might not have fully fallen for you, y’know. So like, six months, I think - at least.”

“Hmm, that’s a good point,” you say with a nod. “I thought you said you didn’t watch the movie, and suddenly now you’re an expert?”

“I’m no expert,” he laughs. “I’m just trying to… maximize our chances for success.”

“Ok,” you hum, burying your face back into his chest. “Any other rules?”

“If you fall in love with me, you have to tell me right away,” he says, voice tight.

You laugh into his chest and wrap your arms around him tighter. “You think I’m going to fall in love with you, Eren Jaeger?”

No, he didn’t think - he hoped.

“You never know,” he hums.

“Ok - deal.” He wonders if you’re going to flip the rule back on him too, but instead you sigh against him. “Can I go to sleep now?”

“Go for it, babe.”

“Goodnight, Eren,” you murmur before drifting off to sleep again.

---

Eren wakes up before you in the morning to find you still curled up against his chest. He wants to stay here with you forever, but the ache in his bladder has him slinking out of bed and down the hall to the bathroom.

Sighing with relief from his now-empty bladder, he wanders into the kitchen for a glass of water but finds Jean already there, grabbing ingredients from the fridge for breakfast.

Eren decides to be civil, “Morning, Jean.”

Jean isn’t, “Fuck you, Jaeger.”

Eren grabs a glass from the cupboard and fills it with water, leaning against the counter to watch Jean prep breakfast as he drinks. 

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Nothing, just drinking water.” He taps on the glass with his finger as Jean scowls at him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I literally just told you.”

“No -- I mean with her.”

Eren smirks as Jean starts cracking eggs into a bowl. He’s sure Jean’s imagining that each one of those eggs is Eren’s face from the way he’s practically smashing them against the counter.

“We’re dating - you know, girlfriend and boyfriend -- are you familiar with the term?”

“Fuck off, Jaeger.”

“You should be nice to me,” Eren says before taking a sip from his water. “Your room is right next door to hers, isn't it? If you're nice to me, maybe I won't keep you up all night."

Jean cringes at his implication. “You’re disgusting. I know you’re just using her for sex.”

“I’m not, actually,” Eren says sharply. “You’d realize that if you ever took your head out of your ass.”

Jean doesn’t bother to respond as he cuts open a packet of bacon. He lays all the strips out on a baking sheet before turning on the oven to pre-heat, all under Eren’s gaze.

“Are you just going to fucking stand there and watch me all morning?”

“That’s a lot of bacon for one person,” Eren responds, eyeing the food as Jean preps it.

“It’s not just for me,” he says with a sigh. “I’m making breakfast for everyone.”

“Me too?”

“Begrudgingly.”

Eren makes a silent face of approval as he watches Jean cut up some potatoes for hashbrowns.

“I make breakfast for everyone on the weekends. Sometimes weekdays too, if I’m not busy,” he explains, cutting into the spuds roughly. “It’s like a tradition here.”

“That’s surprisingly nice of you,” Eren says in disbelief. “You don’t strike me as the type.”

“I want to learn how to get better at cooking - not that I owe you an explanation.”

“Right. Because you were raised with fuckin chefs and butlers, so you’ve never had to cook before,” Eren says, more to himself than to Jean.

The oven makes a noise to signify that it’s reached the selected temperature and Jean slides the baking tray into the oven before setting a timer on his phone. He oils a pan with some butter and tosses the chopped chunks of potato into the pan to fry them.

“Smells good,” Eren says, putting his now-empty glass into the sink. “Can’t wait to try some.”

“Thanks,” Jean spits, but the praise makes him blush, even if it’s from Eren fucking Jaeger.

“I thought you left.”

The attention of the two boys turns to you as you stumble into the kitchen, rubbing at your eyes with the sleeve of Eren’s sweater. Your legs are bare underneath it and Eren wonders if you remembered to put underwear on.

“Nah, babe, I’m still here,” Eren says with a smile. “Just talking with your favourite roomie.”

You approach Eren and wrap your arms around his waist, leaning into his chest as you look over at Jean while he works on the food. “Jean does this every morning,” you explain.

“Yeah, we were just talking about that,” Eren wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you closer against him. He slides his leg between your thighs to gently press his thigh against your clothed cunt - good, you remembered.

You squrim in his arms and push his thigh away from you while Jean works on frying the potatoes. 

“Are you gonna make some coffees for everyone?” Jean asks, his back facing both of you.

“In a minute,” you say, holding Eren tighter. 

Even though this is all a plan to make Jean jealous, you can’t ignore how happy you feel in Eren’s arms like this. Enveloped in the warmth of his hoodie and the smell of his vanilla cologne, it almost feels like you really are dating. 

The two of you stay like that until the timer on Jean’s phone goes off for the bacon. As Jean pulls the bacon out from the oven, you pull away from Eren to make some coffees with your espresso machine.

“I thought I heard the bacon alarm!” Connie says, coming around the corner and into the kitchen. He clasps his hands and rubs them together like a fly as he looks around Jean’s body at the sizzling baking pan in his hands.

“Connie, back off, I’m going to burn you.” Jean says, pushing Connie back with one arm while he sets the hot pan on the unused half of the stove. “Wait until it cools off a bit.”

Connie pouts but obediently goes to sit on the dining room table while he waits for the food. He looks around at the table, confusion etched on his face.

“What’s up?” Eren asks with a nod, noticing Connie’s expression.

“We need another chair for you,” he says, pointing at the four chairs surrounding the table. “We only have enough for us.”

You turn around to look at the table and realize that Connie is right, there’s only four chairs. You never needed any more than that when it was just you and the roommates. “Can you get your gamer chair maybe, just for today?”

Connie nods, getting up to go to his room to retrieve an extra chair while you turn back to work on the coffee.

Eren comes up behind you, grabbing your hips and pulling you flush against his body as he ducks his face into your neck. “You don’t wanna sit on my lap?” he hums, his lips pressing softly into your skin.

“Maybe later,” you say, face blushing as you try to tame the shaking of your hands as you work your espresso machine. “Why don’t you go get some clothes on so you’re not sitting at the table in your underwear?”

Eren laughs and kisses you once on the shoulder, again on your neck, and then softly on your cheek. “Good idea.”

When Eren steps away from you, you release a shaky breath that you didn’t realize you were holding. Being around Eren always made you lightheaded. It was because of the way he touched you, the way he kissed you, and the way he made you feel.

You made fun of all of those other girls from school for falling over themselves to be with him, but here you were doing the exact same thing. How could you not? Eren was enticing. He definitely wasn’t the worst person to be fake dating.

[vinff7]

I have Drugetash AU brain worms, but they won’t fully form enough to make fics so I’m dumping them here.

Idea 1: Durge through Bhalspawn magic or normal sex could have children with Gortash and both were planning to do this. They were not going to get married, Gortash would marry someone else for political empire expansion reasons latter down the line, but Durge and Gortash had both plotted that as part of their take over the world plan they would have children together and those would be their heirs that Gortash would legitimize and just not have children with his actual wife / essentially political puppet.

This idea is courtesy of Dune, I just love the idea of Durge being a consort and Gortash promising to never touch his actual wife and only having kids with Durge.

“I swear to you now that you’ll need no title. That woman over there will be my wife and you but a concubine because this is a political thing. Yet she shall have no more of me then my name. no child of mine, nor touch, nor softness of glance, nor instant of desire.” - quote from Dune that I died thinking of Gortash saying to Durge.

Idea 2: the above is still true but this is a Tav play through so Durge fucking dies. And in this play through Durge and Gortash have known each other for a Loong time, like 10+ years and then Durge dies. Bonus angst points if Durge is pregnant and that is part of why Orin tortures them to death.

Fortunately in idea 2 land it is a Tav/Gortash fix it world so somehow Gortash doesn’t die at the end of the game and Tav has a crush on Gortash, but it’s complicated by the fact that Gortash is still getting over his recently murdered long term lover but has 0 coping skills except insisting that ‘it’s in the past, it doesn’t matter!’ And trying to plow on not even mentioning Durge to Tav if it can be helped.

Triple angst points if it follows many Tav/Gortash things I’ve seen where post Brain the two get married to maintain political stability which brings up angst from the promise Gortash made in Idea 1 about not caring about his marriage partner cuz he would have Durge, but Durge is super dead and Tav is left trying to pick up and puzzle the pieces together.