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jals-stuff · 3 days

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hello my love! If you don't mind I would like to request something for Orter. He and reader are still students in Easton and absolutely despise each other (something like academic rivals) and they ended up having to take care for a magical creature together for a class project during a few weeks! sorry if its a bit confusing, english is not my first language 🥹

good evening darling~

First of all, I would like to apologise because I originally wanted to make something short but it ended up being just a little longer than what I expected...

tl;dr: I'm going to post a second part to this in the next few days if I'm not too taken by my daily life. Please let me know in the comments if you wish to be tagged for part 2!

also i am receiving a lot of requests recently for some reason. thank you for your patience.

word count: 5.7k

warnings: f!reader, i hope you aren't scared of snakes (this one is cute tho), bit of swearing, not proofread

Taking care of it!

Group assignments are, and always have been the worst. The extroverts usually left you with the heaviest workload and you'd just end up doing everything by yourself while they took credit for it. However this time, the assignment wasn't like anything you would've expected.

The teacher was going to pick random students and put them into pairs, and each duo would be given a small wooden box with an egg inside of it.

“These boxes contain mandragora snake eggs. This species hatches into different colours depending on how you take care of them and help them grow.”

The teacher explained and brought two different creatures to her desk. The left one had beautiful and healthy dark green, glossy scales and stunning purple flower patterns with big eyes and seemed extremely docile; it was a rather medium-sized specimen and it looked kind of cute.

But the other one was a completely different creature; an aggressive beast with long, hooked fangs, completely hollow eyes and its scales were an alarmingly fluorescent shade of green with almost no patterns at all. Its scales were in a pitiful state and seemed uncomfortably stony. It kept trying to bite the teacher.

“The left egg has been taken care of perfectly, and is now a healthy, beautiful mandragora snake. The right one however, has absorbed too many negative energies from the ones taking care of it, resulting in… this.”

And just as you started wondering how it was possible to mess a beast up that badly with only negative energy, the teacher called out your name.

“(L/N) (Y/N) and Orter Mádl, come and get your egg as well.”

That couldn't be good, this snake was probably never going to hatch at all. The two of you exchanged an uncomfortable yet similar side eye. Existing in the same classroom as him was already enough of a pain in the neck, and now you had to raise a magical creature together?

Oh boy.

…

You were both sitting in front of this egg now, in absolute silence as none of you knew what to say or do. You had never taken care of a mandragora snake— or any type of pet other than a cat in the past, and surely anyone could guess Orter was not the nurturing type.

“This snake is going to have horrible parents.” You thought out loud, and for the first time, you saw the cold, distant jerk nod. He crossed his arms and looked at it for a while without saying a single word. Just… what was he trying to achieve? Did he think he was going to turn into a mandragora snake expert just by looking at an egg?

The teacher cleared her throat to grab everyone’s attention again and pointed at the blackboard.

“These creatures usually hatch after approximately one week, and they will gain their patterns after one more week, but an unhealthy egg will take longer than that. You must take good care of them until their colours are completely visible. Your schedules have been cleared accordingly so taking care of the little ones should not be an issue for the next month.”

Orter didn’t quite appreciate the idea of spending a month with the likes of you, nurturing and hatching a pet together as if you were some kind of happy little family. He raised his hand.

“Is joint custody allowed?”

“Absolutely not.” The teacher deadpanned at his question and you almost slammed your own face against the desk at how dumb of him that was. After a while, everyone left except the two of you, still staring at the egg.

“That was dumb of you. I’ll be the one to hatch it since you can’t bear to have responsibilities.” You gently pet the egg with one of your fingers. “Isn’t that right, Rivers?” That last part was mumbled as if you were talking to an actual baby, and Orter rolled his eyes.

“Dumb? Should I remind you that your last two brain cells are fighting for third spot?” He mocked, giving you a condescending side eye. “And why are you giving it a name already? It hasn’t even hatched yet.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes and look at him as if he had just asked the most obvious question in existence. He made no commentary about the way you looked at him.

“Since you don't even care enough to give it a name, Rivers will stay in my room. I’ll take good care of it.” You shrugged and very carefully picked the box up, holding it against your chest like an actual child.

“Isn't it supposed to be a two person assignment? How am I supposed to participate if it stays in your room?” He sighed, visibly growing more and more annoyed at your behaviour.

“You can visit if you want, it's not like I do anything other than going to class. Neither do you, I’m assuming.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and stood up from his chair to follow you as you walked to your dorm room. “You’re really going to ignore what the teacher said about joint custody? The snake-”

“Rivers. Its name is Rivers, don't call it ‘the snake’, Orter.” You shot an angry glare at him and he had to physically hold himself back from punching a wall.

“Rivers can't only stay with you.” He sighed as he finally used the name you had given it; a small victory but a victory nonetheless, even though he seemed a little angry at you for being so damn annoying.

“Neither can it keep moving between your room and mine, and I’m pretty sure that's what the teacher meant when she said no joint custody, besides...” You trailed off, looking down at the egg. “I doubt you're the nurturing type, I wouldn't even trust you with watering a plant.”

You giggled mockingly and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, but you were also right, as much as he hated to admit it. He muttered something and walked away in the opposite direction, leaving you alone with the mandragora snake egg in your hands.

You were determined to hatch it, with or without this jerk. Carefully, you placed it upon a cushion on the unoccupied bed in your room that was supposed to belong to your roommate, but she hadn't showed up in literal months, so Rivers was now your priority.

You enveloped the egg in fluffy, soft cloth and looked at it for a bit. Sure, you were the nurturing type… in spirit. How were you supposed to take care of a magical beast you had never even seen before?

None of your books had ever mentioned anything about it and you weren't really studious either unless Orter was about to get better grades, in which case you absolutely had to surpass yourself and crush him completely.

A few hours had passed and you were almost falling asleep, studying how the egg was reacting to sounds and touch. You could feel something move underneath the shell but you couldn't exactly tell what was happening.

It seemed stable, at the very least, but focusing so much and taking notes was draining. However, a knock on your door took you out of your drowsiness. “Come in?”

As you wondered who it could be, you were surprised to see that dear Mr. Mádl had stopped sulking and actually showed up, much to your annoyance. He closed the door and stepped closer to the egg, not even paying attention to you at all, which irritated you slightly.

“What's all this?” You asked as you noticed him holding an uncomfortable amount of handwritten notes. He pushed his glasses back up and finally looked at you.

“I went to the library to research a bit on mandragora snakes.” He stated with his usual emotionless expression. “Unlike you, I can put in some effort.”

Oh, he was getting on your nerves so much after only two minutes spent in your room. It took all of your remaining energy not to kick him out immediately. But for Rivers’ sake, you decided to keep calm.

“Look. I get that you despise me, because in case it wasn't clear, I despise you too. But for the sake of this assignment, can we please quit being passive aggressive?” You sighed softly, trying to calm your bad mood down.

“I’m not the one to blame here.” He shrugged, crossing his arms as he gave you his signature condescending look. “You didn't even research anything about this species, you're not even doing anything right now, and I bet you've been doing nothing for the past hours as well.”

You exhaled softly, feeling the small creature in the egg get a little agitated and trying to stay calm. “I took some notes on its reactions to sounds and such. I believe it can actually sense negative energy.” You handed him your notes and he raised an eyebrow.

“Sounds like bullcrap. It didn't say any of this in the books I read.”

You held your snarky remarks for yourself and shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe the authors didn't think it was necessary. But it's clearly reacting. It also reacted when I sang to it.”

He chuckled, his expression unchanged, and you just knew he was about to say something rude, so you decided to talk before he did. “Anyway, it's good that you did some research.”

Orter raised an eyebrow in suspicion. Surely there had to be something snarky at the end of this sentence and that wasn't all.

“Because..?”

“Because I couldn't have done it while checking its reactions, so it's good.”

The room grew silent quickly and the snake within the egg started to calm down a little. Though Orter didn't seem convinced at all, and still thought you were bullshitting him with this whole reaction thing.

“I still don't see it. Why would you sense reactions and not me? Are you just special that way?” He asked in a mocking tone, and you were getting more frustrated by the second.

“Just touch the egg right now.”

He did. Even without touching it, you could feel the magical beast getting agitated, but it seemed like he didn't. Not one bit.

“There's nothing. You're full of crap, (Y/N). Just say you haven't done anything the whole time, I won't be surprised.” He mocked, but you decided not to bite back. You knew what you had felt earlier and you wouldn't take his criticism for that.

“Whatever you say, Orter. But you'll have to stop acting like that because whether you want to believe me or not, it is reacting.” You sighed softly, wanting to change topics. “So anyway, was there any advice on how to help it hatch correctly?”

He flipped through his notes with his eyebrows raised in contempt, as if you just couldn't do that without him (you couldn't, let's be realistic here) and he stopped on one of the pages.

“They need company, warmth and lightning. I suppose even you can provide that, correct?” He looked up from his notes and you didn't have to look back at him, you knew exactly what kind of expression he had right now.

“I suppose I could.” You sigh softly, already fed up with his behaviour, and you felt the snake get agitated again. As if instinctively, you ran your hand against the shell. “It really doesn't like negative energy…” You muttered, not really towards anyone.

“I really think you're making things up here, otherwise it would've been mentioned in those books.” Orter said, putting his notes back against the bed where the egg was resting. You shrugged again, looking at it pensively, and for once, the snarky sandman didn't say anything.

“It's late… I’ll sleep for now.” You rub your face with your hands and sigh softly once more, then stand up and make your way to your bed. He, on the other hand, doesn't seem to be moving an inch. It's almost like he's trying to catch up with the egg for some reason…

“You could directly tell me to leave, you know?” He adjusts his neck tie as he stands up and turns towards you. You wanted to shoo him, send him flying or something, but you needed this mandragora snake to be healthy and you couldn't afford to do such a thing.

“I’m… tired, is all. Really tired. I wasn't kicking you out.” You muttered, sitting on your bed and looking up at him. Even when he isn't insulting you, he still finds ways to be insufferable.

“..right. I will be here tomorrow morning to ensure you won't be doing anything… dumb with this egg.” He cleared his throat and left without another word. What kind of jerk was he anyway? He'd been especially awful today and you had no idea why.

Maybe tomorrow is going to be better?

You spent most of the night tossing and turning, occasionally glancing at the egg, and it felt like the beast inside of it was mimicking you. Since sleep was evading you, you made your way to the other bed and sat next to the egg, looking at it in exhaustion.

“What's going on in there..?”

As if it was going to reply, yeah. You rubbed your hands against your face and sighed, lazily grabbing Orter’s notes on mandragora snakes and flipping the pages until you found the hatching section.

As insufferable as he was, his notes were flawless and easy to understand. What a pleasant handwriting… you shook your head and kept reading through it until sunrise.

He kept his word and showed up early with a bag full of… something ? He sat on the extra bed close to the egg, and pulled some more cloth out of the bag, as well as cotton and other fluffy materials he placed around it.

“I went and got some more.. warmth for it, since you couldn't do it correctly on your own.” He scoffed, and you just chuckled, not even looking back at it.

“Ahah, thank you, that's really helpful.” You were way too tired to bite back and honestly, he was putting in effort when all you were doing was go with the flow and panic when something happens.

The sn- Rivers seemed pretty stable at the moment, which was surprising considering how agitated it gets whenever… oh.

“I think it likes you,” you looked at Orter, a little amused. “It's been agitated all night and now that you're here, it's just… calm.”

He pushes his glasses back with a neutral expression and looks at it for a bit. “Perhaps it likes me better.”

You groaned slightly at the idea. Even though Orter was the one bringing supplies for it, you were obviously the one caring for it! Making sure it's stable and safe! You stood up and stretched your arms.

“Maybe… since it likes you so much, I’m going to go and get coffee or something, I’m exhausted.” And as soon as you took a step out the door, he called for you.

“Wait, (Y/N), something is wrong, come back.”

You raised an eyebrow and when you stepped back in, you could feel the beast’s agitation, like it was panicking or something. You just sat back and touched it.

“What's happening?”

Nothing. Well, nothing anymore. It just calmed down immediately and went back to being stable. You looked at Orter in confusion and he returned that same look. What was going on with this beast?

“It’s merely a hypothesis, but…” Orter trailed off as he stepped outside of the room and… the beast was still pretty much stable. Sure, it was moving around a little but nothing too critical.

“I think it likes me more.” You muttered, and heard him chuckle dryly and walk away. Did you upset him? That wasn't your intention at all, for once. Laying down and facing the beast, you wondered what was up with it. Why would anyone get such an assignment anyway? It was so much work!

The door opened again around twenty minutes later when Orter came back with a small bag. More supplies? Again?

He reached for the inside and then handed you a cardboard cup. “Umm.. what's that?” You asked in a confused tone and he raised an eyebrow at you like you were the stupidest, silliest little thing he'd ever met.

“What do you think it is? It's coffee, you idiot.” Oh. Oh. Ohh. You grabbed the cup and looked up at him, a bit puzzled. This man really was unpredictable.

“You… got me coffee? But… why ?”

“You said you were exhausted, and apparently you can't leave Rivers for too long, so…” He crossed his arms, and you suddenly felt really weird. Was he being nice to you? It was so odd. Right now, you didn't want to rip his head off or throw him out the window.

“That's… thank you.”

You couldn't say anything else, looking at him with the most disoriented look he'd ever seen before; there was no malice and no anger or frustration in your eyes, just… questions.

“Don't get me wrong,” he sighed softly, “I’m only doing this because I don't want anything weird to happen to it.” He specified, looking straight at you. Could he just not ruin a moment like this?

“It wasn't completely stable when you were gone.” You said, looking at the egg and taking a sip of your coffee. “It's only stable when both of us are here.” You muttered while adding this to your notes, and he made no commentary.

“It gets really agitated at night, even when I’m here.”

Orter cups his chin with his fingers and looks at the egg pensively. “Then I suppose you weren't lying when you said you could… feel it.” He reluctantly admits. “Should I keep it at night and see how it goes?”

You know for sure it's going to be a problem if you try to move the egg, so what to do..?

“I think so… but we can't possibly move it so, I would suggest…” You trailed off, visibly looking for something to say afterwards as you really didn't have a clue what to do, but Orter finished your sentence.

“...for me to sleep in this bed, is that your idea? Really?”

You blinked once. Then twice. Was that your idea? Not really, but after thinking for a while, you would've eventually brought this possibility up.

“Yes, I mean- no. Or, ahh… I guess..? I don't know. I didn't really…”

He sighed loudly and looked down at you with something of a mocking glare, and it suddenly felt really embarrassing. What was embarrassing? The idea of having him sleep in the same room as you, or the fact that he was being so condescending about it and had you stuttering?

“So, you just gave me every possible answer in one sentence…” He mused and crouched to take a closer look at Rivers. “Well, I suppose I can do that. But don't expect me to be nice to you.”

“You don't have to tell me, you ass.” You muttered and his eyes narrowed as he turned towards you.

“It's merely in case you forgot, since your brain looks a little… dysfunctional.” He taunted.

“Oh, you're taking care of my memory now? That's awfully nice of you, Orter.”

“Don't get too used to it, (Y/N).”

You chuckled as an answer and sighed softly, looking at the egg. “Can you hear that, Rivers? The audacity of that man.” You muttered, making sure he could hear you, and he gently pushed you aside to look at the egg.

“Don't listen to her, Rivers. Even you know I’m right.”

Did he just.. talk directly to it for the first time? And to say such a thing, too? You couldn't hold it in anymore and just burst out laughing, pointing your finger towards him, uncontrollably wheezing and giggling.

He looked very startled at first but then a little embarrassed. He slapped your hand away, pretending to be angry but he was just really flustered and had a very faint blush on his face. “Shut up… Hey, hey! Shut it now… Jeez.”

But you weren't exactly laughing at him. It was just very cute that he suddenly decided that it was fine to talk to this egg as long as it was to discredit you, and honestly, how could you not laugh?

Everytime he slapped your hand away, your finger came back to point at him, as if you were accusing him of something. It was really hard to stop laughing and it took you a good while to calm down, only to be greeted by Orter’s pouty expression, something you never thought you'd see.

“Ahh, I’m sorry Orter, I wasn't making fun of you. It was just really cute.” You said before realising what it implied, and it was your turn to be embarrassed. “I mean- cute as in, you know, you're talking to it now… and it's… you know.”

OHHH MY GOD STOP TALKING, SHUT UP! You internally yelled at yourself, and the way he sighed made it seem like he wasn't mad at you. Or was he? At least his flushed expression was gone, much to your disarray.

“Right…” He cleared his throat and crossed his arms as he sighs once more. “I mean… I suppose you are right and Rivers can feel our emotions..”

“..’so let's try to be good parents’ is what you're about to say, isn't it?” You muse, slightly teasing him. “C’mon, say iiiiit.”

“So let's try to… to…” He sighs and turns around, his hand on against his hip as he adjusts his glasses again. “...I’ll get some food, since you can't.” And with that, he immediately steps outside of your room, feeling like… like something. He doesn't know, and he hopes you don't either.

You chuckle to yourself, somehow thinking he's cute when he gets embarrassed. But you remind yourself that he despises you, and that you also despise him… or, well, not that much. Maybe despise wasn't the right word. You just weren't so sure anymore.

Orter, on the other hand, was trying to get this awfully embarrassing moment out of his mind as he walked to the Academy's shop to get some things. However… He didn't know what to buy. He then walked to the counter and looked into the store employee’s eyes very seriously.

“What kind of stuff do girls like to eat?”

He should thank the gods that you weren't there because the way he asked this with a completely straight face and flat voice would've put you to your grave.

While he was at the shop, you were reading his notes and humming slightly to try and soothe the mandragora snake inside the egg. It was working, but it definitely wanted both of you to be here.

You stopped on one of the pages as something caught your attention: “...mandragora snake eggs will drain a parent’s energy to grow, which is why the other parent usually hunts for the family and is in charge of making the nest more comfortable.”

With this, you almost spit out your coffee. Was this the reason why you were so tired yet restless? And also why it was panicking every time you weren't close to it? Putting more thought into it, you also realised something else.

Orter was the one who brought most of the cloth to keep it warm and he had also brought you sustenance so far. The two of you had taken these roles in very seriously without even knowing it. But since you were the one giving energy to it, perhaps…

You sat up and tried concentrating your mana into your hands before touching the soft shell, as if giving it a part of it… And much to your surprise, it seemed like something happened but you couldn't tell what exactly.

After an hour or so, Orter came back to your room only to find you laying down in exhaustion next to the egg, completely drained for some reason. You eyed the bag he was carrying and he just put it next to you.

“I didn't know what you wanted.”

What you wanted? Does that mean..? You sat up and looked inside of it; tons of snacks, candy, pastries and whatnot. You did need sugar right now, and so you immediately grabbed a pack of sweets and opened it.

“You are a lifesaver, Orter.” You sighed as you ate a few sweets, regaining your energy bit by bit. Pointing at the specific paragraph on his notes, you slightly tapped your finger against it.

“That's why I’m so tired, this little rascal has been taking all of my energy.” You muttered, sighing softly as you kept eating more and more sweets. He read the passage, holding his chin.

“And have you tried sending mana directly into the egg?” With your nod, he hummed. “I could try it too.” And so, he put both of his hands against it and tried sending some of his mana into the shell. Neither of you could tell if it worked.

You decided that you needed to take a shower and go to sleep, and as soon as you tried to stand up, your legs gave up from fatigue and you started collapsing, but Orter was quick enough to catch you. “Oh, crap. Are you alright?”

You groaned in frustration and nodded, even though you were completely incapable of standing up again; the sweets were apparently not enough to let you use your legs.

“You've really outdone yourself, haven't you?” He chuckled, and you looked away. He was being awfully nice and you just didn't know how to respond to that type of behaviour, especially coming from him.

He gently lifted you up and put you down on your bed. As embarrassing as it was, you couldn't really have managed otherwise. You were thanking him when your brain just shut down and you fell asleep quickly. He made sure to pull the covers up against you and he sat there for a bit, looking at you.

It was clear he hadn't been very nice at the beginning, and he was now trying his best to atone for that fact. While you rested peacefully, he couldn't help but move some of your hair away from your face and place it gently behind your ear.

From that moment, this is how most of your days went. You'd spend your day giving mana and energy to the egg and Orter would bring you some coffee, water and food, and whenever he was about to sleep, he'd give Rivers some mana as well.

After six days, the egg had grown quite a lot and you weren't sure what size the “little one” was going to be anymore. All you knew was that it was getting more and more tiring to keep feeding it with your energy.

You were laying down, exhausted even though it wasn't that late, and Orter was reading a book on the chair next to your bed. No insults, no snarky remarks had been exchanged since last time, and he was rather helpful to you.

After all, you were the one spending all of your energy on helping Rivers hatch correctly. Most of the time, he had to move you back to your bed because you'd fall asleep while giving it your mana. You could've sworn you felt him touch your face but you could've very well been dreaming… or were you?

The embarrassing question was stuck in your mind now and you couldn't stop thinking about it as you kept giving your mana to the egg. “Should be the last day, right?” You asked quietly, visibly really tired.

Orter closed his book and adjusted his glasses as he looked at you. “Yes. If it's healthy, then it should hatch tomorrow.” His eyes softened just a bit as he looked at you. “Why don't you call it a day? You sound exhausted.”

You sighed softly and moved to the edge of the bed to stand, and he immediately stood up to come and help you. It was… unexpected. You held onto him as if the two of you had never despised each other, ever, and he helped you get to your bed.

As much as you didn't want to admit it, he was really helpful. And since he had stopped being so condescending, it felt quite comforting to have someone sleep in the same room as you, not that you’d ever let him know about this detail. He was also really thoughtful and good at taking care of Rivers, so that was a plus…

In fact, he was rather nice overall. He seemed to remember what your favourite snacks were, and also what kind of coffee you liked, all of this just from studying your expressions carefully as you consumed what he had brought. He really was thoughtful, and since you had started taking care of this mandragora snake egg together, he hadn’t been snarky or mean even once.

“Are you alright?” He asked, looking at you with a hint of worry in his eyes. When you started wondering why he was concerned with you when you felt his hand slightly squeeze yours. Oh. Ah. Ah. You had unwillingly grabbed his hand when you tried to stand up, and hadn’t let go since then. While you were overthinking, he was just looking at you in confusion because you just… wouldn’t let go of his hand.

“O-oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- uh… I was just-...” Ah, it was no use. Your face was slightly flushed with embarrassment and you were trying to stutter your way out of this situation, but no words seemed to come out. You looked up at him and noticed that he was ignoring you. He had grabbed his book again and crossed his legs, reading it while flipping the pages with his free hand.

When he noticed you were talking to him, he just raised both eyebrows, but the gesture did not change his neutral expression. “I don’t need it right now, I don’t mind you keeping it.” And with this, he immediately went back to his book, as if he really didn’t care. The truth was that he just could not look into your eyes right now.

Orter was trying his absolute hardest to conceal the very faint blush on his face while you actually didn’t let go of his hand. Was it because you just wanted to hold it? Or were you just too embarrassed to do anything about it? Or was it both?

Even if you weren’t near it, you could feel some kind of weird vibration— or maybe just an emotion coming from the mandragora snake egg. You couldn’t tell what it was exactly, but it had started as soon as you had grabbed Orter’s hand. Was Rivers absorbing whatever emotion that was too?

That was just too much thinking for you and you decided that the only reasonable course of action was to collapse in bed and stare at the ceiling. That being said, you still hadn’t let go of his hand, and it didn’t seem like you planned on doing it anytime soon because as soon as you closed your eyes, you fell asleep.

He didn’t notice until he closed his book and saw you resting peacefully against the pillow while still holding it. He was about to pull his hand back and let you sleep, but it didn’t look like it was keeping you awake or anything, so he just decided to look at you for a bit, his thumb unconsciously rubbing your palm soothingly.

Sitting on that chair was rather uncomfortable, but he didn’t feel like letting go of your hand, so he was going to bear it anyway until you’d let go by yourself.

…which you didn’t do. You were just resting and holding his hand hostage the whole time.

Approximately two hours after you had fallen asleep, Orter heard a weird noise, something indescribable. As his eyes searched the room for its source, his eyes widened slightly. He turned to you and squeezed your hand. “(Y/N), wake up, hey.” His free hand reached for your shoulder, slightly shaking it.

Your eyes fluttered open slowly and you groaned in frustration. But Orter’s expression looked amused and a little excited, which woke you up immediately. “What’s the matter?” you asked as he chuckled and pointed at the egg.

“It’s hatching!”

Holy shit. You immediately sat up and made your way to the opposite bed as you watched the small snake slowly get out through a hole it had pierced. It then slithered away from the shell and looked at you and Orter, as if it was confused. You couldn’t help but squeal at how cute it looked. It was just a little baby!

You extended a hand and it instinctively moved towards you, then rested in your hand. It was such a precious little creature, you were holding back your tears. “Oh my gods, oh my gods… What are we supposed to do now?” You asked frantically as if in a panic.

Orter immediately flipped through his notes and then reached for a small bag of supplies, taking out a small piece of mandragora root and feeding it to the small snake, watching it greedily bite against it like “chomp!” and swallowing the whole piece.

“So, according to the notes I’ve taken, we can move him now and it doesn’t have to stay warm anymore. I’m assuming it’ll need to stay with us until its patterns start appearing. It also says it might sleep a lot.” He flips through the pages again to see if he hasn’t missed anything.

You thought for a bit. Maybe you could grab one of your scarves and put some cotton and such into it to make a… snake holder? This way you could walk around the academy with Rivers in your scarf and without worrying about it too much.

You had literal stars in your eyes and Orter looked completely lost as soon as he laid eyes upon this beautiful expression of yours while you were holding the small snake.

There was still a whole week left to the assignment, and it felt to him that time was flying awfully fast.

#mashle x reader #orter madl #orter mádl #mashle #orter mádl x reader #orter x reader #orter madl x reader #orter madl x you #mashle magic and muscles

81 notes · View notes

wndaswife · 19 hours

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hi! sorry i keep having dark!mommy!wanda thoughts where she's your parents' neighbor and can't help but notice how most times you're all alone in your house while away from college and keep making yourself useful tending to house chores and offering help to her and other neighbors...

she keeps fantasizing about you and your eagerness to please and how she would use you whenever and she would keep you in bed all day...

she flirts and is very touchy with you but you don't think much of it, you don't really think of her in that way, specially since she's older than you and a divorced mom with joint custody,

during one of her visits to your house she tries to make a move and steals a kiss from your lips and both of you are shocked and you go all red and she can tell you're so so confused but she apologizes and pretends everything is fine and you don't know what to think so you go on with your life, although the kiss keeps replaying in your mind over and over.

one day she finally gets what she wants, she invited you over and all day she's doting and so so sweet and keeps touching you and you feel fuzzy and bubbly and you don't know what's happening until she holds your hands and leads you to her bedroom but you're just so dumbed down that you don't think much of it until you feel her hand in your panties, you try to cling to reason and refuse her advances but by then it's to late, she forces you to look at her while she pumps her fingers into you and orders you to tell her you love it when she's rough and how you want more, to the point where you start to believe it and she goes feral when she sees no thoughts behind your eyes, after you cum on her fingers she lays you on your tummy and spanks you for making a mess of mommy's sheets and makes you apologize over and over again, but you're gushing and your pussy is making the filthiest noices and you keep saying sorry and how you deserve whatever punishment mommy gives and suddenly you're cumming all over again.

Wanda is so proud but pretends to be disappointed and determines that she should fuck such a dirty slut with her strap because you clearly need to be filled, and she makes you say it, beg her to give you her cock because you need it and want to be breed by her, you didn't know such treatment and dirty talk could turn you on so much but you can't really think at the moment and just nod and take it.

Wanda fucks you so rough and slaps you several times asking you to tell her how much you love it and how she's the only one you want and your pussy is hers to use however she wants

Your so broken and dumb and you're cumming so hard you really can't think when she tells you to tell her you love her, and you do, so now that's all you can say and all she wants to hear, you love her, you love her with her cock inside you, you love her when she's spanking you, you love her touches, you love her when she dumbs you down and you love your mommy so much when she fucks you because you know she needs it.

She keeps using you all night and telling you she loves you and how she can't wait to train you to be her perfect little girl and you're exhausted but can't help to nuzzle into your mommy and confess that you don't want to leave her

even as she holds you tight you keep repeating that you love her and she kisses you and gives you her boobs so you can suck her nipples and drift to sleep like that...

(anyways hope you're having a great day 😀)

- rouge

THIS IS SO DEPRIVED OF YOU….. this is soooo detailed

i love how even tho she’s so rough n dark she’s soooo doting and obsessed with you, always calling you such a good girl n all

imagine while she’s fingering u and overstimulating you and having you confess to being a dirty slut, she’s hugging you against her so you can feel mommy close n her face is so close to yours that you can feel her warm breath on your chin while she’s mocking you for whimpering and saying it’s too much and when you call degrade yourself

and the look in her eyes when you can finally open your own to see her needing you so badly, her very gaze just driven mad with desire while she watches you, scrutinizes you, all because she thinks you’re just the sweetest, cutest, most fragile thing

#rae responds #rouge anon #mommy wanda 🧎‍♀️#im sooo sorry for how long this took btw i completely forgot about it until right now

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oxymorayuri · 2 days

Note

Hiii i read the acex reader i dont remember the title but its the one where she was the revolver?

I wanted to request more parts for it please BCS THE WAY U WRITE IT ITS SO CAPTIVATING I CANT

So yes thats all i wanted PLEASE DO CONSIDER 🙏

It will get me through my exams 😔🔫

❞𝐍𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬❝

Part two

If you haven't read the first part yet, you can find it here. ♡♡♡

✦ Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader ✦ Warnings: cussing/language, suggestive content ✦ Spoiler: none

A/N: Aw that is so cute! You know what? Why not? I really fell in love with the revolver too. I had to think of something to continue it but see for yourself, I hope you like it sweetie. PS: I hope everything goes well with your studies <3

wordcount: 2488

! ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ !

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Ivan Imros

Everything before your eyes appears as if you're looking through a curtain. Time passes more slowly, every touch seems both intense and unreal, but you feel the desire.

There is nothing but desire... the thirst for more.

Light as a feather, you feel as if you are not even in control of your body. But that's not a problem. You enjoy every second, no matter how blurred everything seems to you.

Perhaps because you know that it is nothing more than just a desire. Your movements are rhythmic and you try to intensify the feeling with every thrust, but there are limits to how much you can feel.

Your options are small but you are grateful for what is in front of you.

You can dimly see the lust shining in Ace's eyes, while barely feeling his hands on your hips as they guide you into bliss. Your mind is constantly shifting between lucid yet dazed and one moment you are riding him while the next his lips are caressing yours.

Full of pleasure you close your eyes, your voice says 'more' but you don't feel your lips moving and although your eyes are closed, it gets brighter and brighter behind your eyelids…

You groan in annoyance as you pull the covers over your head. Damn that sucks. This isn't the first dream you've had about Ace, but it's never been as intense as this one.

You cannot escape the images of the things that happened between you and you keep dreaming about that night on the beach. A whole week has passed since then and you and Ace are far from what you could have become and whose fault is it?

Yep, yours.

The angry wiggle in bed gets you nowhere, but you are so annoyed by the situation that you have to let it out.

After your fit of rage, you look up at the ceiling of your room in defeat. Slight dark circles adorn your face because it takes half an eternity for your brain to finally shut up. You don't even want to think about Ace and when you are surrounded by complete silence, his face automatically appears before your eyes. You've spent a few nights tossing and turning in your bed because every time you close your eyes you see him. No matter how tired you were, you couldn't get a wink of sleep.

You tousle your hair. Your ego is so big that you would rather die than approach Ace.

You wonder why you reacted the way you did. After your night, you woke up alone in your room and even though you didn't expect him to be lying next to you, you wished for it.

Loneliness engulfed you and as lonely as you felt, the more you didn't want him to get near you. You felt so available and that's a pretty strange feeling for you… Would it have been different if you had woken up next to him?

You'll never know.

As usual you gave him the cold shoulder but this time you had an additional reason... but somehow you feel a bit childish about it now.

Your thoughts are spinning around. What is your reason anyway? The answer seems to secretly pile up inside you and that makes you nervous.

Should you really have reacted like this? You haven't said a single word to each other. Okay, you haven't said a single word to him… At least he tried, you have to give him that, but after 3 days he had given up. He just leaves you alone and doesn't even get on your "nerves" like before. Nothing nada

Somewhat sadly, you pull your knees towards you and put your head down. You can only blame yourself.

You idiot!

If it wasn't for Jozu, you would probably never have come out of your cabin. He actually managed to get you out of the room.

Well, he more or less dragged you out. He just barged into your room, came up to you without saying a word and grabbed you by the neck. You noticed him, but you didn't have the strength in your bones to really react.

Somewhat belatedly you grab him by his bulky arm but every attempt is in vain and when you realized, that he wanted to leave your room with you, all alarm bells rang in your head.

Like a wild animal, you tried to escape from his grip but no matter how much you scratched him or how hard you hissed, he wouldn't budge. You feisty thing. Without paying the slightest attention to you, he brought you onto the deck and although you were brought here rather roughly, he set you down on the ground with care.

"Touch me like that again and…!!!!!" You are caught off guard when your mouth is suddenly covered with tape; you hadn't expected that. You can only grumble in anger and your eyebrows furrow up furiously as you look up at your commander.

"Hah your stare can't do anything to me you stupid ass!" He makes fun of you while he ties your arms and legs and you have no chance to resist.

The big man took a step back as he watched you wobble pathetically back and forth. You try to free yourself because you are beginning to feel that you are in a critical situation.

Your strength returns and the ropes loosen. Jozu doesn't hesitate any longer and immediately ties you up completely from head to toe, which looks ridiculous. Like a mummy, with only your head free, he leaned you against the ship's mast.

From behind you, you hear Ace apparently going through something similar as you and suddenly he is thrown to the ground in front of you by Marco. He wasn't set down as gently as you were, and with a pained look he rubs his cheek, which has just kissed the ground.

"What's wrong with you guys?" Confused, he looks at the men in front of him who just look down at him with stern expressions and folded arms. Jozu's eyes wandered over to you and Ace's eyes followed his. With shock written all over his face, he looked at you with widened eyes.

Without commenting, he looked back at the two commanders and then Marco broke the silence.

"What have you done Ace." Marco's voice seemed a little threatening. Astonishment spread across Ace's face.

"ME?" Startled, he pointed his own finger at his chest. "I have done NOTHING!" He defends himself with a slightly raised voice.

You want to laugh out loud but the tape stops you.

"I don't know what happened between you, but one thing is clear and that is that the two of you have something to sort out!" Jozu lays out the facts.

"You're so wrapped up in your thoughts that you're constantly setting yourself on fire and even if it doesn't hurt you, it's affecting the people around you." His gaze went to you as he noticed your muffled laughter. "And you? We don't even need to talk about you, y/n. But let me refresh your memory. First you shouted at Ace, then you didn't say a word to ANYONE and then you didn't come out of your room for two whole DAYS!!!" The commander breathes in and out, somewhat exhausted.

You weren't even aware that you were behaving outrageously, but now that Jozu has reminded you, you can't deny it. Ace is bothering you and you are bothering him.

Marco touches his forehead, somewhat distraught.

"Listen, if Newgate gets wind of this, he'll talk to you… is that what you want?!" You both shake your heads in panic at the same time.

"I thought so." - "Ace, you were last with y/n that night and she's been so nasty ever since. Did something happen between you?" Jozu interjects.

He exhales a little helplessly and drops his shoulders.

"hahhh, I don't know… I thought we had a good time but the next day everything was different than I thought and that's why I wanted to talk to her to find out what I did wrong!" He turns to you and for the first time you see a look on his face that you never expected to see. He looks angry with a hint of confusion.

"But SHE doesn't want to talk!" he points his finger at you like a child. Offended, you grimace. Luckily, the tape is stuck to your lips because no matter what you would have said, it wouldn't have made any sense anyway. You're so irrational that you don't even recognize yourself.

The two standing men looked at each other and nodded. You and Ace don't quite understand what's happening now, but you'll find out soon enough.

Marco grabbed Ace by the shoulder and led him ahead of him. Ace doesn't really resist and starts to move. When Jozu approached you, you didn't want to leave the stage without a fight. You tried to move like a worm to escape from your commander and even though he admires your efforts, there's no point in trying to escape, because you're just as fast as a worm - not at all. Jozu has an easy time with you and throws you over his shoulder.

The two of them threw you into a prison cell made of sea stone and before they locked the cell, Jozu freed you from your full body bondage. You are glad that your mouth is free again because now you can finally let out all the bad words you have left for Jozu.

"You son of a bitch! Just wait until I'm out of here, then you'll be given a bloody surprise… I'm telling you!"

But you idiot threw yourself against the bars to grab the big man, forgetting that the bars are made of sea stone and that you now have the power of a devil fruit that you still have to get used to.

The energy sapping feeling in your body is sudden, overwhelming and slowly you go down to the ground.

While the men walk away from the cell, Marco shouts something back to you.

"You stay in there until you've sorted this out!" Grinding your teeth, you roll onto your back with the last ounce of your strength and close your eyes.

If I can't see him, then he's not there...

Yeah, exactly, that will work… You don't really believe that, do you?

"Hey… I'll leave you alone if you want, but the others are right. We take it out on the others and that's not okay. We're a crew…" The word crew makes you open your eyes without wanting to.

You sigh in annoyance and roll onto your side so that Ace can stare at your back.

"Yea, maybe. Leave me alone." Your stubbornness is driving Ace crazy, but he doesn't really want you to be like this with each other. Above all, he wants to know why you're like this to him. What did he do wrong?

He's been racking his brains for days about what he could have done or said that upset you so much. He wants to make things better if you would let him.

"If you're not going to talk to me, at least take the bed. Sleeping on the floor won't do you any good." You have no idea what kind of cheap trick that is. Is he trying to get you to sleep in a bed with him? You look back towards the bed but Ace isn't there. He's sitting next to the bed with his back against the wall.

Unexpectedly, disappointment spreads through you. Wait a minute? Is that what you secretly wanted?

A little confused, you stand up and stop in front of Ace, who looks up at you. His unkempt hair falls back slightly as he looks up at you. How you would like to swallow your pride and fall into his arms, but you have no idea where to start. You don't know what to say because you don't even quite understand what is wrong with you. So you say nothing and stare at him with tired eyes as he sits in front of you with one leg bent and his arm resting on his knee.

Ace doesn't quite know how to react, but he's not one to do nothing.

He stands up just a few centimeters away from you and now you are the one looking up at him.

His gaze scans your face for answers that you can't even give yourself.

"What have I done?" he whispers to you. His pained voice tears apart your heart. You didn't know Ace could sound so vulnerable.

"I…, I don't know." you mumble your words, but your gaze remains fixed on Ace.

You have no further answer for Ace and walk towards the bed and lie down with your back to him again.

"Sleeping on the floor won't do you any good…" You repeat Ace's words back to him, feeling less pathetic since he said it first.

You listen closely as you can make out the sound of his feet approaching the bed. His shadow falls on the wall, which you stare at, waiting to see what comes next.

You feel the mattress go down a little and you automatically hold your breath until you can hear your heartbeat.

Ace looks down at your slender figure. His eyes wander over your delicate curves. He would love to stroke your hips until you fall asleep, but he's not sure how far he can go without making a mistake... but he has a feeling that doing nothing would be a mistake too.

He decides to lie down with his chest against your back. Lying on his back doesn't really work, there wouldn't be enough room and back to back would be awkward. He really makes an effort not to touch you unnecessarily. He's already glad that you offered him the bed.

You try to calm down, but Ace's breathing gives you goose bumps on the back of your neck. You pinch your eyes shut and try to concentrate on Ace's warmth, hoping you'll be able to fall asleep soon.

Luckily for you, you quickly find your way to the land of dreams because with Ace behind you, one could say; he's no longer buzzing around in your head...

Stay tuned for the next Part babes <3

➽ Next chapter ( not available yet )

#one piece #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace #one shot ace #ace one piece #portgas ace x you #portgas d ace smut #portgas d ace one piece #ace x you

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heavyhitterheaux · 16 hours

Text

Baby Blues

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

AN: mature topic ahead, mentions of postpartum depression

Synopsis: The two of you are at odds once again, and deep down, Jack knows that there is something wrong with his wife but can't figure out what it is. He makes it his mission to get down to the bottom of it in order to help you.

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

The full fic to this concept

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

You massaged your temples as you sat down on your bed finally able to take a breather. All three babies had been officially home for two months and instead of it getting easier, you felt as if it was getting harder. Jack had been sent to the store by you to get more formula since your milk supply hadn't been that great lately. Probably due to the fact that you were barely eating, but that was another conversation.

The hope was that they would at least sleep for two hours so that you could lay down yourself, but you knew that it probably wouldn’t work out in your favor. You and Jack were still at odds and it would be sometimes awkward with both of you at home with the triplets which was 98% of the time. After almost losing you, that definitely took a toll on him, but the two of you would still argue about unnecessary things that wouldn't matter twenty four hours later.

In your mind you were trying your absolute hardest while trying to recover from having them since it hadn't been anything but easy. At this point, you didn't want to divorce him. Possibly legal separation, but the thought of divorcing him completely had never crossed your mind. Despite what had gone on in your marriage, at the end of the day you still loved him and couldn't see yourself living without him.

The front door opened indicating that Jack was back and you soon heard his footsteps as he made his way upstairs. He peeked in your bedroom and saw you sitting on the bed and staring off into space.

He leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead and you gave him a weak smile.

“You feel okay, today?” He asked as he sat down next to you, but you just shrugged.

“I don't know. I just…” You got quiet and didn’t finish your sentence.

“Baby, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong.” Jack replied as he grabbed your hand to place in his.

“I don't need any help. I'm fine.”

“Y/N, why are we doing this again? You're shutting me out and I'm trying to understand what is happening with my wife.”

“Hmm, so now you want to try and understand? You weren't concerned with how I felt basically the entire year in 2022 so why now?”

“I already apologized for that and I thought we moved past that.”

“Who moved past it? Because I didn't.”

“Why do we ALWAYS do this?” Jack exclaimed while throwing his hands up towards you, but all you did was attempt to put your excuse of hair into a ponytail because you didn’t know the last time you actually brushed it.

“We always don’t do anything, you brought it up so I answered your question.” You fired back while looking at the two mismatched socks on your feet.

“I’m trying here so the least you can do is cut me some slack!”

“Jackman, if this is what you call trying to at least attempt to act like you care about this marriage, this is one hell of a poor job.”

“Here we fucking go. Don’t you think that if I wanted a divorce or to separate from you that I would have done it already?” Jack asked and you could tell he was immediately filled with regret as his eyes went wide and all you did was stare at him.

“There’s still time to go to the courthouse today if that’s your heart’s desire since it’s only eleven in the morning. But let’s be serious I saved your fucking image because come the fuck on, I could have thrown your ass under the bus. No matter how you mistreated me and put your wife, someone that you gave your last name to on the back burner, I still did right by you. As much shit as you did and it wasn’t a secret, it got played out for the entire world to see but yet, I never spoke bad about you ONE TIME. Because as much as you constantly give me headaches, I love you and I do want to save this marriage. But if I’m the only one trying then fuck it. The one thing that really sticks out in my mind is when I actually did fight Anitta and you didn’t even ask me if I was okay, not once. Despite how she had acted towards me ever since she met me. I told you how I felt about her and all you did was ignore me in order to try and boost your career. The career that I helped you create, but whatever.” You simply shrugged your shoulders and tried to walk past Jack, but he caught your wrist and lightly tugged on it.

Deep down, he knew that he had been difficult towards you and it had been hard to process his emotions and Jack did feel some type of way about how he had treated you. He broke the one promise to you when you told him not to ever forget where he came from or the people that helped him get to where he was, but now he had done the exact opposite and the fame had got to his head.

It took him hearing it from his mother to finally realize it

“Y/N…. wait a second.”

All you did was turn to look up at him and let out a deep sigh.

“I promise to do better and do right by you….. And them. I’m sorry I just…. I know for a fact that I have to be better about expressing how I feel towards you and a few months ago, I thought that I was going to lose you forever. Please don’t ever think that I don’t love you because I do. I love you more than life itself and just for the past year I haven’t been the best husband that I could be and want to get back in your good graces and fix this. I’m tired of us fighting and we have three little ones that don’t need to grow up in a dysfunctional household. You know for a fact that divorce would never be an option for me on my end. I was serious when I asked you to marry me at nineteen and I’m still serious now.”

“It’s not just us anymore and they should always be your first thought.” You quietly said as you could hear through the baby monitor that they were awake.

“I’ll…. Go make an appointment with Fatima after I check on them.”

The two of you had been seeing a marriage counselor named Fatima and you could tell that she was genuine and also wanted the best for the two of you.

“That sounds like a good idea.” You quietly answered as you simply hugged yourself in your pink oversized sweater that Jack bought you years ago, not bothering to make eye contact with him.

“We’re going to get through this, baby. One step at a time.” Jack quietly said as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

All you did was nod in response as you sat down on the bed and simply stared off into space.

Jack simply sighed as tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he walked out of your shared bedroom and was on his way to the triplets room when he pulled out his phone to do a quick google search.

He knew that something was wrong.

What are the signs of postpartum depression?

Insomnia.

Fatigue.

Poor appetite.

Mood swings.

Irritability.

As Jack kept reading the symptoms on the list, just about every one of them he had seen in you over the past month and he was kicking himself for not noticing sooner.

You were hurting and he was simply adding to it which was the last thing that he would have ever wanted to do. After checking on the triplets, he would text Fatima and look more into getting you help for this because this had to be the only explanation for what was going on with you. After coming home, you had been so happy and now it seems like a switch went off and you were the complete opposite. Jack quickly wiped away his tears before making his way into the triplets room to see Axel wide awake and staring at him. He quickly picked him up and cuddled him closer to his chest.

“Axel, I have to figure out what's going on with your mother and get her the help that she needs. I want for her to be able to see the three of you grow up, but if she keeps going how she is right now, that might not happen. I'm trying to be a better husband and a good father to you three, but I don't think I'm doing such a good job.” He quietly confessed as he brought him downstairs in order to make a bottle for him.

As he waited for it to heat up, he saw you come into the kitchen and attempted to take Axel from him. But you quickly heard his protests.

“Baby, go lay down. I got them. You're tired.”

“I'm fine. I can feed him.”

“Y/N, please just listen to me. Did you even sleep at all last night? You aren't fine.” Jack asked as you looked away from him and he knew that he had his answer.

“I need for you to rest. Don’t worry about them.”

“But…”

“Please don't argue with me. I know when my wife is tired.”

“Okay.” You quietly said as you made your way back upstairs.

When Jack had woken you up by kissing yojr forehead, it was starting to get dark outside and as you sat up in bed you simply sighed.

“Baby, come on. I ran bath water for you.” Jack didn't wait for a response as he grabbed your hand and led you into the bathroom and began to help you take off your clothes.

You glanced down at your scar across your abdomen and quickly looked away. It was still hard for you to look at seeing that you almost lost your life.

Jack helped you sit down in the bathtub and kissed your cheek and made sure you were settled.

“I'll get some clothes for you to wear and put them out on the bed and I'll order you some food. Wing Stop okay?”

You nodded your head as Jack left the bathroom, but he made sure to keep the door cracked in order to be able to hear you if you needed him. Ten minutes had probably passed before the tears started streaming down your face and they wouldn't stop no matter how hard you tried.

You were trying to stay quiet so that Jack wouldn't hear you, but he did once he had heard a loud sob. He immediately stopped what he was doing to go in the bathroom to check on you and the sight in front of him broke his heart.

“Baby, what's wrong? Why are you crying? Did something happen?”

At this point your knees were to your chest as your head was resting on top of them and your arms were hugging your legs as you continued to sob.

“Jack…” You started to say before letting out another sob.

“Yes? Baby, you're scaring me. Tell me what's wrong.” He asked again as he was now sitting on the side of the tub next to you.

“That's the problem! I don't know! I'm so sad all the time. Why do I feel like this?”

“We're going to get you help. Whatever I have to do I'm going to make sure that my wife is okay.”

“Do you promise?” You asked in a whisper as you turned to look at him.

“I promise. You aren't going to feel like this forever if I have anything to do with it. I want you to get back to being your happy bubbly self. I haven't left your side since you got pregnant and I'm not leaving now. We're going to get through this.” Jack told you as he brushed some of your hair out of your face that had fallen out of the ponytail.

You nodded as Jack grabbed the Mielle shampoo that you used for your hair and began to massage it through your scalp. He didn't even know the last time you had washed it and figured that he would do it for you so that it was one less thing that you had to worry about.

As Jack washed your hair for you and conditioned it, your thoughts were running rampant. The last thing you wanted was to feel like this and you wanted to be the best possible mother to the triplets. You deserved it and they deserved it with as hard as it was bringing them into this world and all that you went through.

After he had rinsed out your hair, he grabbed an old t-shirt to wrap around it in order for it to be able to dry as he helped you out of the bathtub. Once he did and you were facing him, he leaned down to place several kisses on your lips which you gladly accepted.

“I love you and you’re going to be okay. We're going to be okay.” He whispered and you immediately nodded.

“I love you too.”

“Let me help you get dressed so I can finish your hair for you. You want me to blow dry it or let it air dry?”

“Blow dry it, please.”

“The Harlow salon is officially in business.” Jack said and you couldn’t help but to let out a small laugh.

Once Jack had finished your hair for you and putting it up, he made sure that you ate and the two of you were now sitting against the headboard in your bedroom as he was flipping through channels on the TV. You simply went and laid your head on his chest as his arms wrapped around you and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“Thank you for being here for me today.” You quietly said and you hugged him tighter.

“You don't have to thank me. You're my baby and your well being is important to me. I'm always going to make sure that you're okay and I’m sorry that it took me so long to notice.”

“Notice what?”

“That my wife was hurting. You have postpartum depression, baby. I looked it up and you have almost every single symptom.”

“Oh.”

“At least we know now what's wrong and we can do what we need to do in order to get you help. You mean everything to me even though I haven't been the best at showing it. But I'm going to do better for you and them.”

You hadn't even looked up the symptoms of it, but was going to take Jack’s word for it.

“I just want to feel better and be a good mom.”

“You will feel better and you're already a good mom. You just need a little help right now and that's okay. This is more common than you think, but it's not going to be like this forever.”

“What if we have more kids and this happens again?”

“We don't need to worry about that right now. Let's just focus on getting through this first.”

You nodded your head in agreement as you turned your focus to the television and you started hearing small whimpers on the baby monitor. You made a motion to get up and Jack immediately tried to stop you.

“Babe, I can…”

“I got it. You let me rest a little bit and I feel better.”

“Are you sure?”

“Promise. I'm fine. Like you said it won't be like this forever.”

A few months later, you were sitting backstage with the triplets and Jack was due to perform along with a few other artists and he made it up in his mind that he wanted all of you to come with him. Ivy and Autumn were crawling around on their playmat with their toys while Axel was in your arms sleeping as you heard the door open and he walked in.

He leaned down to kiss you while also kissing Axel's forehead as he sat on the floor and both of the girls crawled over to him.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” He asked as he was making faces at Ivy who was laughing.

“We're fine babe for the millionth time.” You responded while laughing and checking the time on your phone.

“Just making sure!” He said as he held up his hands in defense.

Jack made sure to block off a room backstage specifically for you and the triplets. Urban would pop in from time to time to check on you too so that way they wouldn't be overwhelmed with all of the noise. There was a screen in the room so that you along with the babies would be able to watch Jack’s performance.

“Aren't you supposed to be getting dressed?”

“I had to check on my wife and babies first. Yall are my priority. They can wait.”

Just then Urban stuck his head in the door and was looking at the both of you.

“Neelam is going to murder you in the next two minutes if you don't hurry up.”

“Tell her I'm coming!”

“That's what she said.” You muttered before busting out laughing and Jack and Urban just shook their heads at you.

“And you call me the unserious one.”

“But you are!”

“You know this is the first time in a while that I've gotten a genuine smile out of you.” Jack said while getting up and coming to sit next to you.

“And I have you to thank for that.” You said as you adjusted Axel in your arms.

“Just doing my husband duties. We're in this for the long run, baby.”

“And I wouldn't have it any other way.” You replied as Jack leaned down to kiss you, but was interrupted by Axel waking up and giving him a look.

“I… Axel fix your face. Your mom was mine first.” Jack exclaimed as you laughed at the face he was making at Jack.

Axel continued to stare him down before closing his eyes again and laying his head back down.

“You know you can't get mad. He is literally you in a baby's body. But back to what I was saying. You saved me in more ways than one so thank you smush.” You said as you leaned over to kiss him again.

“You're welcome, baby girl. If it's for you I'm going to do it without a second thought.”

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, danivalentine, generationnow, sza, theshaderoom, and 1,592,006 others

y/ninsta: jackharlow said today is the first time in a while that he got a genuine smile out of me, so I had to take a selfie. Postpartum depression is real, and I thank my husband from the bottom of my heart for recognizing what I was going through and that I needed help. I love this life that I get to live with him and my babies 💕

jackharlow: always in your corner, baby. forever and always.

urbanwyatt: SERVING LOOKS 😍😍

danivalentine: jackharlow thank you for taking care of my baby girl. she is so loved by you and everyone else around her. 🥹

saweetie: love you mamas and we always got your back

Comments on this post have been limited

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow angst #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow imagine

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chilschuck · 3 days

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Since you mentioned Mickie, may I request Mickbell with a fem tall-man reader who is super protective of him and Kuro physically (she would be a fighter class I guess, maybe barbarian or something in dnd terms) but kind of clings to him because she is socially anxious and not used to crowds and people? Relying on Mick being the street smart one and trusting his judgement one that?

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ anon this is SUCH a cute idea!!!! i love mick and kuro so much so i definitely wanted to whip something up for you!! i hope this is okay and that you enjoy!! <33

— MICKBELL TOMAS: x fem!tall-man reader

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none, fighter fem!reader & sfw + some love for kuro too! they’re your lil guys <3

꒰ wc: ꒱ 651

✦ lots of love for these two and i love writing for them!! i like to think of you guys as a found family! <3 i hope these are okay!!

✦ The first time you made yourself known as a fighter class, Mickbell immediately knew where he was going to hide during battles from now on. When he (and Kuro, since he made sure to drag him along) found out you were great to hide behind, your protectiveness immediately kicked in.

✦ It didn’t help that you were already protective of both the half-foot and Kuro, always making sure they were safe and out of harm’s way while you did the brunt of the physical work. In awe of just how tough you were when it came to combat, Mick knew he had to get you on his side. (Not that he had to do much work in doing so.)

✦ To say you were smitten with the duo was an understatement. You found yourself clinging to Mickbell when put in any kind of social situation, which would make his chest swell with pride a bit. Especially now that he had both you and Kuro to pick him up and carry him. You were much more cuddly and handsy with him though, which would definitely cause him to sputter out a few flustered words for sure.

✦ Kuro was given lots of attention too. You couldn’t help but want to make sure he was getting enough food like Mick, which he was more than happy about. Giving both of them pats on the head once getting them to safety was routine, and Mick found himself craving more and more of your affections.

✦ Anytime you felt they’d be in danger, you immediately stood your ground, ushering them behind you or even making sure to carry them off to safety like said before. When it came to their wellbeing, you weren’t afraid to crack a few skulls (or other bones, lol.) The rest of Kabru’s party was more than accepting of letting you settle things when it came to your two guys, and grew used to your protectiveness over time.

✦ You knew of Mickbell’s street smarts and past, letting him do most of the talking when it came down to it. It was rather a sight to see when you’d step behind him and Kuro, allowing him to speak for you. When it came to crowds and lots of people, you definitely clung to him, even going as far as to hold him as you walked. (Mickbell didn’t mind this in the least bit. I like to imagine when it comes to you, he’d like to be held and doted on.)

✦ Your height as a tall-man kept you protecting them when needed, but always keeping your guard up. One day, Kabru even pointed out the height difference and relationship, rather amused with it.

— Mick puffed out his chest, hands on his hips in pride. “She and Kuro always have my back! If you think about it, I’m the brains, and they’re like my brawn!”

Despite his words, you couldn’t help but softly giggle, scooping him up after he spoke. You even reached out a hand to Kuro, scratching his head with a sweet smile. “Yeah, you’re my guys. It’s my job to look out for both of you.”

That definitely made him happy, if evident from the rosy glow on his cheeks and even the pleased look on Kuro’s face. You were more than content in fighting tooth and nail for them, making sure they were well aware that you always had them in mind.

✦ You even made sure to sleep beside them, just in case something happened and they needed you. You weren’t worried about Kuro as much as you were about Mickbell, but you had such a soft spot for them both that your protectiveness knew no bounds.

✦ It was safe to say that you had made your own small little family within the party, and both were more than happy with it. (And with you!)

— dividers by @/cafekitsune! <3

#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿#i hope hcs are okay!!!!#feel free to send in a Drabble rq if you’d rather have that!!#i just thought this would be more fun hehe #mickbell tomas x reader #mickbell x reader #dunmeshi x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader

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realisticjupiter · 3 days

Note

Can you do jealous angsty sex with chishiya? And since you are the best chishiya fic writer I want to see how you write it! (Hope that wasn't too much for you) tysm if you do!

ꔫ ⸝⸝ summary: chishiya's afraid of the commitment that comes after admitting your love to someone. but you already knew how he felt, you just wanted him to say it to your face.

ꔫ ⸝⸝ pairing: chishiya x fem!reader

ꔫ ⸝⸝ genre: smut , sorta angsty

ꔫ ⸝⸝ warnings: smut (lol), not anything super

ꔫ ⸝⸝ word count: 856

A/N: I had waiting room by phoebe on repeat when writing this >_<

"He doesn't make you feel as good as I do." Chishiya's sultry breath traveled down your back as you straddled his lap, out of breath and panting for air as he saw you for who you were.

You weren't dating. Not even close of it.

But Chishiya was possessive. Pissed if you'd even look at someone else. He was so confusing to your mind filled with love but none to give. Wondering if he just never wanted to see you happy or was just selfish and kept you to himself without the commitment.

Whatever it was, whatever he wanted to call it, never felt real--but a mask he placed on every day when you touched each other in places you swore no one else ever has.

"Touch me, y/n. Please--god." He moaned in your ear, guiding you hips up and down as you looked at the ceiling with silent moans.

He looked up, noticing your silence with a confused sigh. "Please?" He whispered, watching patiently as you looked back down to him, clearly tired as he was; you both wanting to finish and be done with this daily routine.

He couldn't read your eyes, not even if he wanted to. He was far too deep in the feeling of lust when he looked up at you, his hands giving out and unable to guide you for much longer.

Your breath was heavy coming out of your mouth, a feel of dryness following it. "Tell me you love me, 'Shiya." You managed to whisper through your dry throat, your eyebrows withering when he didn't reply.

He didn't know how to reply to your sudden request, and for a second--directly after the sentence left your mouth, he almost did it without hesitation. And then he hesitated.

Did you know about the times he'd whisper to you when you were asleep? When he'd admit his undying love to you during his only moments of vulnerability?

For a short answer: Yes.

Yes, you did. Every night you kept yourself up to hear his words, to hear his voice crack when he spoke. Sometimes to even feel his smile through them.

"Please? Just this once. Say it to my face, 'Shiya." You begged, eyes glossed over as you moved your body against his after his hands fell limp.

You couldn't read people quite as well as he could. But the confusion, the shock that was in his wide eyes and furrowed brows spoke more than words.

"Tell me." You whispered, barely audible through the sounds of loud breathing and huffs of air.

His mouth opened, silence following that small gesture. He closed it, but opened it once more--this time with words.

"I love you." Chishiya whispered, like a disease he had no cure for. Like the words could stab you once he spoke them, the fear in his eyes when realized they weren't just his feelings, but now sharing them with someone else.

Like a secret you swore to yourself to take to your grave with a knife in your hand, ready to keep that secret like you promised.

And now it was an un-kept secret. A broken promise that he'd surely feel the guilt for moments to come.

You couldn't help but smile after the words left his mouth, your hands traveling to his face to hold him in place. "See, that wasn't so hard." You laughed, feeling his hands travel back to your hips.

His eyes never left yours, now having no words left in his large mind to explain himself or his feelings, except a soft hum, "Mhm."

Your lips touched his without a second thought, moving them together like you could finally let everything you've ever felt for him out.

He pulled away to lean back on the headboard of the bed, Chishiya's eyes finally leaving yours to look down at where your bodies connected.

He lifted his hips up to meet your's halfway, letting the lewd noises of skin slapping skin and your loud moans fill the room with an unexplainable smell of sex.

Repeated words of, 'yes' and 'dont stop', spilling from your lips in a sound of desperation.

His eyes found yours once again, but this time yours were closed. And a realization that you knew he loved you, and truly wanted you, sent him over the edge with a soft moan and plea of your name.

It was quick to send you over the edge too, falling limp into his chest as he kept his movements going until he couldn't anymore. His hands found their way onto your back, softly caressing the soft skin.

"Thank you." Was all you knew what to say, it was all you really could say in that moment. Unable to catch your breath and your mind moving a thousand miles per hour without any knowledge of what was coming and going.

Except the simple fact that Chishiya loved you. You've always known, but now you knew. Knowing he finally admitted it to you while looking in your open eyes.

It was nice, it was peaceful. Because you knew, you loved him too.

reposts and comments are appreciated <3

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emo-trash88 · 22 hours

Note

hiya ! its 🦈 anon

Could I req the male reader x drunk stone but instead its switched? ((oneshot, btw)) stone having to take care of drunk reader 💀

take your time + no pressure! have a good day/noon/evening :)

- 🦈 anon

Yay, I missed youuu! And yes ofc I would love to do that! Also sorry this took so long to post 😭😭

Alcohol Tastes Better Than Tears

Stone x Drunk! Reader

Pronouns: second person, gender neutral

Word count: 575

Tw: Alcohol, vomit

Today sucks. In fact, you've had a terrible day. First you blow the whole robbery on your own, and then you can't even steal an apple to make your friends feel remotely better about how horrible you've done. You've given up on being good at anything at this point.

You look down at your hand, staring at the bottle Stone handed you after the heist. You think he just felt bad and wanted to do something nice? But it honestly made you just feel worse. You feel so terrible that not even alcohol could fix it. Well it wouldn't hurt to try you think to yourself and before you know it you're putting the bottle up to the lips and taking a small sip.

That one sip turned into 2 sips, then 3 sips, then 4. Then that turned into you barely holding an empty bottle and trying to prop yourself up on the wall of whatever building you were next to. Your eyes flutter shut softly, as exhaustion hits you like a fright train with a vendetta.

You wake up to the clatter of a bottle and a male voice going "God...what the hell happened to you?". You force your eyes open and lay your eyes upon...an emo? "Whaa~...?" You say, trying to sit up more properly. All you hear in return is a sigh and a crisp "You're drunk". The man leans down to try to help you up before you push him away. "I dont evin know u" You say, your words slurring very aggressively.

"Oh god...my names Stone, we're...friends." He says, the worst friends looking like it's paining him to say, "I'm taking you back to the others".

That led to him trying to lift you up even slightly, which sounded almost completely impossible because your entire body felt like it was filled with lead. But eventually after you almost falling on your ass several times, he was finally able to force you up and being semi able to walk.

"I feel gross..." You say, leaning against Stone as he leads you through the streets. You hadn't even realized it got this dark. "Please don't vomit on me." He says, and almost on cue, you bed over and vomit. "Bloody hell..." He says, trying to prop you upright and continue to drag you away.

After about an hour of him dragging you after you vomiting (because he has the body strength of a malnourished owl) you both finally reach the alleyway, where he essentially drops you on the ground and you immediately pass out. As he grabs a nearby rag and places it on you, Vinnie leans against a wall. "Stone, is that really a good way to treat your crush?" She says smirking to herself.

He glares at her aggressively before speaking "They're not my crush." he says angrily. He stands upright and looks at her. "I'm just teasing, make sure you don't stay up late lovebirds." she says, the last part barely audible and then walks away.

He sighs and sits down next to your unconscious body, glancing down at you to make sure you're still breathing. Maybe...maybe I should tell them he thinks to himself before looking at the ground and noticing, something on his shoes. "IS THAT FUCKING VOMIT!"

Idk if this is any good, but I hope it is 😭

#ramshackle #stone ramshackle #stone x reader ramshackle #ramshackle x reader #I'm not sure if I portrayed drunkess properly #it's a talent atp

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cilil · 3 days

Text

Day 2 ~ Exploration & New Lands

AN: For day 2 of @silmarillionepistolary. There will be a companion piece to this one, showing Fëanor's reaction to Nerdanel's first letter to him.

𓂃🖋 Characters/pairings: Fëanor x Nerdanel 𓂃🖋 Synopsis: For all these years, Fëanor kept Nerdanel's old letters to him. 𓂃🖋 Warnings: / 𓂃🖋 Oneshot (~600 words) | AO3

From a stack of letters found in a box hidden under the bed of Fëanor Finwion, late High King of the Noldor, decades after his departure from the Undying Lands.

Dear Fëanáro,

I hope you rested and recovered well after our last journey and that you don't mind me writing you like this.

When we parted ways near Tirion, I meant to tell you how much I enjoyed your company and that I would love to travel with you again — or meet up and show you all the projects we talked about, as well as seeing your works — though I must admit that I lost courage in the moment.

I am certain that you are in great company at your father's court and I don't want to overstep any boundaries, but if you feel the same way about the time we spent together, please respond to this letter and let me know where and when we could meet again.

Don't feel pressured, though — if I don't hear back from you I will assume you aren't interested and neither mention this nor bother you again.

I hope you recognised the flower signature — I tried my best to avoid getting you in trouble with your father too soon.

Yours, Nerdanel

Dear Fëanáro,

Thank you so much for the flowers! Their message has been noted as well.

My father has begun wondering what all these letters and flowers are about, but worry not, I haven't told him anything yet. He isn't the most inquisitive or nosy sort either, fortunately for us.

Speaking of that, he will be visiting the halls of Lord Aulë shortly and stay for a while. I think this could be a lovely opportunity for you to visit — I would love to show you my workshop and some of my recent projects. Maybe we will even have time to make something together, if you like.

Let me know if you have time, though you can also visit spontaneously, should that be preferable to you — I am in my workshop all day, every day.

I look forward to seeing you again soon!

Yours truly, Nerdanel

Dearest Fëanáro,

Thank you again for all the materials you brought! It truly wasn't necessary, but you know I always appreciate having something new to work with.

I also want to thank you again for visiting; I cannot remember the last time I had this much fun. You are the best crafting partner I found so far, that I can say for certain, and if you enjoyed yourself as well I would love to repeat this sometime soon.

Father tells me that he will be staying with Lord Aulë a while longer — I take it they got caught up in yet another project or are studying the properties of copper or something of that sort. I almost envy them a bit, I must say, but it matters little when I have my own crafting partner around.

Would you like me to bake something for us next time we meet? I will admit that I am not a master baker or anything, it merely is something I enjoy. Let me know what your favourite treats are, and I shall try my best; I promise the result will at least be edible. And if not I will find a replacement.

See you soon (hopefully)! I am looking forward to it! Nerdanel

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @asianbutnotjapanese @elanna-elrondiel @i-did-not-mean-to @saintstars @urwendii

#silmarillionepistolary #nerdanel #fëanor #feanor #feanor x nerdanel #feanel #house of finwe #silmarillion fanfiction #silm fanfic #silmarillion #cílil writes #my writing

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theragethatisdesire · 9 months

Text

scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!

hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!

beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol

pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader

wc: 9.1k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)

have fun ;)

This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.

“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”

“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.

“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”

“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.

“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”

“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”

You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”

He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.

You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.

You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.

It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.

When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”

“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.

You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”

“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”

You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”

If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.

As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”

“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.

“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.

“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.

“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.

Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.

“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”

“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.

“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”

You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–

“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.

“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”

“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.

“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”

You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.

“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.

The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.

“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.

“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”

The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.

“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.

“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.

Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.

“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”

One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”

Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”

Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”

Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.

“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”

“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.

Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.

You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.

“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.

“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”

“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”

“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”

Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”

“Sasha–”

“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”

“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”

“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.

You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.

Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.

You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?

He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.

“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.

His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–

Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.

The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.

“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.

“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.

Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.

“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”

“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.

Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.

“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”

“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.

A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”

“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”

Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”

“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”

“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.

“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”

“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.

A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.

Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.

“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”

“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”

“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.

He spits directly in Eren’s face.

Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.

“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.

“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.

“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”

You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.

“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.

“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.

He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.

Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.

Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.

“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”

“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.

“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”

No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”

You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.

“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.

Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.

“What the hell was that, Eren?”

He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.

“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”

“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.

“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”

“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.

Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”

“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.

Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”

“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”

Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”

“You’re my–”

“The other thing.”

“I needed you.”

“Again.”

“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”

He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”

“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.

“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”

Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.

“Do you still?”

“Still?”

“Need me.”

You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”

“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”

You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.

“I still need you. Now.”

Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.

“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”

A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.

His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”

You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”

Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.

Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.

Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.

“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.

“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.”

Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.

“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”

Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin.

“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”

“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.

“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”

A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.

“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”

“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.

“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”

Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.

He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.

Eren chuckles. “You need something?”

“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.

“You want me to stop fucking with you?”

“Please, Eren, I need you–”

“That’s all you had to say.”

And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.

Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.

“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.

“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.

“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“I need– fuck– I need more.”

“Magic word?”

“Please, Eren, fuck!”

“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”

Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.

“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it.

“Close?”

“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”

“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”

Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–

“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”

The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.

“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”

He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch.

“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”

Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”

You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”

You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”

Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.

Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.

“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”

“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”

You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.

“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”

“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”

You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.

And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.

“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”

You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.

“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”

“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”

“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.

Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.

You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.

“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”

You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.

Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.

You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.

“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”

“He’s not my-”

“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.

You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”

Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.

“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”

You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.

“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”

“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”

“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.

“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”

You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.

“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.

“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”

You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”

He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.

It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.

“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.

“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”

That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”

“Maybe he wants to apologize.”

Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”

“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.

Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.

“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”

There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.

“I just–”

“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”

You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”

“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”

Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”

“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.

“You might have me there.”

“Better than horseface?”

“Watch it.”

The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”

“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.

“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”

“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.

He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”

#aot x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren x you #eren yaeger x you #eren yeager smut #aot fanfiction #eren jaeger fic #eren jaeger fanfiction

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strawhbrrries · 6 months

Text

Love and Lust

pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader

summary:

warnings: unprotected sex, no foreplay, oral (m receiving), creampie??, female pronouns, whiny mike, whiny reader, switch!mike??, teasing, overstim, hair pulling, nipple pinching, not proofread, porn with no plot

word count: 1.3k words

author’s note: this isn't as needy n whiny as I originally hoped so I hope you guys can forgive me!!! please send requests for what you'd like to see next! very dedicated to @mfdxz because queen has been WAITING for this one

“Please.” He whined in your ear, licking and sucking at any of the skin on your neck that he could reach. “I need you, now.”

“I’m trying, I can’t get your stupid belt unbuckled.” You whined back, sitting up from your position on top of him to try and see the belt buckle better.

“Baby, I am going to cum in my pants if you don’t hurry up.” He relaxed his head against the pillows that lined the headboard, chest rising rapidly as he tried to regulate his breathing.

On normal days when Abby was home you tried to avoid doing anything sexual, but the second Mike had gotten home the atmosphere shifted. He came up behind you in the kitchen, pressing your ass against the hard-on raging in his jeans, trying to slide his hand under the waistband of your sweats. His fingers made it as far as touching your clit before Abby stumbled in asking for more dinner, a small groan only loud enough for the two of you came out.

The clink of the buckle hitting the floor dissipated any frustration you had, your fingers immediately unzipped his jeans and threw them off somewhere on the floor. Today was one of the few days he’d chosen to go commando, both of you were now appreciating this.

You went back to straddling his waist, grinding down against his cock, your wetness causing your underwear to conform to your folds as you slid his cock between them. His breath hitched at the feeling, he turned his head to the side in an attempt to cover his mouth.

“Fuck, baby..” Mike groaned, thrusting his hips upwards in an attempt to create more friction.

“Feel good, Mikey?” You teased, moving down his body to sit in between his legs.

“Baby..” Is all he could muster in response, anything else was lost the second you put the tip of his cock in your mouth.

The feeling of him in your mouth, hard and leaking from the need to fuck you, caused a moan to vibrate around him. He tried to close his legs at the feeling, you hadn’t even done anything and yet it was all too much already. Your hands pushed them back open, taking his cock as far as it could go, your nose was pressing against his pubic bone. You hollowed your cheeks as you pulled off of him, using your tongue to swirl around it as you went.

You climbed back up his body, straddling his waist yet again, and placing your lips against his. The kiss was needy and messy, strings of saliva connecting your chins together. His fingers found your hair, entangling themselves at the base and pulling your head back. He needed you, and he was tired of letting you have that control.

“I said, I needed you, now.” He grunted, nipping at your exposed collarbone.

Mike lifted your shirt and threw it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor, latching onto one of your nipples and rolling the other in between his fingers. You threw your head back at the sensation, trying to hold yourself up against him in an attempt to keep control. Any ounce of control that you had left disappeared when your hair was yanked backwards, causing a loud whimper to leave your mouth and Mike to slap a hand over it.

The sound of Abby shuffling around in her room stopped the two of you in your tracks, the soft padding of her footsteps passed by the bedroom door. You exchanged a look, it was past her bedtime, and he was off to go check on her. Nights when Abby left her room after her initial bedtime meant she’d be more likely to leave more times throughout the night, sometimes she just wasn’t tired and sometimes she just couldn’t sleep, it’s how she worked.

You heard the two of them exchanging muffled words quickly followed by their footsteps back into her room. To save time, in the chance Abby did leave her room again, you threw your underwear into the pile on the floor.

“She needed water.” He mumbled, closing the door and locking it behind him, throwing off the sweats he’d put on in a hurry.

The bed dipped as he climbed up you, kissing his way up your body. His fingers slid between your folds, collecting your wetness and bringing the fingers to your mouth. He tapped your lips, an indicator that he wanted you to open your mouth, and slid his fingers in when you opened them.

“How do you taste, sweet girl? Let me taste.” Mike removed his fingers from your mouth and leaned closer to kiss you, swirling his tongue around yours. “Fuuuck.”

Two fingers swirled at your entrance, pushing in slightly as his other hand covered your mouth just in case. He curled his fingers, brushing against the soft, spongy spot inside of you. Your body jerked against him, whining against his hand.

“Shhh, I’ll take care of you, I promise.” He whispered in your ear, a low groan following behind it as he removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock.

The stretch was wonderful, stinging slightly at the lack of prep but an oh so delicious sting. A small whine escaped his throat, hips stuttering slightly at the feeling of your warm cunt stretching around him. His eyes were squeezed shut, trying to keep himself quiet and to stop himself from cumming so soon. There was just something about having to be quiet and the dire need to fuck you into the mattress was sending him into a spiral, his eyes were just as glazed over as yours were.

His hips thrusted in and out, fingers fumbling around your chest as he searched for your nipples. You brought your hands to your mouth, despite most of your moans and whines getting caught in your throat every time his hips pushed back in, the chance of being caught bringing an overwhelming sense of excitement.

“Baby, fuuck…baby.” Mike moaned, splaying one hand on your stomach and bringing the other to his mouth.

He was holding on by a thread, orgasm threatening to spill all over your insides with every thrust, he’d been waiting for this all day and now that it was finally here he couldn’t even hold on.

“I need to cum..” He whined, leaning over so your knees were against your chest and his mouth was by your ear.

“Inside..” You managed to choke out, keeping one hand on your mouth and digging the other into the skin of his bicep, small moon shaped indents appearing.

After you finished your one word sentence he painted your insides with a low groan, sweaty forehead laying itself in the crook of your neck as he continued to thrust in and out. The over-stimulation was too much but he was determined to get you off, he slithered a hand between your bodies. He drew figure eights over your clit as he continued his thrusting, sucking and licking at the skin of your neck.

“Mikey…Mikey..” Your words were breathy and almost inaudible, all you could think, hear, smell, taste was just Mike.

He was overwhelming your senses in the best way and all you wanted was to live in this blissful state forever, full of him. One more thrust had your mind reeling, body shaking, sharp white pleasure searing through your veins as your orgasm ripped through you. He slapped another hand over your mouth, continuing his thrusts to help work you through your orgasm.

“Mike? What are you doing to her?” Abby asked innocently, standing at the open door that didn’t latch when he thought he locked it.

#maddies fics #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson imagine #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson #fnaf 2023 #steve raglan #five nights at freddys movie #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #fnaf mike #mike schmidt fnaf #michael schmidt #fnaf smut #fnaf #five nights at freddys

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supercutszns · 3 months

Note

Luke x reader where a girl, daughter of Aphrodite, flirts with him and insults the reader, causing her to avoid Luke, but later he manages to find her and confesses that he actually likes them... I don't know if they should already be together or not, but I believe in you!!! you write very well :ooo

Sorry if the idea is bad or you wouldn't want to write something like that, if that's the case please pretend you never read this 🤡🤡🫶

true colours; luke castellan

wc + pairing: 3.6k, luke castellan x child of iris! reader

synopsis: everyone wants luke castellan, including you. curse your mother for getting your hopes up.

warnings: friends to lovers, reader is very insecure, bullying, lee fletcher & will solace cameo!! some angst with a fluffy ending

notes: thank you for the request!! as always this is longer than i anticipated but hope you like it :) i also combined it with another request for a child of iris reader (i also identify as a child of iris sometimes so i lovee writing for them) also i’m pretty sure lee + a lot of parts of this are ooc sorry but i havent read the books in about a year so hopefully everything’s fairly accurate!🌈

You knew this summer would be different because your mother sent her wishes twice as much. On the first day of July, when children flood into Camp Half-Blood like a hive of wild bees, a rainbow always lights up the sky.

This year, there were two.

As a child of Iris you’re technically supposed to be in the Hermes cabin. But your love for art, for music, for fun, has made you a particular favourite of the Apollo cabin. Most of your friends are there. They tolerate you singing in your soft, often unsure voice. They love when you catch sunlight and filter it into prisms of colour on their cabin walls.

You’d probably move in there permanently if it weren’t for Hermes. Or rather, his son.

Over the last few months, in the sticky summer heat, your mother knew you would fall in love.

It's not any surprise you love Luke. Everyone loves Luke. A fact that's becoming more obvious every passing day.

It used to bother you less. You’ve always been his meagre, hopeless friend, never any real competition to these girls. You’d basically taken yourself out of the running and instead decided to pine after him in the very back of your mind. A safe, deluded fantasy that would never happen.

Until recently, where it seems less like a fantasy and more like a terrifying possibility.

Over the past few weeks Luke has gone out of his way to be sweet to you. Or at least you think so. He’s spent extra time talking to you at lunch, laughing at your half-formed jokes almost in earnest. At bonfires he saves you a seat, grabs you a marshmallow on occasion. You even made him a friendship bracelet of sorts—admittedly a little ugly—but he’s never taken it off. Not since the day you gave it to him.

Not to mention helping you last week before the archery competition. His hands lingering over yours as he steadied your bow, the curls of his breath on the back of your neck when he stood behind you.

“Don’t be nervous,” he says, a tinge of mirth in his voice. “You just steady your aim and first is as good as yours.”

(You came in fifteenth.)

You don’t want to say that it’s him weakening your aim, making your pulse beat out of your neck. His nose brushes against the back of your jaw as he leans forward and you smell the pine on his skin. Is this friendly? Is he this close on purpose? Are you delusional?

It’s all you’ve been thinking about these past few days. So when Luke Castellan’s endless admirers come to the forefront of your mind, you feel like all those moments of potential buildup have been ripped away.

“You alright there, sunshine?”

He takes you out of your spiral with a teasing lilt you love. When you look at him, his face is a shimmering warmth, complete with boyish smile.

“Yep,” you reply, trying to ignore the nickname making your insides flutter even though you know he’s saying it ironically.

You’ve always had a gift for identifying colour. It’s the thing you pay attention to most. Something inherited from your mother, you suppose. So you’ve memorized the way Luke’s eyes melt in the sunlight. How his scar blends with his pinking cheeks when it’s hot outside. You never told him, and you probably never will, but you’ve painted him from memory quite a few times in the Apollo cabin—always with the excuse that you were practicing. It's so blatantly obvious you're in love with him there's no point in your friends bringing it up.

The two of you are meandering around camp before dinner, a tradition Luke started early on in the summer. You talk about high points of your day (mostly you) or share nuggets of gossip you’ve heard around camp (mostly him). It's the thing you looked forward to every morning. A time when his words are just for you.

Idle chatter flows as you keep walking. Sometimes your arm brushes his and you have the embarrassing urge to tug yours away. You do your best not to stare at him too long or laugh too loud at his jokes.

“Hey, Castellan!” Someone calls.

Luke’s head turns. Your heart plummets. A beautiful girl, Aphrodite cabin, you think, is heading towards you. She’s all honey-spun hair and dazzling pink lips, and it’s obvious she knows it. You don’t know her name. But Luke does.

They fall into conversation the second she arrives. It’s just greetings, pleasantries, but there’s a coy smile on the girl’s face that betrays any sense of disinterest. “Heard you’re not too keen on pairing up with us for the Chariot Race next week. What gives?” Her tone is pouty and playful as she taps Luke’s shoulder. She side-eyes you, lips curling imperceptibly. “I’m sure you’ll have a better chance with us.”

He lets out a strained chuckle. “Dunno, just thought it was fine to switch it up.”

Just like that, you’re out of the loop again. More of her friends flock after her, and soon Luke is tangled in a whole other world. They’re all glowing with a kind of righteousness you only get when you’re popular. You know Luke has friends, tons of them. He's the leader of the cabin with the most campers. Not to mention assertive and gorgeous. His presence is so inviting it’s a challenge not to fall in love with him.

So you can’t blame this girl, the one that keeps touching his arm and giggling. It’s not like you’ve staked your claim on Luke—no one even knows you exist. As much as you want him to be yours, you know you’ll never stop someone from taking him first. It’s your fatal flaw, you think. Cowardice.

You end up sidelined completely. Watching him swathed in people more charismatic than you plants an ache deep inside you. All your wishful thinking feels sour now, a pipe dream, a bedtime story to help you sleep better. Somehow it hurts more knowing that it’s nobody’s fault but yours. These people can’t be doing this on purpose. It’s just who they are. It’s who you are—always a step behind, always daydreaming. You are your mother’s daughter, after all. Just a prism reflecting everyone around you.

Eventually, one of the boys in the group takes notice of you. He’s not nearly as captivating as Luke is—you don’t find the colours of his eyes hold as much depth. There’s also a haughtiness when he looks at you. He sneers, “What the hell do you have on your face?”

It draws the attention of others in the group. You feel like a naked sculpture in an art gallery. “Uh, what?” You stammer.

Some of them purse their lips. The girl with Luke lets a laugh slip. You’re pretty sure you look like an idiot, waiting there with your brows wrinkled in a daze. Their gazes keep flicking over to your cheek, so your hand flies up there before you can delay any more. When you press your fingers to the side of your face, they come away tacky and pink. Mortification constricts you.

Paint. It’s leftover, half-dried paint. The colour of Luke’s cheeks in the sun.

“Oh,” you say dumbly. It’s drowned by snickers. All you can do is find Luke, the only face you know, and ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?” without sounding too hurt.

You know you failed when your voice comes out wrong and his ebony brows push together. “I thought it looked—”

He never gets to finish because the golden girl laughs a little louder, the pink tones in her face a little darker. “Oh my Gods, you’re that Iris kid that’s always singing, right?” She giggles sharply, cornflower eyes darting between her friends. There’s something in there you can’t quite pick up on, until it flushes the pupils of all her friends, and they all grin with a secret knowledge they want you to see. “You’re, like, really good!” The girl simpers, but her bottom lip pulls between her teeth to soften another laugh.

“Oh, so good!” Another friend piles on.

Their passive-aggressive chuckles start to sound like hail on a window. You shift further away from them. Dirt slides beneath your shoe, and you long to kick up more of it, displace yourself, disappear.

You don’t look at Luke. The giggly, flaxen girl has already turned back to him, and you’re sure he’s enthralled once more. You try to stir up the image of Luke’s closeness during archery practice, the lilac bruise on his knuckles when he angled your bow, but it doesn’t take. Now, it feels like you’ve dreamed it.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Luke leaning down to catch a whisper from the Aphrodite girl’s ear. The boy that first commented on your cheek leans closer to you again. He’s suffocatingly smug when he grins, “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you go … wash that off? You don’t want to look like that at dinner.” He snorts. “For an Iris kid, you really aren’t good at taking a message.”

If you were a more confident person, maybe you’d point out how that didn’t really make sense, or how stupid it sounded coming out of his mouth. But the sentiment of it wounds you, and you’re weak enough as is.

"Guess you're right," you mumble. You wipe your face of paint as you leave. The memory of Luke’s skin stains you until you wash your hands off in the sink.

You haven’t talked to him since.

It’s been a few days of you avoiding him, and it’s hard to explain to anyone why you’ve been doing it. How do you tell the truth? Luke Castellan is a work of art and you are … a weird doodle, or something. Despite your adoration, you know there’s no reason he should feel the same for you. Everyone loves him for a reason. Everyone must ignore you for one, too.

“Why haven’t you been talking to Luke?”

The question breaks your concentrated silence in the Apollo cabin. You’ve been sitting here for a while now, humming to yourself over a mostly blank canvas. The cabin is dusted with a lilac haze, thanks to your manipulation of the light streaming through the windows. Helps you feel less like you’re at camp and more like you’re in a fairytale.

“Helloooo, lady, I asked you a question.”

You begrudgingly look up. Lee Fletcher, head of the Apollo cabin, is at the mouth of the cabin, gazing at all your supplies strewn about the floor like they’re a bunch of unsavoury substances. “It looks like a hurricane came in here. Now why aren’t you talking to Luke?”

“How do you know I’m not talking to him?” You mutter as Lee sits beside you.

“Uh, because you’ve been sleeping here multiple nights in a row and you never do that. And you don’t sit with him at dinner. And whenever we see him you drag me in the other direction—”

“Lee!”

“I’m just saying, you should probably talk about it. My beautiful voice can heal wounds, yes, but not of the heart.” He splays a hand across his chest in mock theatrics.

You don’t say anything. The familiar weight of the brush against your fingertips is far more comforting than trying to talk, so you busy yourself with your canvas again. “He waits for you, you know,” Lee continues, quieter. “In the morning. And before dinner. He always asks if you’re here.”

“Oh,” you say, and your wavering voice betrays your expression. But you think of everyone else at camp, their gleaming smiles and their celebrated parents, their own cabins and friends and dreams, how you don’t seem to have any of those. You think of the girl whispering in Luke’s ear. All her shades of beauty. You know it’s wrong to compare yourself, to be jealous. You’re just … sad.

The cabin darkens from a lilac to an imperceptibly gloomier shade. A blue sort of longing gets caught in your throat, blurring the colours on your canvas. But you keep your brush steady, focused on the scratch of its bristles so you don’t have to hear what you say next.

“I think I love him, Lee.” And then, “But I don’t think he loves me.”

There’s no sound except the scraping of your brush when it’s run out of paint, and a sniffle when a tear rolls down your cheek.

“Oh,” Lee fills the silence the way you did just moments before. Then he says your name, laced with pity, and hugs you on the floor of his lavender cabin.

“You want to help me lead the bonfire song tonight?” He asks after a minute. “Or at least … come to the bonfire song?”

“No to the first, yes to the second.”

You wish you said no to both.

The spot you choose after dinner is right next to the fire so you can distract yourself with the golden flecks of flame. Fire is so fluid, so complex, from a colour perspective. But no matter how close you get, the searing warmth can’t hide Luke’s gaze peering over the embers.

He will not. Stop. Looking at you.

The singing from the Apollo kids usually soothes you but tonight it’s just making you anxious. All this attention so close to you. Will Solace has been sitting next to you this whole time, your unofficial assigned companion for the night thanks to Lee. One of his siblings beckons him over, and he shoots you an apologetic look, hesitating. "Just go," you wave off kindly. "It's all good." He's not entirely convinced, and you aren't either, but he squeezes your shoulder with thanks and leaves you anyway.

Now you’re acutely aware the space next to you is wide open. And so is Luke, it seems. There’s an awkward moment where your gazes slide over each other and he weaves out of his current crowd towards you. So you do the most mature, sound thing you could possibly do in this situation:

You say you have to go to the bathroom to no one in particular and get out of there.

It’s dark, but you’ve got sharper eyes than most. Soon the noise of the campfire is behind you. You traipse through the camp towards the bathroom,but you don’t get far before you hear something that makes your stomach drop in the worst and best way.

Luke, calling your name.

At first you think you can get away with not hearing him. Then he calls a second, a third, a fourth time, punctuated with, “Come on, I know you can hear me, can you just turn around?”

He’s got longer legs than you so the next time he speaks it’s practically in your ear. “Hey, just look at me. Please. I want to talk to you.”

There’s something so tender in his voice that it makes you cave immediately. But you already feel so fragile, you can feel the tears behind your eyes. You know you won’t have the strength to talk to him.

His hand curls gently around your wrist and it sends warmth all the way up your arm. He says your name again, softer, and you love the way it sounds. You can’t meet his eyes, but you already know what he looks like. Even in the dark you picture him crystal clear.

“Look at me,” he repeats. “I just—I need to know what I did wrong.”

His dark eyes are full and apprehensive when you heed him. You notice how much you’ve missed studying his face—the slight bunch of his brows, the tensing in his jaw. And you almost delude yourself that he’s missed you just as much, the way he squeezes your wrist and rakes over your expression.

“Why are you ignoring me?” He asks.

“I’m not—”

“You are. I know you. Just tell me why.”

He looks so sweet, so earnest, and it kills you. You think of the way he looked when all his friends made fun of you. It all comes up before you can help it.

“Do you always let me walk around looking like an idiot?” You ask bitingly, staring at the floor. “The thing, with the paint on my cheek—why didn’t you tell me? I looked so stupid and all your friends just laughed at me!”

His face falls. “I tried to tell you, I thought—”

“It’s okay to say you don’t like me, or that you’re embarrassed, or whatever, but I …” You swallow, tears thick on your lower lashes. “Everyone makes fun of me. I don’t know why you don’t.”

“Because I do like you,” he states, hand moving up to your forearm.

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You’re so much … better, you know you are, and I don’t want your pity, or your spare time. I just—I made something up in my head that wasn’t there and I only noticed it the other day after you talked to that girl and that guy made fun of me and I’m really, really sorry—”

“It looked cute. I was trying to say I didn’t tell you about the paint because I thought it was cute.”

There’s a lull.

“What?” You blink stupidly.

“I know I should’ve told you about it, but I swear I was going to before dinner, I didn’t think we’d run into anyone before then.” His cheeks tinge red. “I had this whole dumb thing planned out where I’d wipe it off your cheek and tell you how cute it was once you got embarassed. I was waiting to tell you. I was thinking about it the whole time.”

His hand on your arm is a frighteningly grounding thing. You're dumbstruck by that alone. Your lips part, but all that comes out is, “Why?”

A gentle laugh tumbles out of his throat. “Why do you think?”

His other hand comes up to brush your cheekbone, where the paint had been, and you can imagine him doing it to you on that day. How you'd probably react just the way he said you would, the way you are now. A warm orange glow blooming in your chest. “But the girl—”

“She tried whispering to me how much she liked my bracelet,” he smiles fondly. “Told her you made it for me. It shut her up. I don’t know what that guy said to you but I chewed ‘em all out the second you left. They knew I wasn’t happy. I tried looking for you but you were gone. I don't like them, you know."

You don’t know what to say. It’s too difficult, too uncertain for you to jump the gun on this. So you just stare at all the shifting colours on his face as he moves closer to you. All this time going over his every detail, and there's still more to be enthralled by.

“I found the paintings,” he says, voice so close you can feel it brushing your skin. “The ones of me. I was looking for you in the Apollo cabin a week ago and you left one out. I knew it was yours because ... I mean, there’s no one in the world that can make me look that … beautiful.”

The last word is apprehensive but it’s spoken with an unimaginable tenderness. He looks a little teary himself. You think you’re dreaming. “I knew I had to tell you after that. I’ve been trying to tell you. But you started pulling away from me so I thought I was making it all up.”

“Tell me what?” It’s a ghost of a question between you, an impossible thing, but the hand on your arm slips around to your back and he presses it there with such certainty.

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” He cocks his head, but you nod. “I’m in love with you, I think.”

The words cascade over you in ribbons of warmth. Your brain feels fuzzy, seperate from the rest of your body. Your mouth opens multiple times but you can’t seem to control what comes out. “Luke, are you joking?”

“Not even a little.”

“But you’ve got so many other—”

“I want you.”

“I am literally the most incompetent person alive; I can’t sing, I can’t talk to people, I have a weird knee—”

"Your knee is fine!"

"I'm just saying, this makes no sense from an outsider perspective, it's—"

“Okay, clearly the telling thing isn’t working so I guess I’m just gonna have to kiss you.”

It happens so quickly you don’t have any time to think (probably for the better). You let out a surprised “oh” before his mouth silences you, stopping every other thought. He’s gentle, thumb still rubbing your cheekbone, other hand still firm at your waist. You want to panic—where should you put your hands? How do you know you’re doing this right? But he steadies you, the way he always does, and you give in.

He starts to smile against your lips. You’re almost positive the intensity of your heartbeat could summon a storm. When he pulls away, he kisses the corners of your mouth and you think you’re going to evaporate. “I don’t think I’m very good at this,” you whisper.

“You’re perfect.” He grins a little when your hands tentatively tug at a curl on the nape of his neck. “And none of that stuff you say is true. I mean, you’re definitely a better singer than me.”

Leaning close to your ear, he warbles out a song you know but gets the words horribly wrong anyways. You can’t help but laugh. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”

He hums and chuckles with you. You swear the moon gets brighter when he wraps his arms around your waist to kiss the side of your face. “Next time you paint me, I want to be there when you do it.”

You blush harder than you ever have in your life. “Only if you try painting me,” you say quietly.

“Of course. You’re very pretty, so I’m sure my horrible artistic skills won’t even make you look bad.”

Luke lets you press your face into the crook of his neck. You soak it up for all it’s worth.

In the morning, you wake up in the same position. Your nose tucked against his collarbone, the shade of pink you love freckled across his cheeks. You can't wait to paint him again.

When you look out the window, you say a silent, grateful prayer to your mother.

She's given you two more rainbows.

#perrie’s fics #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #charlie bushnell #perrie's requests #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo fic #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fluff #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo tv show #heroes of olympus #percy jackson

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