#i'm feeling a little salty tonight

[chalkrevelations]

I recently read with my own two eyes someone being protective over Button Pete, saying that Vegas belonged in jail, and all I could think was, “And all these other Mafia-ass motherfuckers don’t?”

What even. The only person on this show who doesn’t belong in jail is Chay, and that’s probably because he’s only, like, five years old and hasn’t graduated to murder yet. I’m sure Kim’s gonna be a stellar influence, though. And yes, I’m including kitchen auntie and spa auntie and weapon auntie in my assessment that everyone belongs in jail. Stop feeding and massaging and arming mafia goons if you don’t want to be an accessory to CRIME. Also, YES. I absolutely believe there’s at least one body somewhere in that yard that Tankhun put there. He’s not as helpless as he’s got everyone - except maybe his brothers, and almost certainly Vegas - believing he is.

Oh, wait. Maybe he didn’t put any bodies in the yard. He probably fed them to Elizabeth and Sebastian.

ANYWAY.

#LISTEN #modifying a stolen tag: #you come into my house and accuse my problematic fave of the one thing EVERYONE is guilty of? #this one's for you vegaspete nation #i'm not even sure i should put this in the main fandom tag #because it's halfway a shitpost that probably doesn't need the wider audience #... #nah fuck it #be gay do crime #vegas theerapanyakul #and maybe a little bit #tankhun theerapanyakul #i do accuse him of murder after all #vegaspete #kinnporsche #how we feeling vegaspete nation? #i'm feeling a little salty tonight

[for-the-ninth]

happy Friday! For a pairing of your choice, "Kiss me like I'm a conviction; beg for divinity in my breath." from the Salvation lyric prompts!

@dadrunkwriting (THANK you I had a lot of fun writing this prompt!!) So I have no idea what the artist intended, but that entire song reads dominance & submission to me, so that's what I wrote!! I'm sure there are plenty of fics out there where Cullen is submissive but there are wayyyyyy too many of him being all suave and dominant, and no shade to any of y'all if you wrote one and you're reading this but uhhhh this man lives and dies by the will of the Maker - you think he's not *primed* for service? LMAO sorry sorry ANYWAY this is not explicitly sexual but if D/s themes make you uncomfy you may wanna skip this one!! xoxo __ It was all part of the routine now. She came home, and he kneeled at her feet. It didn't matter what he was doing, whether she spoke to him or not, whether he really wanted to or not (though he always wanted to). No matter what time she arrived, he was ready to be of service.

Cullen lived for service. Once upon a time, he'd thought the Maker his calling. Now, it was Shielan. In her, he saw his purpose. In serving her, he found strength, and solace. She knew him at his worst and stayed. She knew he could do better, and forced his hand. Andraste herself couldn't hold such power over him.

So he kneeled. In dutiful silence, he unlaced her boots and washed her feet, unassuming. Perhaps she would allow him to gaze upon her; perhaps she wouldn't. He focused on the tension in her legs, and relished the way it melted under his gentle touch. She sighed, and he smiled. The only feeling better than knowing exactly what she needed was that of giving it to her.

"Look at me," she said. And he did. "How does it feel to be right where you belong?"

Glorious. Beyond compare. Nearly indescribable, for she'd asked the same question once before and he'd let his mouth hang open, entirely unable to describe it.

"Right," he said. "It just feels...right."

"Good." She stared down at him, her expression one of steel, save for the softness at the corners of her mouth. "I plan on keeping you there."

#normally my little preambles are like #more put together than this #but uhhh i'm stoned and also it's been like a year since i've written for this so i'm HYPED #sorry in advance folks i am ON ONE tonight #dadwc prompts #already did one prompt about cullen getting executed so if anyone's feeling salty about that pls direct them here lmfao #see? the lord giveth and taketh #it's me #i'm the lord in this scenario

[saltygilmores]

Send Me Gilmore Girls Asks please. I'll answer em.

#or any kind of asks I'm just feeling needy tonight #a girl can have a little neediness #as a treat #gilmore girls #ask salty stuff #Salty has been sick for over a week

[pretty-little-mind33]

Cold As You

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: You want your boyfriend's attention again.

Genre: Hurt & comfort (angsty fr)

Warnings: James is an asshole in the beginning, relationship problems (happy ending!), mentions of fighting and jealousy, crying, sexual harassment/non-consensual kissing, swearing (a lot)

"Wait, James! I'm sorry," you shout but James doesn't listen as he harshly pulls his arm away from you when you try to hold onto the sleeve of his jumper. Salty tears brim your eyes as you mutter, "Please, Jamie. You have to understand."

You almost bump into him when he stops dead in his tracks. "Understand? What is there to understand?" he states in a whisper, his voice uncharacteristically calm for someone that's so very clearly furious. It scares you. Your chest feels tight as he turns around and when thunder crackles in the sky, you jump.

"He touched you," Pain taints his voice and your eyes soften, "Rosier had his dirty hands all over you and you didn't even try to stop him."

You shake your head and your hands move to hold his cheek but he turns his head away, "I didn't want him to touch me! I s-swear," you try to explain desperately, "I just, I just wanted you to see me and — " You start but James interrupts you,

"Y/n, how can you say I don't see you? I love you! You're the only thing I see."

You feel like you're slowly losing your mind, "Then why don't you show it anymore?" Thunder claps again and rain hits your skin like small knives. You don't dare make a move as you remain frozen under your boyfriend's harsh stare.

"I show you I love you plenty," he defends.

You feel exhausted and your words come out jumbled, "No, you don't. I almost never see you anymore and tonight you spent all evening with your friends. I-I wore this stupid dress for you," You show him your dress and he looks at you with round, frustrated, eyes, "And you couldn't even compliment me."

James runs a hand in his damp hair and tugs at his curls in frustration, "I tell you you're beautiful all the damn time." He insists and you shake your head furiously.

"You haven't complimented me in weeks!"

James doesn't move and you can almost see inside his mind. He's thinking hard. "I haven't?" he asks slowly, genuinely trying to understand and remember.

You turn from him a little, tears pricking at your eyes. You close them, trying to erase what had happened at the party earlier. The music, the dancing, Rosier's lips against your ear, his hand on your arm,

"I can make him jealous, you know."

You had jumped, the drink in your hand almost falling to the floor. Evan held your hand and smirked his infamous smirk. "What?" you asked, your voice small as it's drowned out by the music.

Evan pursed his lips and ran a hand in his hair. "Your boyfriend," he said with venom and glanced at James. James, who was across the room with his friends, laughing loudly with his arm swung around Sirius's shoulder. You had blushed, a familiar pit forming in your stomach. You grasped your dress as Evan continued, "I can help you make him jealous."

In a moment of weakness, you looked at him and asked, "How?"

And then his body was pressing yours against the wall. Stunned, you didn't have the time to process what was happening as Evan's hand swept up your side and he whispered, "Let me show you how gorgeous you look tonight, Y/n," his voice was smooth as honey but his teeth nipped at your neck.

You made a small gasp when his lips found the corner of your mouth and just as your hands touched his chest to push him away, he's yanked away by his collar. James looked furious as he punched Evan and the party came to a sudden halt.

"She wanted me, mate," Evan said through a busted lip and, judging by the guilty look on his face, James believed him. James hadn't said a word to you as he dropped Evan and stormed outside. You ran after him, desperate.

Your eyes open and a tear slides down your cheek as you answer James, "No. You haven't. Not in a while. You barely even make time in your busy schedule to make conversation with me. I-If you don't want me anymore, you can tell me and," your voice is trembling and you have trouble finishing your sentence, "and w-we can break up."

James's entire face drains of color hearing you and his eyes widen. His hands shake as they find your cheeks and he moves in closer.

He looks you over, his lip trembling. "I'm so sorry," his voice is a mere whisper as he continues to look at you. You can see his mind racing, his eyes moving quickly over you as he searches your skin. "Y/n, did he hurt you? Rosier — did he hurt you?"

James leans his forehead on yours when you shake your head no. "Shit, baby, I'm such an idiot," he sounds desperate as his hands sweep up your arms and he looks at your body. "You're so stunning, Y/n. So beautiful all the fucking time. I'm so fucking sorry, love. I don't want to break up with you, that's the last thing I would ever want. I can't lose you."

You're overwhelmed by all kinds of emotions as you whisper, "Then why have you been ignoring me? Am I not enough for you anymore?"

James shushes you as he pets your soaked hair and gently guides your head to look up at him. He moves hair away from your face. "Don't say that. Please. You did nothing wrong. It's my fault. I have been so busy lately with school and Quidditch and – fuck – it never occurred to me that I was losing you. I took you for granted, love," he admits, caressing your cheek, "You're so sweet and kind to me I didn't even know something was wrong. I'm so sorry."

You don't want to forgive him and still, you subconsciously find yourself leaning into his touch. As much as you want to despise him for what he did, you love him more than you could ever hate him and James sees this. He holds your cheek and he strokes his calloused thumb against your skin. "You should be mad at me, love. I fucking deserve it," he says sadly.

"I just don't understand why you would think I wanted Rosier to kiss me," You admit, your voice small. James's heart tightens in his chest and tears brim in his eyes. He doesn't think you can hate him more than he hates himself at this moment.

"I don't know, Y/n," he admits, "I don't know what I was thinking but I- I should have listened to you," he whispers, looking down and you can tell he's replaying the moment Rosier crushed you against the wall over and over again in his head.

"Bloody hell, I'm a shit boyfriend. Some guy forces himself onto you and the first thing I do is blame you," he sounds angry with himself and you can tell even if you reassure him, he won't excuse himself so easily.

"It's okay," you try anyway but James quickly presses his finger to your lips.

"Shh, no. It isn't okay," he says, his eyes stern and he leans his forehead on yours. "I don't fucking deserve your forgiveness," his hand hovers over your form, afraid to touch you but silently pleading with his eyes for you to let him.

You nod and his fingers skim the satin of your dress. "I love you," James says. His hand touches your waist and then gently slides up your ribs. "I love you. I love you. I love you," he continues in a mantra as his lips press to your ear and you let out a sigh. You melt into his touch and his mantra changes, "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. Shit, baby, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," You try and whisper again but this time his lips find yours to silence you. You're surprised but when James pulls away to make sure you're okay with him kissing you after everything, you squeeze your eyes shut and chase his lips. James's hands move up and hold your cheeks as he kisses you again.

The kiss is delicate and mixed with both anger and sadness. Your anger and his, his sadness and yours, as well as an abundance of soul crushing love. Jame's hand slides down to hold yours and he disconnects your lips. "How can I make it up to you?" he asks seriously, looking into your eyes.

"What?" your eyebrows crease.

James repeats his question without complaints, "How can I make this better? I want to show you how much I care."

You search his face and he looks determined. A smile tugs at your lips. "Oh, um," you think for a moment, "just don't do it again? Please don't forget me again." James's heart shatters again and he's convinced all he has left in his chest are sharp shards that will cut into him for the rest of his life.

"Never, baby, never," he promises as he presses a kiss to your forehead. "What else? What else, love?" James sounds desperate at this point.

You pull away and stare into his eyes. "Listen," you start and his stomach turns as sweat beads at his forehead, mixing with the raindrops. His mind starts to spin as he thinks of what you could say.

I think this isn't working. I can't look past this. I don't love you anymore, not after what you did.

"I'm not looking to punish you for what happened, I just want to move forward," you pause and James hangs on your every word. "I love you and I can tell you're really sorry. I know you, and I know you won't do it again." James nods his head, agreeing, and caresses your cheek, "That's enough for me."

You kiss his lips and then smile at him and James is sure his heart will explode from happiness. The rain finally slows as he listens to your words and in a breathless whisper he vows to never do anything like this again.

And he never does.

#james potter x reader #james potter #marauders #james potter fluff #james potter smut #marauders fic #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter x you #marauders imagine #james potter imagines #james potter imagine #james potter drabble #james potter fic #james potter x y/n #mauraders #maraduers harry potter #marauders imagines #hp marauders #hp fanfic #marauders harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #j #harry potter #marauder james potter #marauders fanfiction

[russellsppttemplates]

Charles cooking for the kids and they are not the biggest fan of his cooking

"Mama isn't home?", Hervé asked as Charles parked the car in the garage, the spot where you parked your car empty.

"She's having dinner with her friends", Charles explained. As much as he loved spending time with his family in their own bubble, he would be lying if he said that he wasn't looking forward to having his kids' undivided attention on him for the night.

"We might get lucky tonight, maybe she left something made already for us", Hervé mumbled as he got out of the car, "might not be that bad after all", Amélie completed his sentence as she hopped off her seat while Charles carried Thomas up on his hip, walking up to stairs and letting the kids get comfortable in house clothes while he prepared their snacks.

"Do you have any homework, Hervé?", he asked as he cut up some fruit, waiting on the toaster to jump so he could add the bread to their plates.

"No, Ms. Rouvière said we had been well-behaved today, so we didn't get any", your son said as he sat on the stool, making silly faces and playing with Thomas and his building blocks.

"I'm very hungry!", Amélie ran inside the kitchen, sitting on the stool and waiting for her plate as Charles distributed them, "are you, amour? I have this here, and if you want more, let me know and I'll make it. I just don't want you to waste food, that's all", Charles smiled as he kissed the top of her head.

When dinner time came around, Charles had the kids set the table and patiently wait for him to bring the pots and pans to the table, "do you think the pasta will be hard like last time?", Amélie asked her older brother, "I heard mama tell him to leave it longer in the stove", Hervé reasoned, "maybe he did listen to her this time".

"It looks okay... I guess", Amélie added, seeing the pasta on the pot before looking at the giggly Thomas on his high chair, "at least you get the soup mama made for you", she shrugged. Amélie almost always joined you in the kitchen when you batch cooked soup for your little one. Because it made your routine easier, you would often make a big batch and store it in single servings so meal time for Thomas would be easy and you could do it without a hitch everyday.

Granted, the pasta bolognese wasn't the best they've had, but the pasta was considered al dente and the meat wasn't too flavourful, but better that last time where it was too salty.

"It's a good thing papa always let's us have two rounds of dessert", Amélie giggled as Hervé gathered the plates to leave them at the spot on the table where you usually sat, "maybe mama will bring some leftovers", he smiled.

When you got home, the two older kids were first to greet you, "Hi mama!", they said, "Papa is upstairs putting Thomas to sleep", Amélie offered as she looked for something. "You didn't bring anything from the restaurant?", she asked, "no, amour. I ate the last slice of cheesecake they had for the night actually", you said, quirked brow at her question, "did papa not cook the pasta again properly?", you chuckled.

"It was okay, didn't taste of much, but better than tasting bad, I guess", Hervé shrugged his shoulders much like you had done.

"Amour, you're back!", Charles announced his presence, kissing your lips, "did you have a good dinner?", he asked.

"It was good, but I must say I'm feeling peckish, maybe some cookies would be nice", you pouted, prompting him to get them for you.

"This is just once, okay?", you tutted to both kids as they nodded, asserting that eventually you'd have to leave something for them next time you had dinner out without them and Charles was the one in charge of the food.

(Thank you for your submission ✨️)

#charles leclerc blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

[anantaru]

DAY 24 — BRAT TAMING

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — kazuha, alhaitham

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, brat taming, they're mean lmao, petnames used: love, smart girl, oral (male! receiving), cockwarming

𖧡 — KAZUHA

coruscating with a hot prickle underneath your cheeks and your arousal oozing out of you, kazuha wastes no time before he pulls your mouth back into his lower area with your lips open wide to receive his pulsating cock again— more so feel it stick and melt to your tongue so sinfully as you drag the roughness of your wet muscle against the underside of his dick, tickling the buzzing veins.

"i— ah, hardly notice anything," kazuha admits bluntly and chuckles as his fingers comp over the back of your head, "you need to try harder, i fear," what a distinguished way your boyfriend had with words, which, in any other case he does but not now, not when he was attempting to teach you a lesson.

and you reach in between his thighs at his blatant sentence, to properly take his balls in your warm palm— giving him two good squeezes as he instantly swallows back a groan at the harsh treatment you added onto him, being aware that he was exceptionally sensitive right there.

well, granted, this entire ordeal was placed on you for a reason— because sometimes you just cannot help yourself but be a little, mean brat to your handsome boyfriend, until his habitual and subdued personality gets spiked up with a dangerous notion affiliated with lust, desire, and the clear thought of putting you in your place.

"maybe if you, fuck— wouldn't have been so mean, my love," kazuha pauses, roughly curving his palms against your cheeks so he could softly brush his thumbs over the skin, breathing out a whispery moan when he could feel himself shallowly slip in and out of your hot mouth, "i wouldn't have to use such words on you."

you whine in attempt to spell out a witty comeback but are only being crowded with his fat tip grazing over the back of your throat— you hiccup and babble, perceiving him entirely, his slightly bitter taste penetrating your nostrils as your body grew to smell like his luscious fragrance.

kazuha shifts in his seat a little before pushing his hips up your flexed throat to catch you off guard— yet, little does he realize at last, when he fucks your throat and uses your mouth as he pleases, with your saliva and his pre dribbling all over your chin and his boxers, that in reality, you will never stop engaging in this sort of play and be all about the drama, so perfect when you act like a little brat, so kazuha could use your mouth again, no need to urge you on for anything when you're practically salivating at the taste of his salty cum on your tongue.

𖧡 — ALHAITHAM

"don't flatter yourself too much, i'm not even fully hard yet,"

whenever you were acting out— attempting to push and pull against alhaitham's usual stoic and unbothered demeanor, you are most likely defeated right away, yet do not be mistaken because, the moment you do achieve to, quote on quote, step onto the wrong tile, he almost needs to profess the power he held over you.

you take a sharp intake of air before exhaling it out with a tremble the moment he first sinks into you— although much to your surprise, he wouldn't move, he wouldn't even kiss you, only focusing on your sizzling hole swallowing him in like a wet suction pulling on his shaft.

"hey!" you whine, before slipping your hands around his neck so you could kiss him yourself, only to be met with alhaitham quickly turning his head so you'd clumsily hit his ear instead, "w-what's up with you?"

it's in a juncture like this where everything suddenly comes crashing down on your complete frame and holds you hostage against your will, the split second you can remember it in a spur of a moment, vividly, when you were oh so graciously disturbing his peace earlier, just because you felt like it.

"i'm not moving tonight," he proclaims, a little aloof and standoffish but holding your gaze with unapproachable eyes before he repeatedly slaps the plush flesh of your ass, making you squeak out.

"you do it yourself," alhaitham wasn't really interested in a heart-wrecking apology from you, truthfully, he had already planned out and structured how this night would end, obviously in his favor because you cannot beat him— he stops when you're begging him, full of brimming tears, to make you please please cum because you just cannot hold it in anymore!

"i can't," you attempt to move your hips but are being met with one large hand pinning you back down the mattress.

alhaitham was torturing you, that's what it was, at least in your eyes, and you dig into his scalp and ruffle his hair, aiming to make him kiss you again (and failing) before scraping your nails around his ears, where he was a little sensitive, yet not even that worked out so you ultimately go down to his neck— your lips curved up into a sweet and apologetic pout, hoping he'd show mercy tonight.

"okay, i'm sorry, i went to far, i'm sorry sorry sorry.." you mewl out in a frantic exhale, the heaviness of his throbbing erection melting within your walls was maddening, and it hurt, a mild pain battering your pulsing cunt as your pussy flutters greedily around his girth, wishing to chance his mind.

alhaitham noticed how you were glistening all over his dick, he feels how your cunt squeezes him experimentally too, but it's more than just wanting you to please him tonight and make it about him, which in actuality, the scribe didn't give a single damn about his pleasure— but it's about obedience, just how it's found in dogs following their owner, and instead of using words, he uses his thick cock stretching you out until you're whining and loosing all of your witty responses, both of you fusing and becoming one.

but that agonizingly sizzling tension in between your squished bodies, ugh, it was surrounding you, your soul and mind, it was beginning to simply steal your breath away.

"but you're such a smart girl, right? always having a comeback to everything, so try harder."

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #kazuha x reader #kazuha smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #al haitham x reader #al haitham smut #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles #kinktober #alhaitham x you #heizou x you

[wh1msic4alwasab1]

𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫 ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

synopsis: while gaming with your friends who live in your dorm, someone suggests something a little cynical and humiliating for the loser to do

tags: explicit, vulgar, m@sterbation on cam, 3some, penetration, oral

wrd cnt: 1.2k

a/n: repost/rewrite! (continuation)

The normal night for you and your friends after a brutual day of calculus was a quick game of whatever the three of you decided that night...and quick was a few hours.

The three of you lived in the same building, but it was more convenient to just game together on call.

Tonight it was rounds and rounds of "poker night 2".

"Can you hurry it up?" Scara says, waiting on Xiao

"You know..unlike you I actually look at my cards" Xiao replies, rolling his eyes in the webcam and smiling when he hears you chuckle.

"All I'm saying is, I didn't win for nothing last round."

"Beginners luck" You say, raising your eyebrows in question of his skill, earning a scoff from Scara.

The game went on for a while, and the three of you had the usual banter and laughter, which made the comments ahead a little... questionable.

"Xiao…...I swear to you if you win this round I'm going to bed and blocking you."

"Wanna bet on it, dick?"

"Of course you're thinking about dick" Scars jokes, in a mockerish tone making you burst out into laughter.

"You think about jerking off more than what's for lunch."

"So that's the bet tonight??" You say, not expecting what Xiao would say next.

"What so loser has to jerk off for the world to see?" Xiao says, the light of the monitor screen reflecting into his eyes in his dark room, as he waits for a joke in response.

"I'm down." You say, hearing Scara slightly sigh out a deep breath before agreeing alone with you.

Suddenly a game of poker had a lot more riding on it than some fake money.

Of course, in ironic fashion Scara is in a loosing streak and cursing loudly at every terrible hand that follows his incredible bluffs.

"I can hear you from the fucking CEILING. Calm down..." Xiao says.

It was down to either you or Xiao, Scara losing considerably already, so at least you saved yourself the embarrassment of losing the bet.

It was your turn at this point, and you decided to go all in; with a straight flush. No way you weren't going to win.

Xiao, in the lead, didn't need to win, he just needed you to lose.

You were confident in your choice....until you saw Scaras cards.

A royal, fucking, flush.

"Fuck" you breathe out. You saw your character icon drop down down to the number "0". Game over for you.

“You don’t have to actually y/n- it was just a joke.” Xiao mentions.

“Fuck off”, you yell, your competitive nature acting before thinking.

You dropped your pants and spread your legs over the arm rests, each leg on either side as you groaned in annoyance at your loss.

"Uh oh...someone's not so happy huh?"

"Shut the hell up..." You say, defeated and salty, so close to winning. "I-I won't let you win again you know...this is just a one time thing" You manage to spit out, deep sighs leaving your body as only your chest and below is left in frame, your fingers visibly rubbing your hard nipples through your tank top as you begin to pinch and rub your clit, before fingering yourself with only your panties to cover your pussy.

"Fuck..." Xiao whispers, barely making its way to your ears as his palm covered the lower half of your face.

"Heh....what a bunch of whores the two of you..." You say, whimpering as the sounds of your slick coating your fingers becomes more and more apparent, your throat pitching higher as you gasp and moan for release, hearing Xiao and Scaras voices get deeper with groans, the sound of them pumping their cocks to the sight of you and your arousal.

Was was meant to be just a joke was your downfall.

Soon after, you see the boxes that would be Scara and Xiaos names and faces turn to black, leaving you feeling guilty and really fucking desperate, did you do something wrong?

You didn't know what would come next, they were your only friends on campus after all.

Minutes that felt like hours passed, and a furious knock returned at the door, almost startling due to how vulnerable you were right now.

"Y/n...it's us." You heard from beyond the wall.

Familiar voices which made you even more nervous as you open the door, Xiao and Scara leaning their bodies against the door frame with animalistic looks plastered upon their countenance, cheeks blushed and eyes set low.

"What's wrong..." You asked, letting them slowly enter your room, dimly lit with just the computer screen illuminating the space that they'd seen just from the other side.

"What do you think?" Scara says, his hand finding your waist as he pushes you aside to close the door now behind you, pressing you against it.

"Tell us this is what you want to…isn't it?" Xiao says, his face so close to yours you're practically sharing the same breathes of air, feeling his warm hand on your side of your neck as he spoke.

It took you 2 good minutes of convincing with a makeout against the door and you were so easily stripped, and layed into bed, and in such vulgar positions.

Scara holding your hips behind him, and Xiao next to your head.

They already knew how they were going to fuck you, Scara, imaging it as he saw how you pleasured yourself; on your hands and knees with your ass in the air would give him a good look of his cock sinking into your tight little hole; the one you were riding on call.

Your hands gripped your own sheets tighter until your knuckles were lightened from how slowly he started to push his thick cock inside of you. Scara groaned, smacking a hand across your ass before reaching his hand down to rub your clit in circles like he watched you do on call.

"You like that? It looked so sexy when you did it for us. Made me so fucking hard..." He'd spout, feeling your cunt clench around him.

"I'm here too you know" Xiao says, his thumb toying with your bottom lip before it parts your mouth open, the tip of his cock allowed itself in as muffled moans from how Scara thrusted into you vibrate around his length, making him groan and throw his head back; pinching and tugging at your perky nipples from under you all the while.

"Fuck..you have suck a nice mouth y/n...."

"Don't get me started on her pussy..." Scara groaned, one hand gripping your hip with the other was wrapped in his hair, keeping it back as he fucked you so deep and full.

"You'll take me next, right y/n?" Xiao cried, his eye brows furrowed as he looks down to see your mouth wrapped around him, wet sounds of your pussy and the drool around his cock making sinful noises in symphony.

"Fuck fuck fuck....can I come inside y/n...please-god it’s too much”.

Scara groans, seconds away from painting your pussy white, looking to Xiao for your confirmation.

You urgently nod, needing to feel his cum inside you.

That's exactly what you got.

With one last thrust Scara held your hips close to his, emptying out his balls into you as Xiao did the same. Cum dripping out of your cunt and more going down your throat, both the men breathlessly grunting, pleasure taken over all three of you.

Maybe losing wasn't so bad after all?

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

#jo’s posts #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #xiao #xiao smut #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut #xiao x reader #scara x reader

[3vergr3en]

A/N: I'm blushing over roommate Geto with mutual pinning 🤧 also, I've been having huge writers block rn 😓

“Whatever you’re cooking smells delicious.” You emphasize at the end, slowly dragging your hand across his broad, muscular shoulders as you shuffled behind the latter till you situated yourself beside him. “It should since I’m making your favorite tonight,” Geto replies with a small smile, knowing the expression that’s soon to be shown on your complexion any second now. 

You gasp, a broad smile spread across your face before punching the taller in the bicep. But to Geto, it was merely a soft nudge. “Beef curry?” You question excitedly, even when you know the answer. “Mhm. Here, taste this.” He scoops a bit of curry from the pan and into the spoon, softly blowing onto it to cool it down. “Let me know if it’s too salty or too sweet.” He raises it to your lips with his other hand placed right below the silverware to catch any fallings. 

“I can do it myself, y’know?” You couldn’t help but blush as the male urged the spoon closer to your lips. “But little Ms. y/n loves getting her princess treatment.” He responds, tapping the tip of the spoon against your bottom lip. You roll your eyes at him, pushing past the feeling of your heart fluttering. 

You part your lips enough for Geto to push the spoon into your mouth. You close your lips around it, catching the curry onto your tongue before pulling your head back and allowing the spoon to slip out. 

“Good girl.”

You nearly choke. 

You watch as he waits in anticipation. You swallow the curry, momentarily closing your eyes before letting out a small moan of approval, “Sugu’, this is so good.”

He can’t ignore the twitch in his cock at your moan, but he smiles warmly at you in response. He raises his thumb to your lips, wiping away the excess curry at the corner of your mouth before licking the pad of his finger clean. You look up to see him gazing down at you. Calm down, Y/n. But you can’t when you swear you caught him glancing down at your lips. But you are as guilty when you do the same. He slowly leans down, inching his lips closer to yours. You hold your breath in anticipation, leaning in as well. 

#suguru geto #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #geto smut #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk geto #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk headcanons #jjk imagines #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu geto #jjk suguru

[pockettwinzz]

7 Minutes In Heaven - S.JK

౨ৎsynopsis౨ৎ : Seven minutes in heaven with your annoying enemy; how would it go...

౨ৎwarnings౨ৎ : MDNI, Smut, blowjob, oral[m!receiving], unprotected sex[naurr],

౨ৎauthor's Note౨ৎ : So this was supposed to be released after my Heeseung fic but dumbass mfing tumblr didn't save my draft so i'm gonna have to re-write some scenes :( will be uploading it asap!!!! dividers by @dollywons

౨ৎwc౨ৎ : 1.6k

Jake and I had never really talked much since freshman year. Anytime we'd try to talk we'd end up arguing about something. Everyone in college knows about it by now.

Tonight, we're at a camping trip with some of our mutual friends. As the night progresses, they drag us into playing truth or dare. When it's my turn, the idiot who's supposed to be my friend dares me to do something insane. "Y/N, you have to spend seven minutes in heaven with Jake."

I groan, not wanting to do this at all. But I have to, or I'll look like a chicken. So, with a sigh, I agree to it. I close my eyes and feel Jake's warm breath on my neck as we're led into the room. I can't help but feel a little bit nervous.

I said to Jake, my voice shaking slightly. "So umm what are we supposed to do?I mean, we could just… talk, I guess?"

Jake scoffs. "I don't want to talk to you. But if you insist…" He pulls me closer, his body pressed against mine. His hands slide up my shirt, sending shivers down my spine. "We could do other things," he whispers, his breath hot against my ear.

My heart skips a beat. I'm not sure if I should be angry or aroused by this. Jake's touch feels so good, so foreign. He reaches around, unhooking my bra with ease, before tossing it aside. His fingers trace circles around my nipple, making me gasp.

I want to hate this, but my body betrays me. It wants more.

I arch my back, pressing myself against his touch. "Jake…," I breathe out, my voice husky. He smirks, leaning in to capture my lips in a heated kiss. His tongue dances with mine, sending a jolt of desire through my entire body. His hand finds its way down my shorts, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric, teasing.

I moan into his kiss, feeling myself grow wetter by the second. I want him to touch me there, to make me feel good. I break away from the kiss, gasping for air, and reach down to unfasten his pants. My fingers brush against his hardness, and I'm taken aback by how big he is. I've never been with anyone this big before.

Jake helps me pull his pants down, revealing his boxer briefs. I reach for the waistband, but he stops me, pushing my hand aside. "Let me take care of that," he says, his voice husky. With practiced movements, he pulls down his underwear, freeing his erection.

He steps back, giving me a moment to take in his fully exposed body. I'm mesmerized by the sight of him, hard and ready for me. He's so confident, so sure of himself. It's almost intimidating. But at the same time, it's incredibly arousing.

I reach out, tentatively touching the tip of his cock. He lets out a shuddering breath, and I feel the heat emanating from his body. His eyes are locked on mine as I stroke him, slowly at first, but then faster, matching the rhythm of my own heartbeat.

He grabs my hand, guiding it, showing me how he likes it. I can feel the veins pulsing beneath his skin, the taut muscles quivering with each touch. His hips begin to move in time with my strokes.

"That's it, baby," he groans. "You're doing so good."

I lean forward, taking him into my mouth. His tip presses against the back of my throat, and I gag a little. He reaches down, wrapping his hand around my hair, guiding me. "Just take it slow, sweetheart. Let me feel you around me."

I obey, sucking gently at first and then harder as I get the hang of it. His hips buck against my face, and I can taste the precum on my tongue. It's salty and sweet, and I can't help but want more. I stroke him with my tongue, feeling the veins pulsing beneath his skin. He moans, the vibrations sending shivers down my spine.

His hand tangles in my hair, holding me in place as he thrusts deeper. "Fuck, that's it," he groans. "You're so good at that." His cock twitches in my mouth, and a warm, thick fluid fills my mouth. I swallow quickly, feeling it trickle down my throat.

He pulls me up, grabbing my ass in his hands, and pushes me back against the wall. His hips begin to move, his cock thrusting against my lips. I open wider, taking him deeper, feeling the head of his cock brush against my entrance. He growls, his hips stuttering, and then he's inside me.

I let out a moan as he fills me, feeling him stretch me, claim me. He begins to move, his hips slamming into mine in a furious rhythm. I can feel the strength in him, the power that he has over me. He grips my shoulders, his fingers digging into my skin as he takes control of our encounter.

My head falls back against the wall, and I let out a gasp as he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside me. His thrusts grow deeper, harder, and I can feel myself beginning to lose control. I reach up, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him down for a bruising kiss.

He groans into the kiss, his hips stuttering against mine as he tries to maintain his rhythm. I can feel the strength in his arms, the way they hold me up, the way they keep me close. He's so big, so powerful, and yet he's gentle with me, almost tender.

His thrusts become more erratic, more urgent. I can feel the tension building in him, the way his breath comes in ragged gasps. I want to make him feel good, want him to let go, so I arch my back, pressing myself deeper against his hips. His cock hits my sweet spot, and he cries out, his body tense as he comes inside me.

He holds me close, his strength steadying me as I feel the aftershocks of his release. His hips slow, but he doesn't pull out. He leans in, kissing my neck, my jaw, my lips. His skin is warm against mine, and I can feel the softness of his hair against my cheek.

"You feel so good," he murmurs, his voice raspy with desire. "So tight, so hot." His hips begin to move again, the friction between us growing more intense with each thrust. He groans, the vibrations traveling up my spine and making my toes curl.

His fingers dance over my skin, tracing patterns that send shivers through my body. He finds my sensitive bundle of nerves, and his touch is electric. "God, I love how you respond to me," he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear.

I lean into his touch, my hips meeting his rhythm. The friction between us grows more intense, more demanding. I can feel myself growing wetter, hotter. His cock strokes my inner walls, finding that perfect spot that drives me wild.

He groans, his breath hot against my neck. "You're so fucking amazing," he whispers, his fingers digging into my hips. "I could feel you tighten around me, feel you get wetter." His hips thrust harder, faster, his cock hitting deep inside me with each thrust.

I was crying out his name as a shudder runs through me. His touch is so gentle, so tender, it's almost too much to bear. He finds my clit with his thumb, circling it expertly, driving me wild. I grip his shoulders, digging my nails into his skin as I feel the pressure building, the need growing more urgent.

"J-jake….. I'm close.." I manage to choke out, my body trembling under his touch. His thrusts grow faster, harder, each one pushing me closer to the edge. He leans down, capturing my mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue thrusting deep inside. I can taste myself on him, feel the heat of our bodies as we move together.

He pulls back, watching me intently as his fingers continue to work their magic on my sensitive skin. His touch is so gentle, so knowing, and it sends waves of pleasure coursing through me. "Come for me, baby," he whispers, his voice rough with desire. "I want to feel you come on my cock."

That was my last straw. I came with a scream, my body arching off the bed as my orgasm took me, waves of pleasure rolling through me. Jake's name was torn from my lips as I convulsed around him, my muscles gripping his cock in time with my spasms.

He followed me over the edge, his body tensing as he cried out, his hips bucking wildly. His hot cum spilled inside me, filling me up as he came, his grip on my hips unyielding. For a moment, we were both suspended in time, our bodies still joined as we caught our breath.

The room was hazy with the scent of our sweat and the lingering traces of our pleasure. Jake rolled off me, collapsing onto his back beside me, his chest heaving. I traced a finger along the line of his jaw, admiring the play of muscles beneath his skin. "You're amazing," I whispered, kissing his neck.

He laughed, the sound husky and satisfied. "You're not so bad yourself." He propped himself up on one elbow, gazing down at me. "Now think of an excuse baby. What are you gonna tell 'em we were doing cause it's been more than 7 minutes."

"We were just… talking. Getting to know each other a little better."

Jake chuckled, "Do you wanna talk some more?"

౨ৎperm taglist౨ৎ : @alvojake @cha-eui @heeslut4life @dollywons @wondipity @wonlvkay

My taglist is open. I will not be adding minors or blogs that do not have their ages mentioned <3. If you wanna be added feel free to send me an ask :3

#pockettwinzz writes #pockettwinzz #haze <3 #enha x reader #jake smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #18+ mdni #sim jaeyun #jake x reader #jake x y/n #sim jaeyun smut

[chalkrevelations]

Can you please stop making shipping a competition? Is really immature and leaves the rest of us like kids. All actors do a great job and made kinnporsche what it is.

Anon. Anon, are you seriously going to be so petty as to try to spike my enjoyment over VP fans getting some good food that is maybe one-quarter of an ep in which KP got far and away the lion's share of screentime? After VP fans, who have waited on tenterhooks for the couple's storyline to finally start, have been smacked down repeatedly for weeks by being told that "Well, the show's CALLED Kinnporsche, so what are you complaining about?"

Seriously, you can't even let me have half an hour of unadulterated enjoyment of 13 minutes of a 58-minute ep, before you start trying to make me feel bad about expressing my love for my favorite characters? Just how much catering to you is necessary to make you feel secure?

Am I not allowed to have my own ship and character preferences and to talk about them?

Anyway, if you're not into hyperbolic commentary, my blog is probably not for you, despite the complimentary commentary that I actually have given to other actors, characters and storylines in KP.

#god i know i KNOW better than to actually reply to this #and yet #nah fuck it #be gay do crime #MAIN COUPLE WHOMST? #vegaspete #kinnporsche #how we feeling vegaspete nation? #i'm feeling a little salty tonight #at least i am NOW

[cu7ie]

!! ( ｡> ᯅ <｡) ~ʷᵃʰʰ⠀⠀⠀ PLAY PRETEND // statue ⠀⠀⠀... loading file

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ (⊃´｡• ᵕ •｡`)⊃ the one where you're sleeping beauty.

⠀⠀⠀cw ☆ consensual somno (sorta, reader is pretending) ☆ mikey being a jackass ☆ clothes ripping ☆ oral (male receiving) ☆ large insertions ☆ reader has a punani and gets some fingers in it.

Your mouth is overflowing with saliva as you try and suck the cock that's making it gape, trying and not succeeding to avoid choking on the dick in your throat, shallow thrust's of your boyfriend's hips accompanied by his whining.

"Not enough," spittle trickles down your cheek as Manjirou's desperation begins opening up more of your mouth. He's hardly hitting the back of your throat and yet you can barely catch a breath. You're trying to breath through your nose but his hip thrusts are shaky and erratic and when the head of his cock brushes your uvula you can't help but choke just a little.

"You gotta get more in there." And if you could speak to utter a protest you would but you've already got your proverbial hands full, sucking with all your might and stroking off whatever you can't reach. Manjirou looks down with intensity, hair curtaining his face as he watches you struggle and decides it's for the best if you just stop, right now.

Your mouth has the residual shape of an 'o' as Manjiro grips your head and slides you off of him with a wet pop. You look up, bleary eyed with remnants of tears hanging near your waterline. Manjiro is flushed, his mouth gaping in awe of your cutely swollen lips and the dull look in your eye.

"Just let me fuck you." Your shoulders heaving, your heavy pants the only thing that register as a sound at the moment. You force yourself to remember what he said to be able to respond to it, subconsciously licking the cum from your lips before you do so.

(So salty.)

"No, no no. That .. wasn't .. the deal." You frantically shake your head and try to pull on his thigh for leverage. Manjirou pushes you down and keeps your eyes level with his cock, the swollen head leaking a lot more than when you first started. "Asshole,"

"I'm not trying to be! But this isn't gonna work. It's your throat or your ass and' you can barely even take half of me. You can't suck dick for the life of you-"

"Oh fuck off, then. 'f that's what you think, stick it up your own ass, how about it?" You take his hand off the back of your head and leave the guy standing there feeling dumb, dick bobbing and swaying like he's some kind of sex doll, uncomfortably stiff between his thighs. "Noooo. Wait-", 

He hears you slam the door (presumably the one to your bedroom) and he follows behind like a kicked dog, his dick in one hand and his pride in the other. "I didn't mean it you know…" he's saying as he opens the door and pokes his little head in and feigns innocence, like you're going to fall for his sweet words this time. 

"You suck dick just fine-"

"Manjirou. We're not having sex." He groans and stomps his foot like it's gonna make you change your mind, trying to convince you with his eyes that you ought to sleep with him tonight.

"No no no no no. Figure out what to do with your dick on your own. M'not fucking you." And with that final word, you turn the bedroom lamp off and turn over. Not convinced of his rejection, he tucks his boner back into his drawers and tries getting comfy beside you. You check him in the ribs and lean into your body pillow.

You're asleep a few minutes later, breathing heavy yet peaceful as you make distance with Mikey's impudence within the comfort of your mind palace. Mikey's breathing heavy, too. 

For an entirely different reason, angrily fucking his fist beside you in bed as he tries to curl into a pillow groaning as the velvety sheet drags along the head of his penis and makes him sigh, wishing you would have just let him fuck you. You're always nice and tight, with this whiny pitch to your voice whenever he's balls deep and just going at it; the wet sound of your sex emboldening him and embarrassing you. 

You always underestimate his strength on account of his size. He's managed to hold you up and fuck you just like that, no problem.

He can even laugh to himself, remembering the look on your face.

(That shaky gasp as he pressed your knees to your chest, holding you up with both hands, back against the far wall of your bedroom. Astonished, confused, horny. You're moaning like some whore as he grabs the fat of your ass for leverage, fingers carefully gripping the curves of you and positioning the head of his cock so it catches on the lips of your pussy. And baby you're shaking like you're coming down with something.)

He can't see your sleeping expression now but bets it wasn't nearly as adorable.

"..hmph." he sighs deeply through his nose, pausing a moment before the schlick shlick resumes and he's back to furiously getting off, his impudence crackling away as he is consumed by fire, arousal making his dick pulse and his body fidgit like he can’t be asked to sit still. You stir beside him but he doesn't regard you for the time being, too focused on finishing to notice how you've stopped breathing as deeply, how you're frigid and still and listening to him jerk his cock like it's his last day on fucking earth. 

"...haah." a shuttering gasp and more weight dips the bed. He's holding his shirt under his chin and feeling his balls tighten, his shaft throbbing in his hand - slick with his own precome, some of your saliva still. "Fuuuck."

Something about his desperation flips a switch inside you.  You listen to him pant and moan as arousal twists in your belly, and it goes straight to your pussy. You're not touching yourself yet but you feel arousal trickle out of you, your pussy getting slicker and wetter and you subconsciously grip the pillow tighter, Manjirou's groaning riding up higher and higher. Subtlety cast aside, Manjirou reaches out for you.

You tense up. And maybe that was a dead giveaway to the voyeur in you. Maybe it was a sleep response that Mikey didn't register. His hands are straightening your back out and you don't know what he's thinking until he speaks.

"You don't have to do anything. Just go back to sleep, you little whore. I'll handle it," He sounds a little tired himself as he pulls on the back of the frilly panties you wear, tugging once and shivering when he hears the elastic pop. "Oops! Hope you didn't like those too much. Not like you can complain. You're asleep." And you must be, because when his animal instinct has him resorting to pulling your panties to the side with a finger, you're still not moving. And while he kicks aside the covers to get a better look at your glistening lips, thinking about how badly he wants to spill this load in your pussy and watch it spill out,

You don't move. In any way he can observe. Your eyelids are twitching but your head is in the pillow. Your lips are trying not to quirk up into a smile, you're trying not to belt out in wanton moans as his finger buries itself into your folds and he smears the slick against the pad of his finder. But he's narrow mindedly focused on the snatch that his palm heel grinds into, your clit swollen from his eager ministrations. You groan into the silk cover on your pillow. Manjiro pretends he doesn't hear you.

He spreads your legs and his hands curve around your thighs, plush flesh bulging from between his fingers as he squeezes you. Raising and repositioning your hips until he can see your pussy quivering with his own eyes.  Your panties are taught like a cloth cage, they're being sucked in by your greedy little pussy and he wishes it was him, so as one does, he goes about making dream reality.

He licks his lips.

"Wrap your legs around me — just like that. Oooh.." he bites his lip as if to say 'you little tease', when he's still doing most of the work on his own. 

"I knew you were eager for some dick." His cock slides along your thigh with the barest of touches and you can hear the excitement build in his throat. "Ya didn't have to pull back on me earlier. You could have just said how badly you wanted me to…" He crooks the fingers he's lodged inside of you into the soft tissue of your walls. 

"Oh - ho, shit. We've got a bit of a leak down here." His tone is condescending, even. But he's not lying, your pussy is soaking your panties and he really does riiiiip them right off you, the broken remnant around your hips but leaving your sensitive lips on display for him oogle.

"What to do about that.."

He peers at your pussy and mulls over a solution. You notice he gets silent and leans into you, maybe trying to glean your thoughts from the way your Adam's apple bob's as you forget that sleeping people breathe deeper than that.

".. you think I should plug it up?" The sound of a smile leaks into his voice. He holds the base of his shaft and moves your hips a little this way, a little that way.

His cock teases at the fold, rubbing up against your clit and making you fidget in your 'sleep'.

"Okay!" Mikey is deceptively cheerful, the words on his tongue sharp like the devil's horns. "Whatever you think is best."

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀don’t be shy !⠀send this user a message!⠀૮ • ﻌ - ა⠀

#tokyo revengers #tokrev smut #tokyo revengers smut #mikey sano #mikey x reader #manjiro smut #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x you #manjiro x reader #🌩️ L1GHTN1NG_STRIKE5.pdf #🌧️ W34TH3R_R3P0RT.zip

[naompspsps]

How they would act when you fall asleep on their shoulder Pt. 5

Part 4 (Trey, Jamil & Azul)

Summary: You had a long morning, and you didn't even get enough sleep so now you are very tired, But sitting with them in the courtyard during lunch break, while they talk you find yourself falling asleep, your head on their shoulder.

Ft. Leona, Kalim & Ace x Gn!Reader [Seperate] (+ Jamil in Kalim's part, of course & Ace mentioning Crewel)

A/n: I dunno, Leona has the vibes of being a soft aggressive husband boyfriend.

Boyfren material Leona, Kalim being your biggest fan, Wingman Jamil having a secret passion aggression with Kalim as usual and Ace being ace. Fluff<33

! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !

Leona

He's something. As much as he wants to be soft towards you, he can't do it for some reason. Something in him just stops him from doing so, but, you can tell he's being soft by growling less at you, his grasp on your hand; gentle, and the look on his face when he feels bad for you; It's nonchalant but you see the way his eyes soften for you.

You sleep on his shoulder, when he was supposed to do it first, He gets a bit salty about it, but then realizes.. "Dang you suffered more than me." Soooo,,,, He just waits. And waits. And waits. What is he thinking of while waiting? Planning to buy you gifts. What gifts? Now that's where he doesn't know. At this point he might aswell just buy you food. Open your door tonight and he's gonna be infront of you holding a Mcdonald's bag.

It was silent. Too silent. There were no talking whatsoever, and for some reason, It made you Uncomfortable. Leona was just bored, his eyes closed. His head was leaning against the tree behind you both. You yawn softly, dropping asleep on his shoulder. He opens his eyes and gives you a little look. "What are you doing- Oh. Well look at you.." He whispers, Both taunting and jokingly. "Didn't think you would sleep on me when I was supposed to sleep on you." He mutters. "What happened to the plan with me sleeping on you? Tch.." He crossed his arms. After a moment of complete silence, He glances at you, his eye movements going to your eyebags as soon as he saw it.

"I also didn't think school would be merciless to you." He adds. He looks away, taking in the situation that you're currently in. He barely even cares about his assignments but you, who's probably an achieverholic.. He could care alot. "You put your health aside for your assignments because the teachers expect alot from you? Idiots. And you're one of them too." He mumbles under his breath. "Do those morons have any idea what they caused you?" Leona looks at you, his ears twitching and eyes softening at the sight of his lover sleeping, You are sleeping so comfortably, he barely even got to see that since he sleeps before you. "Ah.. You're already asleep. That's quick." He holds you by the waist as his head rests on yours. "Nobody better bother us or I'm gonna throw them all the way to the other lands." He whispers, placing a kiss on your head before closing his eyes. "And I'll treat you later for surviving this school's crap."

Kalim

Being really honest, He's like Cater but the one who doesn't take pictures and posts it. He gets so excited, starts yelling and Jamil just tells Kalim to stay still so you would sleep. Shoutout to wingman Jamil ig

He can't help but be excited, after all, You, His bestest friend that he apparently isn't aware that he has a crush on you, is using his shoulder like a pillow as you sleep!! He is so stupid in love coded I like it. You can't sleep from how loud he is but praise Jamil for making Kalim shut up and let you sleep, on his shoulder that's very very comfy. 👍

It was either he was speaking too fast, or your mind was just way behind from what Kalim was saying. You close your eyes, only to open then once again to Kalim calling out your name. "[Name]! Look at that butterfly!" He points at the butterfly. To be honest, You don't even know what you're looking at. "Mm, It's beautiful.." You lie. It's better to lie than say the truth that you don't see it, You knew he'd definitely drag you to see it closer. Kalim laughs joyfully. While you... Just stare at the grass. Until you couldn't take it anymore. You close your eyes to sleep on his shoulder. "..Sorry, Just for a while..." You whisper. You could've been able to sleep, but Kalim kept on talking.

"You know, You're cute like this! Ooh, Ooh, How about we go for a sleepover later?!" Kalim yells out excitedly, but you just.. Yawn stressfully. That was until Jamil just sits down beside Kalim. "Ooooh! Jamiiil!!!" He shouts. "Kalim, Mind shutting u- I mean, Could you.. Lower down your voice? [Name] seems to be enjoying leaning their head on your shoulder, sleeping, but you're too loud so they can't sleep." Jamil points at you, Kalim turns his head to you. "You can talk again later, Just let them rest." He sighs. Oh dear sevens, Kalim Al-Asim, You are such an idiot. "Oh- like like- This?" Kalim whispers lightly. Jamil could barely even hear Kalim but, "Good enough." Jamil shrugs, In reality; Jamil personally just wants Kalim to shut up. Kalim pats your head and hugs you gently. "Sweet dreams!.."

Ace

Your honor, with all due respect, he would tell everyone in sage island to shut up. His ceremonial robes groovy explains it all. Like, He's been realizing how you've been just sleeping in all places. While he argues with Deuce, You're there at the corner, sleeping. He's running around, you walk lazily. But what he doesn't realize is that the cause of that was the assignments.

He'd definitely be there to help you. It's canon, he's smart, but he just slacks off. When it comes to you, Oh boy he would grab the pen with a table magically appearing infront of you and a comfy chair. He would volunteer to help! No saying no, that isn't a choice at all. So you sleep there comfortably on his shoulder or he'll have Deuce knock you out with a cauldron. No jokes, he will actually command Deuce to do it.

"Dyahh.. This damn homework Sir Crewel gave us is so boring.." Ace complains. You stare at the papers on your lap, contemplating everything. Ace looks at you, stopping himself from speaking. "Hey, You good?" He lightly elbows you, causing you to snap back to reality. You look at him. "What were you saying?.." You question him. His eyes stare at you very.. Observantly. "You know what- That's it." Ace wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his shoulder. "You have been way too tired. Can't ya just rest or something?" You pull away, but he presses your head on his shoulder. "Ace- 'Can't." You mumble. "And why in wonderland is that?!"

"I still have alot of assignments to do, I can't rest right now.." Ace looks at you weirdly, as if saying you're a complete weirdo for wanting to make the teachers proud. "That's it? Dude, You can literally do that later." Ace sighs. You fix your position, starting to feel comfortable. "I don't want to.. I wanna finish them as soon as possible." You whisper. "You will finish them later, not a choice. give yourself a break, will you?" Ace hugs you tighter, You don't suffocate but you're suffocating with his scent. It's too good. "I'm gonna help ya later, so just sleep before I force you to sleep!" He lightly shakes you. You sigh in defeat. "Fine." Ace clicks his tongue and mumbles softly, You couldn't catch it but he totally said 'finally'. You close your eyes, feeling his hands hold both of your hands. "Just trust me, I'll help you with them if you just give yourself a break."

Author's End Note: soft but aggressive bf material leona lives rent free in my head. you tamed him & you should be proud of yourself 🎉

AHAH A FEW MORE PEOPLE TO GO AND IM DONE WITH THESE STUFF (kheeheehee look who has more ideas in the drafts)

! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #nb reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #kalim al asim #kalim al asim x reader #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #gn reader

[lovelyhan]

Vernon edging you until you're a crying mess and begging him to let you cum...? 👀

01:22 — VERNON

i'm...supposed to be studying for another exam but 🥹

you and vernon have a rather...interesting relationship dynamic.

when he first introduced you to the rest of his friends, they all immediately assumed that you're the one who called the shots. everyone knows that vernon is laid back by default—always going along with the flow that others have set around him without any complaints.

it's obvious that the same applies even when the two of you started dating. he's more than happy to let you take the lead in navigating your way through life as a couple and most people find it adorable, how he always accommodates you one way or another. that's just the kind of guy he is.

seungkwan jokingly called him an under when he witnessed firsthand just how easily your boyfriend bends to your whims.

but no matter how much of a pushover others think vernon can be, you're convinced they only think that way because they've never seen him in the confines of your shared bedroom.

"pretty," vernon chuckles softly, one hand grasping your chin while his free hand dabs away the salty tears streaked across your cheeks "you can take more, can't you? this is nothing."

nothing, he says—despite the fact that your thighs are already trembling from the third orgasm he blatantly denied you. part of you wants to talk back, but you hold your tongue, preening at the sweet smile still resting on your boyfriend's face as he sinks further down the mattress to hook your thighs across his shoulders.

vernon isn't a hard dom by a long shot, but that's what makes it all the more frustrating. when he teases you like this—edging you to the brink of insanity—you can't even resent him because of how lovingly he looks at you every time he denies you release. as if the cruelty of his actions is grace of the highest form.

"please," you cry out hoarsely when he gets his tongue on you again—sucking, slurping, making a mess out of your already ruined cunt. "vernon, n-need to come..."

your boyfriend chuckles with every sniffle and sob that ransacks your body each time his tongue swipes across your puffy clit. your fingers are tangled in his hair, holding his head in place as his tongue laves at your folds. he even makes a show of groaning into your pussy—the vibrations driving your nerves alight with glee.

"i think i've loosened you up pretty good. don't you think so?" he murmurs the words along the supple flesh of your inner thighs, trailing featherlight kisses with each breath. "think you're ready for my cock?"

you whimper, blindly reaching for his arms to tug him up. he only relents because you just look so adorable when you're on the brink of the tears.

"nonnie," you mewl, fingers laced around the nape of his neck as you desperately press your mouth against your boyfriend's—rocking your sloppy, spit-laden cunt across his clothed crotch. "w-want you to split me open. please, please, i've been so good for you. just wanna come— wanna come so fucking bad on your cock."

another rush of tears spills from your eyes and vernon can only sigh when he feels the liquid stick to his own skin. if anyone else could see you right now—crying and babbling as you dry hump him out of sheet desperation—they'd never believe their eyes.

vernon the so-called under, reducing his pretty baby to tears as they beg him to make them come.

he gives you what you want in the end—your face smooshed into the pillows as your boyfriend brutally rams his thick cock into your slick walls. though his touch is always weighted with characteristic gentleness, not even vernon can hold up against the addicting feel of your pussy clamping down on him with each delicious thrust.

"you're close again." it's not a question. he's much too familiar with the way your walls sporadically tighten around him when you're nearing release. "do you want to come, love? i've been a little mean to you tonight, haven't i?"

your cries come out muffled and vernon nearly comes at the thought of you soaking the pillows with tears and saliva. vernon's grip on your ass goes tight as he swears under his breath—his strokes coming in deep and precise so he can pinpoint that spot that makes you cry out his name in the prettiest way possible.

"f-fuck!" you bleat the moment vernon flattens his chest across your back—thrusts unrelenting as his free hand finds your clit. "don't edge me anymore, nonnie. please, please, please. i'm going to go insane if i don't come this time. give it to me, i want it—want it so fucking bad—oh!"

he fucking loves it when you run your mouth in the midst of a lustful delirium. but it gives him an even bigger ego boost when he feels your pussy practically squeeze the cum out of him at the height of your orgasm.

as much as you hate being denied the apex of pleasure several times over, vernon is always right whenever he says edging will just make everything feel a hundred times better when you finally come.

the words still ring true now, eyes practically rolling to the back of your head as your brain melts into a puddle of nothingness. vernon's intense gaze is riveted on the absolutely fucked out look on your face and that's what drives him over the edge—stilling his erratic strokes in favor of dumping his load in your willing pussy with a long-winded groan.

"you're fucking insane," is the first thing you breathe out once your mind comes back online—flopping your back onto the mattress as you catch your breath. "i feel like i died and went to hell and back seven and a half times."

"seven and a half?" vernon remarks with an amused look—getting up to grab a washcloth from the en-suite.

"yeah, life's hell when your boyfriend has an edging kink." you pout and he simply laughs before emerging from the bathroom, sitting at the edge of the bed as he cleans you up.

"you can always try it on me if you want to get even," he suggests, but you shake your head vigorously at the notion.

"no thanks, i'm happy to get edged and manhandled by the same guy i boss around in front of his friends," you tell him with a playful tone.

vernon shakes his head before leaning closer to peck your lips—wondering how he got so lucky to have landed someone like you.

"whatever you say, my little masochist."

⟢ end notes: this has been sitting in my inbox for a while now and i decided to squander my time by answering it AHDJSJW i'm just a sucker for soft dom vernon ok...... i'd let him edge me for hours if he just smiles his little nonnie smile at me before making me suffer again <3

#svthub #seventeen smut #vernon smut #chwe hansol smut #seventeen fanfic #vernon fanfic #lovelyhan #I FORGOT THE TAGS AGAINNSNDNANA #📝 drabble #🍵 tea time #💌 anon

[emepe]

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

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

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

— Chapter summary: A simple dinner party leads to new relations. Eren Jaeger can't keep his eyes off of you.

— Content warnings: mentions of murder, alcohol consumption.

— Notes: I'm so excited to post the first chapter to my new series. I've been wanting to write again for two years now and I finally got hit with inspiration. This is a little different from my usual stuff, but I hope you'll like it. A special thank you to @dreamy-jaeger​ for beta-reading <3 Happy reading, bubs!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

at first sight

Nobody ever said anything about the desperate cries that could be faintly heard from one of the units in Sina Park. Then again, the surrounding houses were occupied by people well into the age when sound just doesn’t reach them as well as it did even just a few years back.  

Sina Park was known for being a peaceful area. With its small and painterly identical houses, and its gardens full of color and floral aromas, it was a picture-perfect community. It wasn’t embedded into its terms to remain strictly as senior-only housing but the great majority of its residents certainly gave off that idea to any outsider. It was to the point where it came as a surprise for one to find out there was someone under the age of sixty living there. But everyone in Sina was well acquainted with each other, and friendliness was practically the norm between every carefree neighbor. 

That was probably why Mr. Shadis didn’t bat an eye when he was enjoying a cup of tea on his front porch and he saw the youngest of the Sina community step out with a duffel bag that was promptly thrown into the trunk of his car, the same night silence reclaimed its territory in Sina Gardens. 

“A bit chilly tonight, eh Fred?” Mr. Shadis asked from his side of the street, raising his hand in greeting when he saw his neighbor walk out.

The young man tossed a boyish smile toward his elder while reciprocating his wave. 

“Just a bit, Mr. Shadis. You probably shouldn’t be out much longer or you’ll catch a cold,” he replied, still smiling as he slammed his trunk shut and smoothly tossed his car key in the air with his left hand, catching it swiftly with his right. 

“Me? What about you?” Shadis teased.

“I’ve still got good bones,” he joked to which Shadis clicked his tongue, feigning hurt feelings as he shook his head.

“You be careful on the road now, eh Fred?” he said, watching the young man disappear into his car, his hand lagging behind to wave goodbye.

The car peeled slowly from its driveway, out of Sina Park, and onto the main road. As the speedometer needle trembled between steady numbers, music flowed softly through the car’s speakers, barely loud enough to disguise the disgusted voice that murmured “That’s not my name, you stupid fuck.”  

The early autumn breeze pins your skirt against your thighs and playfully tussles your hair as you hurry toward the bakery on the corner of the street. You’re welcomed by the pleasant jingle of the bell above the door, as well as Kuchel’s warm interior that puts a stop to the outside’s disturbances on your clothes. 

A slight impatience consumes you as you wait for your turn to order, but you try to keep your booted feet from tapping against the hardwood floor and settle for tapping your fingers on your wallet as you try to assess the available baked goods from your spot in line. There’s a variety of sweet and salty treats — from jumbo oatmeal cookies to pain au chocolat to rolls — but you’ve only got a single thing in mind. A breath of relief escapes your lightly chapped lips when you get close enough to see a neatly stacked pyramid of lemon bars in the display, and a second one after you have a box of them secured in your hands minutes later. 

A satisfied smirk tugs lightly at your lips as you allow yourself to admire the neatly packaged treats. As you make your way to the door, the bell dings, pulling your attention from the box and saving you from clumsily bumping into the man who just walked in. The exchange is brief; he quickly apologizes for the avoided accident and holds the door open for you with a shy smile. 

You don’t reciprocate his warm smile but opt for politely nodding in acknowledgment and thanking him for the gesture before hurrying out the door, not wanting to prolong his act of kindness more than necessary. You take a sharp turn toward the nearest bus stop, completely oblivious to the lingering pair of emerald eyes that steal one last glance at you from inside the bakery. 

Once again, the wind teases your hair until it finds itself locked out by the shutting door of the bus you settle into. Your hand dives into your purse to retrieve your earbuds as soon as you find a seat, yet no music plays throughout your journey. The box from the bakery remains safely in your lap, the contents being lightly jostled now and then when the bus stops to pick up more passengers.  

From the bakery to the bus and for the twenty-minute commute, you go over the names of the people you’ll be meeting in your head. 

It’s not often that you get invited to a coworker’s housewarming party. It’s not often that you form a friendly relationship with a coworker. In fact, it’s not often that you engage with someone at all unless it’s for work or other impersonal things. But Armin Arlert’s nice. Despite being the kind of person who can’t seem to let the purposely lonely be lonely, you’ve taken a liking to him. 

His friends, you think, might be a different story. It’s not that you expect them to be dreadful people, but socializing has never been your scene. You can be pleasant, laugh at jokes, and perhaps even throw one out yourself, but it’s not in you to pursue deeper connections. You’re more at ease keeping to yourself and observing if anything. However, the hopeful look on Armin’s face during your lunch break last week, when he insisted he wanted you at his party, has been popping up in your head at all hours so you feel as though you have no choice but to go beyond your standard pleasantries.  

Your plan for surviving the evening is simple. Get there a few hours early so you can help cook, clean, or anything else Armin might need help with before his friends arrive. Partly because that’s what your altruistic nature steers you to do, but also because you’re hoping you can get a refresher course on what Armin's friends are like so you know what to expect and how to act. If they’re all friends of Armin, maybe it’ll be worth it for you to put some genuine intention behind your courtesies. After all, being friends with Armin hasn’t been difficult so far. You dare to even call it nice. Maybe it’s time for you to make at least one more friend.

Armin’s kitchen is bustling with energy as he and his friends move from one spot to another, swiftly keeping out of each other’s way in perfect sync to finish dinner preparations. 

“I still can’t believe every single one of you bought me a candle… and the same one to top it all off,” Armin shakes his head in amusement, his mind recalling the small cluster of ocean-scented candles he left on the living room coffee table. 

Despite his constant assurance that he’d take full responsibility for the food and drinks — he was the one to bring up the idea of a housewarming party first, so it only made sense —, all of his friends arrived little by little before noon to help out with the cooking. First was Mikasa who, as soon as Armin opened the door, handed him the gift bag with a smile, congratulating him on the move and saying she hoped her present would help make the place a little cozier.   

Then came Connie and Sasha who, despite being roommates, failed to coordinate their gift choices and only realized they bought the same thing when Armin opened Sasha’s bag first and Connie’s jaw dropped in absolute horror. It only got funnier from there. Jean barely stuck the carefully wrapped gift box toward Armin when Mikasa muttered under her breath “It’s a good day for candle sales”. 

“Well, you like candles, and the ocean is pretty much your brand, dude. Don’t blame us.” Jean shrugs, not bothering to peel his focused gaze from the carrots he’s grating. 

“The last time I even talked about the ocean I was, like, fifteen. Almost ten years ago!”

Everyone knows Armin loves the long-term supply of ocean-scented candles, and what may seem like complaints to outsiders is just another bit they’ve all dragged on from their youth.

But Connie still seems a bit lost. His hands pause from sprinkling rosemary leaves on the potato wedges Mikasa neatly laid out on a baking tray.

“So you’re not fucking with the ocean anymore?” he asks with an uncharacteristically serious expression that causes Jean to sputter a laugh before disguising it as a cough. 

“Ignore them,” Sasha prompts, rolling her eyes. Her lips then stretch into a suggestive grin. “Tell us about the girl you invited over. Before she gets here, you have to tell us for real this time, are you into her? Do we need to talk you up? I’m the best wingwoman, Armin. I will make her love you even if it kills me.” Sasha’s hands fall heavily onto Armin’s shoulders as if to back up her conviction.

Armin furrows his brow in mild exasperation. This was the second time he’d been harrowed with that string of questions, which didn’t seem like much, but it took a while for him to get his friends to drop the topic the first time around. He shakes his head and peels Sasha’s hands from his form, fixing them firmly at her sides.

“I already told you it’s not like that. And I don't think human sacrifice is needed, Sash. We’re friends. I just want her to meet you guys… and Eren, of course.”

Nobody picks up on the short pause before Eren’s name or Armin’s sly expression that he’s quick to hide by turning to face the sink.

“She’s a bit quiet but she’s really nice. I think she’ll be a nice addition to our group. You’ll like her, I promise. Just go a little easy, okay?” Armin pauses as he tugs on a pair of dishwashing gloves to whip around one last time. “And don’t say anything weird! I swear I’m telling the truth.”

“Okay,” Jean replies in a sing-songy voice. Armin turns to shoot him a threatening look upon hearing his teasing tone, only to find Jean pointing a stern finger in his direction, “But if you change your mind, I got you, bro.” 

Armin only smiles in response, not willing to spare any more breath in correcting him, and starts washing the dishes. Before he can finish scrubbing the bowl in his hands, the doorbell rings and he rushes to pry himself free from his dishwashing gloves before heading to the intercom, glancing back to make sure everyone is still keeping busy.

“It’s me,” a slightly fuzzy version of your voice comes through the speaker. 

He buzzes you in immediately and steps into the hall to wait for you.

When he sees you round the corner, his face breaks out into a grin. 

“Hey, you made it!”

Your lips quirk into a small smile. Armin makes way for you to step inside.

“I thought I could get here a little early to help you with the food. I hope that’s okay.” Your voice trembles a bit at the end, and you start to worry when you realize Armin’s grin has faded. 

“Actually, everything is pretty much done already. Everyone got here around noon, and they kind of took over.”

As if on cue, a burst of laughter hits your ears from where you assume the kitchen is. 

You manage to let out a slow ‘oh’.

Your simple plan has officially backfired. Since Armin's friends are already here, and since he's had no shortage of hands to help him prepare for his get-together, there's nothing left for you to do. More importantly, there’s no more window for you to ask questions. You hoped you’d be the first to arrive, and each arrival after that would be spaced out so you had enough time to get a feel on every one of Armin’s friends on their own. Now that that’s out the window, you start to worry the dynamics will be a bit too awkward between you and however many there are of them. It’s a battlefield now. Too many factors, too many things to worry about. Headfirst, no safety net, no baby steps.

Almost as if he can sense your panic through your otherwise expressionless face, Armin smiles.

“Don't worry about it, they're nice.”

Your fingers curl tighter around the box of desserts. There's a permanent knot in your stomach that twists further, reminding you of its presence, in situations like this. Your mind flashes a jumble of different scenarios and all the possibilities for outcomes without letting you actually process or make sense of any of it. 

And in the next instant, you're back. 

“I brought some lemon bars from Kuchel.” You raise the box just enough for the movement to catch Armin’s eye.

His face lights up when he looks down at the box in your hands and he immediately takes hold of it.

“I freakin’ love these! Thank you!” 

Relief washes over your previously tensed features. Of course, you already knew these specific lemon bars are Armin’s favorite. He's always bummed out when you go together to Kuchel for your lunch break and there's no more left.

“I actually got the last batch,” you state proudly, the feeling only growing when his fingers excitedly tug at the ribbon tying the handles together and fishing out a pastry, biting into it with no hesitation.

“No kidding, they always sell out. Come on, I'll introduce you to everybody.” He heads toward the kitchen, waving at you to follow him.

You nervously tug at your turtleneck's sleeves, leaving them to cover your hands in an almost protective manner. 

The fact that all eyes fall on you the second you step into everyone's line of vision doesn't help you feel at ease. Your gaze wanders to a distant place in an attempt to lessen the mental weight everyone's stares bear on you. But Armin throws a comforting arm over your shoulder and gives you a light squeeze as he announces your name to everybody. 

When you look up — because you have to in order to properly link names and faces together — each new person in the room has a warmth to their features that gradually soothes your internal distress.

Sasha’s the first name to be called out. She's also the only one who goes up to steal you from Armin's arms and hugs you excitedly, squealing about how exciting it is to finally meet you. You're taken aback by the sudden embrace, but she’s holding you so tight that you can't look back at Armin for help. You're also oblivious to his warning gaze toward her behind your back. 

Mikasa smiles and nods politely at you from the other side of the counter. It's quite the contrast from the first girl, but her gaze radiates kindness.

Jean's good looks are the first thing you notice from him, and he's got a cool energy to match. He raises two fingers in a salute when it's his turn, paired with a side smile as he casually leans against the bar.

Lastly, there's Connie, who proves himself to be as goofy as Armin told you beforehand, by dramatically posing with one arm against the counter and his opposite hand resting on his hip, muscles flexed, head turned low just so he could look up again and say “the one and only”. 

You purse your lips in response to hide the smile that still manages to slip through.

“Nice to meet you all.”

You stand there awkwardly for what you think is a second too long, silently begging to come up with something else to say or for someone else to pick up the task so everyone can move on. 

Thankfully, Armin swoops in, showing off his box of lemon bars on his way to a seat at the bar. He taps the seat next to him, gesturing for you to sit.

“Impressive,” Jean says, nodding in approval as he neatly folds a tea towel. He knows how much Armin loves Kuchel's lemon bars. 

“It's not a big deal,” you reply, waving him off as you scan the room for something to give yourself to do. But there isn't much. 

The counters have been cleared of any signs of ingredient prep during introductions, there's a timer set for the oven, and there's but a small pile of dishes left unfinished at the sink, which Mikasa is already finishing up. So you settle for sitting at the bar and staying out of everyone's way.

However, sitting still doesn't clear you from everyone's attention. It only makes sense that they're curious about you. And with the oven timer still with a little less than an hour to go, you can sense the start of a conversation where you're the main focus. 

“So…” Jean begins. 

Everyone gathers around the bar.

You brace yourself.

The following minutes are a bit of a blur. You try your best to keep up with everyone's questions. Where you're from, your birthday, your zodiac sign, what kind of music you like, if you've been to this and that place, or tried the food at x, y, and z. They're pretty basic questions, but as long as you're a target you're kept on your toes. After each of your answers, there's an exchanged glance or a nod of approval. You know everyone is only trying to get to know you, yet you can't help but feel as though every question is part of a test and your likability is at stake. That is until the conversation branches out to a story about the best taco truck in the next town over, which, in turn, leads to a story about Connie and Sasha getting food poisoning from a different taco truck they decided to try after their favorite one happened to close early that day. Only then can you breathe a sigh of relief. You even laugh a little at Sasha’s colorful retelling of the taco story. 

“So, basically, don't go to Tito's,” Sasha finalizes, giving you a stern look. “You'll be shitting and barfing for a week.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” you laugh.

After that, the conversation flows a lot easier for you. There's less pressure with the decrease in questions thrown your way, which gives you more confidence to chime in with anecdotes of your own. It's hard to pinpoint when the conversation stopped feeling like a test, but you're grateful for it. 

You realize there was never any battlefield to survive. Not here, not with this group of friends. And it’s nice to have several people willing to fill in any silence and steer the flow of the conversation instead of feeling the pressure of everyone's interest in your hands. 

Just as you take a second to wander your gaze across everyone's laughing faces, finally feeling at ease with your place in the group, the doorbell rings, followed by the shrill sound of the timer. 

“Fucking Jaeger,” Jean mutters.

“Just in time,” Armin grins, hops down from his chair, and makes his way to the door. Jean follows him at his heel, mumbling something about “Jaeger” being late. 

You're distracted by Mikasa's voice calling your name. 

“Could you get me the oven mitts, please?”

You nod and offer your assistance in taking out the chicken.

On the other side of the wall, Armin buzzes his last guest in and holds the door open to wait, shooting a confused look at Jean, who leans back against the wall to wait, too.

As soon as he comes in, Armin yells out, “Eren!” and pulls his best friend into a big hug, forcing him to crouch slightly to accommodate his embrace. They both laugh as Jean stands with his arms across his chest and a disgruntled look on his face.

“Hey, man. Sorry I'm late.” 

“Mhm,” Jean hums, expecting Eren to cower under his gaze. 

He doesn't. Jean is completely ignored as Eren sheepishly starts to explain himself, even though Armin didn't expect him until around this time anyway. 

“I wanted to get you those lemon bars you like from that bakery. But when I got there, they were all out, so I went to their other shop across town, but they didn't have any either, and so then I—”

Armin laughs. 

“Relax. You made it, that's what matters.”

“I feel bad, though. I really wanted to get some for you. I know they're your favorite.”

“If you really wanted to do something nice, you could've gotten here earlier to help with the cooking,” Jean scolds. Then he smirks. “Like I did.” 

Eren rolls his eyes, finally acknowledging Jean. 

He then pulls out a small gift box and hands it to Armin with a smile. 

"I got you a candle, though."

Jean snorts and walks back to the kitchen, leaving an annoyed Eren shooting daggers at his back. 

Armin graciously takes the gift, taking the lid off to confirm that the candle is, indeed, ocean-scented.

"Thanks, buddy. I was running short on these," he smiles sympathetically at his friend, patting his shoulder. 

As they walk into the open space of the dining area, you walk out with a stack of plates in your hands to set the table. Armin perks up upon seeing you and excitedly rushes Eren, saying he wants to introduce him to somebody. 

Armin’s voice catches your attention as you carefully set the plates down. “This is my best friend Eren.” 

Your gaze shifts toward the pair of surprised green eyes already set on you while Armin’s voice goes on in the background, repeating your name to his friend. 

“Hey, it’s you.” Eren smiles in recognition. 

Armin’s eyebrows raise in surprise; yours furrow in confusion. Everyone starts filing to the dining area with food and silverware to finish setting the table. You step aside, murmuring quiet apologies as you get out of their way and step closer to Armin and his friend. 

“You two know each other?” Armin asks, his gaze shifting between the two of you.

Before Eren can answer, he’s interrupted by Mikasa walking over.

“Hey, Eren. You’re late.” She looks up at him with disappointment. You get the feeling he was supposed to arrive around the same time she and the others did.

“Yeah!” Connie whines from the dining table, where he’s setting up wine glasses. “We had to work twice as hard.” 

Eren ignores Connie’s flawed math.

“Sorry, everybody,” he replies, yet his tone is more that of a meek kid who’s forced to apologize. 

He returns his focus to his original conversation. Armin is still looking at him expectantly.

“Oh, right! Uh… yeah, we bumped into each other at Kuchel’s earlier,” he finally explains. He looks at you shyly. “I held the door for you.”

Your furrowed brow softens, and your lips shape into a silent ah! when you recall the brief interaction. You didn’t even remember his face, but you nod along now.

“Come on, guys. Let’s eat!” Mikasa’s voice cuts through the silence, putting an end to your conversation.

Throughout dinner, everyone is a lot more chatty than you expected, considering there's plenty of food to get through. Everyone spills out as many light-hearted anecdotes about one another as the bites they take of baked potato wedges, garlic butter chicken, and grated carrot salad. Their stories are clear to have been brought up between them several times over the years, but they're new to you and you appreciate them choosing to share with you.

It turns out, the universe has worked its magic to make sure all six friends remain close since childhood. The fact is a little intimidating when you find out, but you do your best to push it aside.

At first, you're perfectly fine quietly listening as you eat, your voice only adding to the mix in the shape of a laugh, a gasp, or a question for the storyteller — just enough so they don't forget you're there. 

The entire time, you feel a pair of eyes stealing glances at you from across the table even when you're not talking. Whenever you slowly look up to meet them, Eren quickly shifts his gaze elsewhere. When choosing places at the table, Armin insisted on having you across from one another. He didn't outright say it, but he did rearrange everyone else so that it worked out that way. 

Given that he was the last to arrive and you've barely spoken directly to each other since he got here, you're not sure how to feel about Eren yet. He seems nice enough, but you don't feel as easy even looking at him as you do with the others. It's strange, but his late arrival made all the difference. Somehow he seems like a total stranger compared to the people you met just an hour before him. After your awkward introduction, it’s hard to say if you can make the situation better.

Night has settled in by the time everyone is leaning back in their seats with full bellies, lazily sipping wine every few minutes as the conversation eases into a quieter, slower pace. The serving dishes have been scraped clean. The box of lemon bars you brought over has been split for dessert, leaving just one lonely square that you know a slightly tipsy Armin has been eyeing. 

Eren had turned to look at you with surprise when Armin thanked you for the second time.

“Ah, so you're the one who beat me to the last batch,” was what he said. 

A soft apology tumbled from your lips.

So far, you hadn't proved yourself to be big on smiling but, when you did, it was nice to look at. Consequently, he tried to be the cause of at least one. So when you gave him nothing for his weak attempt at teasing, he shrunk in his seat and decided to keep quiet. 

It's not long before Jean suggests moving to the living room to play a game and you take that as your cue to start clearing the table so there's no mess to come back to later. As you slip quietly into the kitchen, you can hear Jean and Connie arguing over whether to play cards or Monopoly. As Connie argues, he doesn't want to play Monopoly with a cheater, to which Jean says it's not his fault he's the better player.

You carefully place the dishes in the sink, adjusting the streaming water to a warm temperature. As you tug the pair of dishwashing gloves onto your hands, you catch a glimpse of a figure stepping beside you. When you look up, you're met with a boyish grin and shy jewel-toned eyes. He's setting down another pile of dirty dishes on the counter.

“Hi.” 

You're not sure how to respond other than with a polite nod and a soft hi back. There's not much else to say, anyway. Half of you hopes he'll leave; you need some space to recharge your social battery. The other half is curious about the kind of conversation you might have to engage in if he stays. 

You focus your gaze on the soaking dishes, waiting with bated breath to see what he does. 

He stays. 

He offers to dry what you wash. 

There's a nervous tremor in his voice. Like a kid scared to ask for permission instead of an adult offering help. It's so small you barely notice it, but it's there. 

You nod. 

You wash, he dries. 

It's quiet save for the sounds of dishes clinking together. 

Then, his voice comes through.

“I didn't mean to put you on the spot earlier when I got here. I just have a knack for remembering faces.” 

An uncomfortable warmth crawls up your neck and pools at your cheeks. 

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm kind of the opposite. I just don't pay attention to faces,” you explain. 

“Oh.” He forces a laugh. “Yeah, no, I get it.” 

He tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, unsure of how to keep the conversation going. It's a bit discouraging for him to see how laser-focused you are on doing the dishes though, and he already feels foolish for making you apologize for not recognizing a total stranger. He tries not to stare at you too much but it's difficult when you're right there beside him. He only hopes you can't make him out looking at you from the corner of his eye.

You, on the other hand, can feel his eyes burning holes into your side profile. Ignoring it is harder than you hope but at least you have something to help. You're not sure if he expects you to reciprocate his efforts in breaking the ice, but you've yet to get a proper read on him. He was mostly quiet during dinner. Whenever a story with him at the center came up, he'd try to sway the conversation in a different direction. He seemed tense and you hate to think he might be uncomfortable with your presence. Maybe he's an anxious person who's easily embarrassed, you think. Or he might’ve thought you were stuck up and rude after you failed to recognize him and that's why the air now feels so thick. That happens a lot. The people around you are mostly a blur until — and if you ever — have a reason to break into friendly territory. 

The next time you hand a dish for Eren to dry, your gaze lingers, carefully taking in his features. His green eyes are striking, but it's not as if the rest of his face falls short of that. He's very handsome. In a more boyish way than you observed Jean to be, but sharper than, say, Armin. His brown hair is neatly cut on the sides, contrasted by the choppy bangs that line his forehead — something that brings more youth to his face. He's got long, thick lashes and plump lips. Faint freckles are scattered along what one might consider to be a perfect straight nose. He's very handsome, indeed. But that's not all. There's a delicacy to his features that blends them all harmoniously, making Eren Jaeger quite… pretty. 

Eren suddenly clears his throat; you take it as a sign to stop staring.

“So… um… how long have you been friends with Armin?” 

You already know the answer, and you didn’t mind the silence at all, but you might as well try to get Armin’s best friend in your good graces. Especially after your dreadful mistake of not recognizing him. It bothers you to think he might have decided he doesn’t like you because of that.

“Since we were six… Um… He had a lot of trouble with bullies back in elementary school and I beat them up for him.”

That part you didn’t know, so you pause your focus on the plate you’re scrubbing to glance at Eren with admiration. 

“I think he might’ve developed a weird hero complex by mistake though,” he laughs to himself. “He wanted me to get into fights every time he saw someone new being bullied.”

You laugh. The sound makes Eren’s chest swell with pride. 

“Did you do it?”

He bashfully nods without ungluing his gaze from the serving spoon he’s drying.

You laugh some more.

“And of course, then he would take them in as a friend. Something about strength in numbers or whatever. To this day he has this thing that he needs to take in anyone who seems vulnerable.”

You laugh through your nose fully aware of the familiarity you feel from Eren’s story.

“That definitely sounds like him.”

You grin as you finish rinsing the plate, excited to have found some common ground to latch onto for conversation. 

Eren admires your happy expression from the corner of his eye.

But when you turn to look at him, he averts his gaze, curling his lips inwards, and he takes the plate from your hands. 

Your lips downturn a bit, thinking you might still have a long way to go before you can make up for your mistake. 

Still, the thickness in the kitchen air dissipates as you each return to your tasks, the corners of your lips perking up in relieved smiles. 

Armin walks in a moment later with the remnants of a laugh on his face from whatever conversation he just left behind. His faded grin resurfaces when he finds you and Eren together, and he catches a glimpse of the pink tint dusting his best friend's cheeks. 

He watches for a few seconds, mildly amused that neither of you seems to notice his presence. Just as Eren finishes wiping the last fork dry, he decides to speak. 

“You didn't need to do that.” 

His statement is directed at both of you, yet his gaze is fixed on you, a warm smile gracing his features.

“You should join the others,” he tells you. “Oh, and uh…” He swipes a bottle from one of the cupboards. “Take this with you.” 

“Let me just help put away everything,” you offer.

“It's okay, Eren and I got it,” he assures you.

You back out hesitantly, only decidedly walking out when Armin gives you a reassuring nod.

Both men watch you leave. As soon as you're out of sight, Armin's lips stretch into a knowing smile. 

“She's pretty, huh?”

Eren's eyebrows upturn in clear worry when he rips his gaze from you to look at Armin. They soften a split second later in an attempt to appear nonchalant before his grinning friend. 

“Um… I guess so… I don't know.” 

He hurries to tend to the dishes waiting to be put away, hoping it's enough to mask the way he slowly deflates.

Plates and forks are stored in silence. An amused Armin keeps glancing at him.

After a while, a soft laugh escapes his lips.

“Relax, I'm not into her.” 

Eren stiffens, unable to remove his hand by will from the cupboard door he just shut, and instead letting gravity take the wheel. 

Before he can reflect on how exposed he feels, Armin's voice comes through again from where he's now leaning casually against the counter with his hands in his pockets.

“But I meant it when I said she's pretty.” He nods along for emphasis even though Eren has yet to look at him.

“She's really smart too. And kind! I mean, she can seem a little cold at first, but I heard some guys are into that. There's just this charm to her, you know? A few guys at work have tried asking her out but they're totally wrong for her.” He shakes his head at the last thought, then side-eyes Eren expectantly.

“If she ever goes out with someone, I hope it's one of the good guys.” 

Throughout Armin's speech, Eren kept his lips pressed together in a tight line, wondering where Armin was headed with all he was saying. At first, he assumed his friend was interested in the new face of the group, which is why he feigned disinterest. But with every word that kept rolling off his tongue, his intentions were blatantly obvious. And yet he still decides to ask, “What are you trying to do, Armin?”

"Nothing... nothing at all," Armin answers with a shrug, playing it off as if any suggestion is all in Eren's head. He straightens up and starts walking out of the kitchen. There's a pause in his step just before he can slip out of sight. Looking at Eren over his shoulder, he leaves him with one last thought.

“All I'm saying is if you just keep staring at her, she’s gonna get weirded out.”

Eren is left alone, blushing profusely and running a shaky hand through his hair. 

“Come on! That can’t be your most embarrassing thing!”

You shrug.

“That's all I've got.”

“What’s going on?” Eren asks as he takes in the scene. 

It took him a while to reason with himself alone in the kitchen. By the time Eren joins everyone in the living room — nerves finally dormant — everyone is sitting on the floor around the coffee table playing a drinking game. He walks over in search of an open space and ends up nestled between Jean and Connie. Jean throws an arm over his shoulders.

“Jaeger, good. Buddy, tell her about the time you tried to do a one-arm pushup.” From his sleepy eyes and the affectionate term toward Eren, one can easily tell he's drunk.

Eren looks up quizzically at everybody.

“We're telling our most embarrassing stories,” you explain. “Whoever has the worst one wins the round and everyone else has to drink. I think it's just a ploy for everyone to get dirt on me though.” 

You pout at your cup. It's clear you're a little tipsy, too.

Eren softly laughs.

“Whaa– we would never,” Sasha pouts.

“You're getting a deal! You get six embarrassing stories for the price of one!” Connie points out. 

As you start to argue that it's not really fair because it's not like you have anyone to tell, Sasha’s phone buzzes in her pocket and a loud groan rumbles from her throat after skimming through whatever text she just got. Her chin falls onto the coffee table, arms stretched out before her so she can reply. 

Mikasa looks at her with concern and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, affectionately tapping her nose afterward.

“What's wrong?”

“Kaya's out with her friends and she's asking me to send her money for an Uber. I told her to be careful with her money but she just won't listen.” 

Everyone either sympathetically smiles at her or idly watches her send over fifty dollars. You look at Armin, who quietly explains Kaya is Sasha’s younger sister who's a college freshman. You nod in understanding. 

“That's a little sibling for you,” Connie mutters, softly patting Sasha’s head. 

“That's why I love being an only child,” Jean states matter-of-factly. He stretches his arms over his head, rolling his shoulders back before reaching for the bottle of liquor at the center of the table. “Never had to worry about some annoying little runt.”

“I would've liked to have a younger sister,” Mikasa says. “It would've been fun to hang out and teach her things, you know?” 

A touch of nostalgia dances along her lips as she traces the rim of her glass with her index finger. 

“Oh, do you have any siblings?” Her eyes flit in your direction. 

The question is innocent, but the topic of family causes you to shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“No… I don't.” You try to smile, but it's stiff. 

Jean's loud clapping startles you. He tops off all but Connie's and Sasha’s glasses. 

“Oh yeah, single child gang!” He raises his glass in cheers and downs the contents. You follow his lead, hoping that'll mark the end of that topic. But it doesn't. “You must've been spoiled growing up, am I right?”

You lower your gaze, opting to fiddle with your fingers instead of answering. 

Mikasa seems to sense the fragility of the topic from your side because her eyebrows upturn in concern when she looks at you. 

“Hey, not everyone has a mother like yours. Don't be rude, Jean-boy.” She raises a teasing eyebrow as she whips her head in Jean's direction.

“Didn't you yell at her when she brought cupcakes to our class for your birthday?” Eren scrunched his eyebrows together in feigned thought.

“I was twelve! You can't keep holding that over my head. I'm twenty-five now,” Jean whines.

“And I've yet to see you mature,” Eren mutters.

A hushed giggle escapes your lips. You cover it up by sipping your drink. A satisfied smirk tugs at Eren's lips when he catches a glimpse of your smile.

Contrary to his sober self, drunk Jean craves Eren's approval and affection instead of their usual frenemy-like banter. He looks at him with sad eyes.

“Hey, I've made up for it. Mama Kirstein doesn't need to lift a finger thanks to her amazing engineer son.” 

Sasha’s face contorts in confusion.

“Last time I went to Trost with you, she was still working as a seamstress.” 

Jean waves her off.

“She just likes to keep busy.”

“What do your parents do?” Sasha turns to you.

You're trapped. 

From the corner of your eye, you can see Armin leaning forward with just as much interest as the others. In the past, Armin's asked about your family only once. After vaguely implying you weren't close to them, he dropped the topic. But now, in his intoxicated state, he doesn't do much to keep his level of curiosity under wraps. And knowing you're slightly buzzed, too, he hopes you’ve let go of any inhibitions that have kept you from revealing more of your background. 

Armin likes you. He's always admired your efficiency at work, but you seemed lonely and closed off — which is why he decided to approach you in the first place. To everyone in the office, you were a cold stuck-up woman — yet they still refused to stop obsessing over you. To him, you were just misunderstood and lowkey. Sure, you refused to do much to take up space in a room, but through small conversations here and there, he was allowed to slowly unveil your true self. 

But there was always another hidden wall. Armin wouldn't admit it out of fear of seeming like a creep, but that line you expertly draw — allowing someone in without fully giving yourself away — is part of what makes you alluring. That and your keen eye for reading people.

You wet your lips with a swipe of your tongue, looking for a way out inside the clear liquid sitting at the bottom of your glass.

Eren zeroes in on your face, trying to decipher the distant look in your eyes. The weight on his chest lightens when you finally speak.

“I'm not sure what they're doing now. Last time I checked, my mom was a drug addict, and my dad left when I was twelve.”

The weight in Eren's chest comes back heavier than ever.

Silence takes over the living room. Even the darkness outside the window seems eerily quiet as your abrupt statement courses through the gears in everyone's heads.

There's no certainty as to why you blurted out what you did. Maybe it was a sense of security which you now think was a trick of your mind. Perhaps the alcohol is to blame. After all, you didn't feel any need to be a burden on others on an otherwise fun night before. But the words just seemed to push their way out of your mouth. 

A severe scolding rings in your ears.

You always ruin everything!

You don't expect anyone to come up with an answer. In fact, you'll be grateful if someone simply discards your words and steers the conversation in a different direction. But if nobody does, then you'll quietly make your way home. There’s no use in annoying others by begging them to let you stay, promising you won't cause any more trouble. 

“How long has it been since you saw your mom?” Mikasa's voice cuts through the thickness of the air.

The look in her eyes is sympathetic. Not the fake kind that makes you feel pitied for having endured a rough life. It's the kind that simply matches such an ordinary question.

“About a year,” you murmur. 

Jean hums in thought.

“A year, huh? That's almost how long you've been in the city, right?” He scratches his chin as he retrieves the information you shared earlier from his tipsy brain. 

You nod. “Yup… one year.”

Everyone nods along to your answer. Everyone but one.

You nervously blink toward the left, searching Armin's face. He's slumped in his spot, his eyes lost at a blank point. They flash in your direction, and he quickly composes himself, but not quick enough for his expression to go unnoticed by you.

Despite some things here and there, he thought you were close. He never pressured you to share anything you didn't want to. Just getting along and respecting each other would have sufficed — he’s a giver more than he is a taker. But he feels like he failed to support you. He's extremely dumbfounded, but he doesn't make it a point that you never told him the specifics on something so big. He refuses to make you think he resents you for it. 

But the glimpse you caught of his fallen shoulders and clouded eyes still makes you lower your head in guilt. Just ten minutes ago, you felt accomplished for being on your way to gaining new friends and grateful that Armin paved the way for you. You're embarrassed for having thought that you could juggle more relationships when you've barely been open to the one you already have. It's almost laughable that you thought to leave your comfort zone and give this evening a try.

Before you can issue an apology, Jean's loud clapping startles you for the second time tonight.

"Well.” He tilts his head as he splits the last of the liquor into everyone's glass for one last drink. “In any case... if you hadn't moved here, you wouldn't be drinking with the best people you'll ever meet." 

“Hear, hear!” Armin yells beside you, following Jean's lead and raising his glass toward the center. 

Your eyes meet his. He's smiling, nodding almost imperceptibly for you to join your glass with everyone else's. The corners of your lips quirk into a relieved smile. You raise your glass.

The rest of the group cheers as joyful clinks spread through the room. 

Whatever darkness was squeezing at your chest dissipates. Your eyes crinkle in amusement as you allow your giddiness to take over. 

A pair of mesmerized green eyes linger on your face from the opposite side of the coffee table. His lips part slightly to draw in a long breath, followed by a sip of alcohol. 

A beeping phone sifts through the commotion.

Mikasa looks down at her phone. First, with curiosity, then with worry. 

Levi Don't go out at night for a while. Killer on the loose. SN3

She calls out Armin's name.

“Turn on the news on channel 3.”

The urgency tainting Mikasa's usual steady voice has Armin scrambling to find the remote, though with a bit of confusion. Everyone else exchanges quizzical glances while they wait for him to turn the television on.

A male newscaster is halfway through reciting a report on the police department's recent findings. 

“... The twenty-six-year-old woman's body was dismembered and disposed of in a garbage dumpster behind a local restaurant. Police have yet to report any evidence that can lead them to any suspects. An autopsy is ongoing to pinpoint the cause of death but with the initial report, signs point to a possible case of torture…”

The mood shifts yet again. Everyone stares at the screen, but the words no longer reach anyone's ears. Nobody recognized the girl identified on the screen but it's still unnerving when something so tragic and cruel happens in the city one lives in. Being close in age to the victim just makes it even rougher. 

Eren is the first to look back — specifically at the girls.

You all seem lost in thought. His gaze flits in your direction. You're just as distant, nursing your glass in your hands as you chew on your bottom lip. He turns to Mikasa.

“Was that Levi earlier?”

Eren's voice pulls Mikasa from her thoughts.

She nods.

“Who's Levi?” you ask.

“My uncle,” she explains. “He texted me not to go out at night for a while. They didn't say if this was a serial killer but I don't think he wants to take any chances as long as the culprit is out there.” In a lower voice she adds, “he's in the police.” 

You slowly nod, then suddenly remember where you are.

“I need to get home fast, then.” 

Your eyes land on the digital clock beside the TV. It's well past the time to catch the last bus. You swipe your phone from your purse to look up cab numbers, unaware of the nervous glances exchanged all around you.

“I don't think you should leave now.” Eren stops you from dialing the first cab company from your search results, his eyes wide with concern. He doesn't realize his hand is holding onto your wrist until you look down at it.

He pulls away, embarrassed, but remains firm in his statement.

“Eren's right,” Connie agrees. He has a protective hand on Sasha’s shoulder. “Mind if we crash here tonight?” He directs his gaze at Armin. 

“No need to ask. I'll bring out some blankets.”

It's two in the morning. A cluster of tired bodies sleeps peacefully on the living room floor. Lazy limbs stretch out and across someone else's. Light snores and rare mumblings are the only thing that disturbs the quiet. 

The murder on the news had left everyone unsettled. Much so, that everyone felt inclined to sleep together in the same room. It didn’t do much for their comfort given the space, but it gave everyone a sense of safety. 

Eren’s eyelids barely flutter open. They're so heavy, he wishes he could just ignore the uncomfortable fullness of his bladder. But he can't. Begrudgingly, he clumsily rises to his feet and makes his way to the bathroom, rubbing his temples with one hand and feeling around for any walls and furniture with his other while his eyes adjust to the darkness. 

When he gets back, he catches sight of a lone figure sitting out on the small balcony outside of the kitchen.

It takes him a minute to rid himself of the extra warmth in his face. He takes a deep breath and quietly slides the door open to step out.

“Hey.” 

You look up at him from your chair. Your knees are pressed against your chest, your arms wrapped around them for support as your cheek rests on top.

“Hi.” 

“Is it okay if I sit?”

You nod and proceed to face forward, resting your chin where your cheek used to be.

The night is pleasantly warm. You're wearing the sweats and shirt Armin lent you for the night. 

Eren's gaze roams every shape of your side profile. It's the second time you've been alone together and he's racking his brain on what to talk about to balance out the way he's been staring at you all night. He doesn't want to give Armin another reason to tease him. His hands are sweaty and his cheeks start to warm at the reminder.

“Did I wake you?” 

Your voice is gentle and sweet, but it startles him nonetheless. 

“No,” he manages to say. He pauses. “How long have you been out here?”

You shake your head as you look up at the star-littered sky.

“Not long.”

He hums, mulling your answer over. 

If you’re awake at this hour, not bothering to try going back to sleep, something must be weighing heavily on your mind, he reasons. That’s further proven by the way you’re shrinking into yourself, trying to take up as little space as you can. Not that he’s especially knowledgeable about you, but there’s a difference in how your quietness manifests itself now than during dinner. It’s comparable to the way you were after watching the news. 

“Are you okay?” 

He watches you hesitate to give him an answer. Your lips tremble, parting and pressing together a couple of times. It’s as if you’re willing to talk but the words are lodged in your throat.

“You can tell me.”

Still no answer. 

“Is it because of the girl on the news?”

Finally, you look at him. Your brows twist with grief. 

“I just can’t stop thinking about her. Her family must be devastated.”

All evening, Eren’s had a hard time holding your gaze. Mainly because he didn’t want to give himself away, but it’s also hard to admire someone when they’re looking directly at you. Once his racing heart finds a steadier rhythm, he finds it’s actually easy to lose himself in your eyes. 

There’s a subtle glassiness to them — one he’d be more concerned about if he hadn’t noticed it as a natural part of you. Your eyes heavily conveyed every emotion, every little thought. And Eren suddenly felt compelled to learn how to read them.

The way you’ve presented yourself so far — gentle and cautious — gives you an aura of delicate maturity in the eyes of others. But for a brief moment, you seem small. Troubled, even. 

“I know it’s selfish for me to be thinking about this, but sometimes I wonder if I’ll have anyone crying for me when I die. I don’t have many people,” you whisper.

It feels strange to Eren to suddenly feel a surge of courage when he’s been nothing but an awkward wreck around you since you met.

“You have us now.”

You don’t show yourself to be entirely convinced. In fact, there’s a hint of amusement shimmering in your eyes. But you appreciate his words no matter how empty they might turn out to be. 

Eren hesitates to ask you the question that’s been gnawing at his brain for hours now. You’ve been sharing such a pleasant moment, that he hates to think he might ruin it all and end up losing his cool in the process. 

“That stuff about your parents… is it true?”

It’s a leap of faith.

“You think I made it up?”

The raised eyebrow and the humorless smile that graces your lips take him by surprise, even more so than the firm tone of your voice.

“No, of course not!” He chokes on his words, frantic he might have offended you. 

But you laugh, and it soothes him instantly.

“Relax, I was just teasing you.” You look away, warmth pooling at your cheeks upon your failed attempt to be funny. “It’s true, by the way. I’m a child of neglect.” 

A heavy sigh pushes past your lips.

He doesn't pick up on your embarrassment — he’s much too focused on his own.

Despite the bitterness lacing your gentle voice, he can’t help himself from wanting to know more. It makes him anxious. Finding you attractive is besides the point. His mind is scrambling at any opportunity to get closer to you. He wants to keep talking. He wants to hear more about what worries you. He wants to stretch out the night and keep the conversation going — even if he’s caught off guard by your unpredictable teasing a few more times. He wants to know about your past. He wants to know you. But you kill off his chances when you suddenly change the course of the conversation. 

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” You look up at him with concern contorting your features. It takes everything in him not to let his gaze drift to your bottom lip that’s caught between your teeth to keep your nerves at bay.

“Huh?”

You clear your throat before explaining and fiddle with your hands as you do. You focus on the moon instead of him.

It’s quite cute for Eren to see you fidget for once.

“It's just that during dinner you barely talked and whenever I looked at you, you would look away,” you explain bashfully. “And then when we were doing the dishes together, you just felt a little awkward. I mean, I don’t expect you to be all chummy with me, but it was kind of like you were forcing yourself to talk to me.” 

Eren wants to smack himself. He had no idea of the message he was sending all this time. All those averted gazes and suppressed smiles must have looked totally different from your end.

“I thought maybe you were uncomfortable with me around.”

Your voice is even softer than before. It might have to do with the people sleeping inside or maybe you're just feeling quieter than usual. Eren has no idea. But it's a nice sound, and his quickening heartbeat isn't lost on him.

The abrupt changes in his system are giving him whiplash. And it’s all because of you.

“I’m not,” he whispers. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

A deep shade of red gradually tints his cheeks, openly defying the pale blue light from the moon. His gaze shies away from you and settles on his lap, where he nervously rubs his sweaty palms just to give himself something to do. When his eyes slowly drift back to your face, he swallows hard. 

It finally hits you.  

Oh, you think. 

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