#Mich writes fic

[thebearchives]

paper-thin walls | m.s.

PAIR. neighbour!mick schumacher x single mother!reader

SUMM. noisy neighbours was the last thing mick was expecting after the long f1 season. he's tired, he's stressed, and believe it or not, he's ready to give his neighbour a piece of his damn mind.

WC. 5.6k

NOTES. first fic of 2023, everyone cheer!! i'm trying out new styles of writing, so please lmk how you found this fic.

WARNINGS include excessive use of the word 'fuck' (i'm sorry), and...shirtless mick? as always, don't be a ghost reader!

rest and relaxation, mick. that’s what toto had told him before he waved him off at the airport. we need you in prime shape for the next season.

mick tossed in his bed, migraine prickling the back of his head as another screech came from the wall beside him. 

look like you haven’t slept in months, mate. george had thrown an arm over his shoulder, cheeky smile playing on his lips as he brought a finger up to poke the obvious bags under mick’s eye. look alive, mick. it’s only gonna get worse from here.

it wasn’t official yet, but soon, news would drop about lewis’ retirement and mick’s subsequent promotion to the empty mercedes seat. he supposed that george was right. the season had only just ended and yet already, his shared calendar was filling up faster and faster with events, testing sessions, and appearances for the new season.

i’ll tell you this now. get all the sleep you can get this break. lewis rolled his shoulders back, stretching his neck side-to-side. the now eighth-time champion yawned loudly, muttering about how he was glad to be escaping the early mornings of simulator practice that happened closer to the start and end of the off season. 

mick couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips. it was strange, really, how quickly the idea of sleep had turned from attainable to something as out-of-reach as his seat on the grid had been the year prior. except, only his fight for his seat came with much less crying and screaming from his next door neighbour.

now listen, mick didn’t hate kids, alright. in fact, his older sister had brought a wonderful little boy into the world some years ago, and mick didn’t like to brag, but he was certain he was his nephew’s favourite uncle;

( “you’re also his only uncle, mick.” gina rolled her eyes as she watched mick toss her son up in the air. 

mick waved her off, laughing along with his nephew. “i’m still his favourite, aren’t i, jonah?” 

he had directed the second half of his sentence to the boy in his arms who, when addressed, nodded rapidly and smiled at his mom with his crooked teeth. 

“yeah, mama! uncle mickie is the best uncle in the whoooooole world!” )

so, yeah, it was fair to say mick liked kids. but when that kid is crying her little lungs out at 2:53 in the morning for the third night in a row? yeah, that’s when he draws a line. 

a beat passed before another set of pitiful whines reverberated from the wall. mick pulled the pillow out from under him, and stuffed it over his head instead, hoping to drown out the sounds. 

his first order of business as a mercedes amg driver? move the fuck out. 

your eyes were red, beady with unshed tears as the figurative hammers slammed against your head. 

amelia was sick— had been for the past three days now. you had been trying to soothe her cries for the past hour, but to no avail. your heart broke to see your little angel’s face contort in pain as her whole body ached. 

it’s a simple cold. your pediatrician had told you such with a small smile. she was holding on to a red lollipop that she reached over and handed to amelia. the two-year-old had reluctantly reached out and grabbed it before rushing back against your side. her forehead was burning up as you pushed her bangs away from her face, face visibly worried. it’s viral, hon. the seasons are changing. nothing to worry about.

you had a sneaking suspicion that the lady from the fourth floor with the hacking cough had been the one to infect your little girl. if only the elevator doors had closed on her that day.

( you pressed the ‘door close’ button repeatedly, willing it to close before anne from the fourth floor would reach the elevator. 

amelia giggled with each press of the button. “i wanna try! i wanna try! mommy, please can i try?” she had stood on her tippy-toes, teetering over and grabbing onto your dress as support. 

you smiled, hand leaving the button to instead ruffle her hair. “it’s all yours, little lady. have at it.”

amelia reached over and pushed her finger against the ‘door open’ button. you held in a groan as the door jerked in the opposite direction. you tutted lightly, pushing amelia’s finger to the next button over. “wrong button, baby.”

amelia ‘ohh’ed,  finger pushing against the button one again, but it was too late.

you watched as anne rushed to the elevator door with a rejuvenated fervor, wanting so badly for the doors to close right before she got on. you prayed to schindler elevators that the doors would close on her.

schindler elevators inc. was unfortunately not a god, and thus, anne got on.

“good afternoon, dear.” anne sniffled out, turning to look at the little girl in front of you. “thank you for waiting, dearie.”

amelia smiled, “you’re welcome! what floor?” 

anne coughed loudly. you tried to hide your grimace. “fourth, please.”

the doors finally closed and amelia tugged on your dress once again. you smiled at her hopeless face, reaching up to press the fourth floor button. 

anne had coughed and sneezed a few more times before she nasally said goodbye and got off on her floor. )

anne was a sweet lady, you wouldn’t deny it. but at this moment in time, you couldn’t help but curse her with all the malicious intent you could muster. you were tired. amelia was tired. and yet, nothing you were doing seemed to lull the girl into a state of slumber.

faintly, you could feel the guilt creeping up on you. the walls of your apartment complex were thin— you’d learned that the hard way. you were aware of how amelia’s cries were probably making their way into your neighbour’ houses and into the hallway, but quite frankly, you couldn’t even pretend to give a shit while you pulled amelia into your arms and took her on a little walk around your apartment. 

her loud cries slowly turned into sniffles and low whines as you rocked her around your house, showing her all the framed pictures hung around your house. one of her hands found its way to your hair, twirling some strands while the other stayed nestled between your bodies. your shirts had come off long ago— skin-to-skin was always a great comfort for amelia, and you could tell that the material of her sleeves and your t-shirt was overstimulating her greatly. 

even dressed in just a diaper, amelia’s arm, and subsequently, the rest of her body, was burning up from the fever she was running. you had a feeling that the medicine you had given her before her scheduled bedtime was wearing off, but amelia had refused to drink her milk and you were reluctant to give her another dose on an empty stomach. 

you hated to rouse her once she had finally quieted down but after being a mother for two years, you quickly learned that too much empathy could lead to your downfall. amelia needed to take her medicine now so that she wouldn’t have another meltdown in an hour’s time, and if that came at the expense of her crying just a bit more, it’d have to do.

you hesitantly pulled amelia away from your skin, hushing her lightly as she started to resist and whine. “i know, i know. i’m sorry, baby. i know it hurts.” 

you made your way to the kitchen. you talked amelia through every step, hoping to keep her distracted long enough to pull out an applesauce cup from the pantry. “we’re gonna eat some food and then give you your medicine so your body stops hurting. okay, baby?” 

amelia shivered lightly as your hand grazed over her stomach. she watched with wet eyes as you grabbed a spoon and attempted to open the cup— it was quite hard, doing everything with one hand.

“can mommy put you down?” you stopped and looked down at amelia, who frowned before slowly shaking her head and leaning into your chest again. “you wanna sit in my lap?” amelia nodded, a shuddered breath escaping her as she let herself calm down.

you worked quickly, sitting down with a tired baby in your lap and peeling open the cup. you fed amelia with slow bites, hoping she kept her food down this time. after she finished about half the cup, she started to fuss, pushing her face into your arm to avoid eating anymore. you were too tired to care about the fact that she had rubbed applesauce all over your bare arm. 

you decided against giving her the next dose of medicine until she stopped being fussy— if there was anything amelia had seemed to hate more than being sick, it was taking her medicine. the one she had been prescribed was grape flavoured, and it was by far the worst flavour of medicine you had the disgrace of stumbling across. you pitied your daughter. truly, you did, but you wanted her to get better, and if this grape-flavoured syrup was the only way to nurse her back to health, you’d do whatever it takes to get her to drink it. 

amelia was now sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket as her clammy skin made her feel cold. she watched you with narrowed eyes as you manoeuvred around the kitchen to find her medicine and her sippy cup filled with water. although you had tried your hardest to hide the bottle from her, amelia recognized the purple bottle instantly, shaking her head furiously and whining out a no, mommy.

you sighed, not wanting to experience the third meltdown of the night. half heartedly, you wished for her to just stop crying and go to sleep, entirely too exhausted by caring for a sick child while running on a combined two hours of sleep. 

you couldn’t help but mentally scold yourself; god, you were such a bad mother. here your daughter was— sick and in need of your comfort— and instead of comforting her, you’re frustrated with her tears and couldn’t stand to hear another cry. you were just so tired. yet, you had no right to complain— you knew being a single mother would have been hard, but you still went through with it. 

you took a deep breath in, trying to stop yourself from spiralling. 

you carried amelia in your womb for nine months alone. you had gave birth alone. you had spent the last three years raising amelia on your own, and god damn it, a sickness would not make you question your worth as a mother. not over your dead body.

“alright, mimi.” you crouched in front of where amelia had been sitting, a weak smile on your face to try and coax her into drinking her medicine. “you’ve gotta drink your medicine if you want to feel better, okay?— no, don’t give me that look. mommy doesn’t want to give you this either, but you have to drink it or else you’ll continue hurting all night.”

the young girl sniffled, eyes already watering again. “but it’s yucky!”

you placed the sippy cup on the ground beside you, reaching up to caress her cheek lightly. “it is, but it helps you feel less icky and achy, okay?”

amelia stared at the bottle in your hand, a frown clear on her face. you wished she hadn’t taken up your stubbornness. 

“we can do this the easy way, or the hard way, amelia.” you gave her a slightly stern look.

amelia shook her head before pushing it back and into the cushion of the couch. 

hard way, it is.

you leave me no choice, amelia. you placed the plastic feeding syringe filled with 5 mL of the purple medicine, and reached out to hold onto amelia. you sat down in her spot, holding the girl down by her arms as she started to yell and flail her limbs. after she realized her arms were being held, she began to kick her feet, trying to roll out of your arms. 

your grip didn’t loosen, leaning forward to grab the syringe once again. you held the syringe near her mouth, and amelia immediately started to scream louder, yells turning into sobs. again, very faintly, you worried about the noise and your neighbours, but you pushed forward. 

you placed the syringe against the inside of her cheek, releasing some of the medicine. amelia stopped crying for a slight second to swallow before going back to her loud cries. the migraine from earlier returned as you repeated your actions twice more before tossing the empty syringe to the table and pulling the girl up in your lap.

amelia gagged loudly, and you couldn’t stop the loud no, no, no! no throwing up from escaping your lips. you grabbed her sippy cup before helping her wash down the medicine. god, children were so dramatic.

amelia, whose hands were now free, pushed the sippy cup away after a few sips. her lips were downturned into a big pout, and her eyes were glassy. her breath shuddered, still recovering from her outburst from seconds ago. you cooed gently, pushing her hair away from her forehead and eyes. 

“see, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?” you imagined that if she knew how, amelia would respond to you with a death glare. 

you pulled the girl closer to you, hand on her hair, smoothing it down as she placed her wet cheek against your sternum. you whispered quiet compliments to your baby as she started to calm down, hand coming back up to grab your hair and tangle her fingers into it.

it was quiet— no sounds aside from your whispers of i love you’s and amelia’s heavy breathing (her nose had stuffed up not too long ago). it had stayed quiet for maybe twenty seconds, until the silence was broken by a rather aggressive knock on your door.

amelia startled, and your heart dropped.  fuck.

mick wasn’t sure when he finally dozed off. the little girl from the other side of his wall had finally quieted down, and he could faintly hear another woman’s voice coaxing her to calm down. 

when he came to again, it had of course been due to another meltdown from the girl. he’d startled awake, pillow falling from his face and onto the floor beside him. his heart rate was erratic, and it took him a few seconds to get a bearing of his surroundings. when the next cry resonated through his room, he couldn’t help the loud groan from escaping past his lips.

mick sat up in his bed, suddenly feeling a strong wave of rage crash over him. it was late, and he was tired. it was past 3 am now, and mick schumacher had had enough.

the last few days had been stressful, to say the least. mick was going to be an official driver on the grid next season, for mercedes, and as excited as he was, he was also nervous— extremely nervous. yes, it was off season, but everyone knew that off season meant preparing for the next season. there really weren’t any “days off” in formula one, not really— if it wasn’t driving, it was sim work, and if it wasn’t the sim, it was working out to keep those muscles in shape.

frankly, mick had mentally exhausted himself by worrying for his next season in formula one, and with the lack of sleep, the man was nearing insanity.

he could feel the frustration, the exhaustion, and all his anxieties start to build up; start to consume him. he let them consume him. 

as if on autopilot, mick got out of his bed, walking out of his bedroom and directly towards his front door. another loud cry came from across the wall, this one louder from all the rest. 

if mick had been in his right mind, he wouldn’t have opened the door and rapped his knuckles against his neighbour’s door rather aggressively. but alas, mick had finally exploded, and who better to release his frustrations on than his next-door neighbours who couldn’t shut the fuck up at 3 am on a wednesday night. 

the second he registered his hand on the painted black door, he paled. fuck. mick felt like he was slapped in the face— what the fuck was he thinking? what the fuck could he possibly do? yell at whoever opened the door? tell them to shut their baby up? fuck. fuck.

mick held his breath, pulling his hand back. should i run for it? his eyes flitted from the door in front of him to his own. a beat passed, the door didn’t open, but he could still hear whining and muffled murmurs. it was louder now that he was out in the hallway— his walls had been thin, but perhaps the ones that lined the sides of the hallway were thinner. maybe they didn’t hear me.

before he could decide between standing his (now, remorseful) ground, or turn tail and hurry back home and sleep with his shitty “noise-cancelling” headphones on, the door opened. his head jerked up at the sound, eyes raking over your figure as he worked up the nerve to look you in the eyes.

you were a sight to behold, dressed in a plain black sports bra and loose, plaid pajama pants that coincidentally mirrored the colours of mercedes. the quick ponytail you had thrown your hair into some hours prior was now a ghost of what it should have been— most of your hair slipping out and splaying over your shoulders. the tangled ends could only have been caused by the young girl held in your arms. she was covered up more than you were, but from where the blanket fell off her shoulder and exposed her arm, mick could tell she was just as bare, if not more. (skin-to-skin, he’d realize some hours later as he laid on the couch and stared at the ceiling, this time wide awake on his own accord.)

your eyes, mick quickly learned, told stories clearer than even the most renowned storytellers. they were droopy and bloodshot with the lack of sleep. mick could read the exhaustion through them from miles away. aside from that, they were also bleary— as if you were seconds away from bursting into tears yourself. the girl in your arms sniffled, dragging his attention away once more as he scanned his eyes over her rosy red cheeks and irritated nose. oh.

a rogue wave of guilt crashed over mick, almost drowning him in the process. in his blind rage, mick hadn’t even considered what could have possibly led the girl in your arms to cry. it seems that the lack of sleep had killed his brain cells— rid him of all common sense and critical thinking. she was sick. 

the air was rather quiet around you three— aside from the little girl’s sniffling and heavy breaths, silence filled the air. mick mulled over what he should say. 

the girl in your arms shivered and you shifted her closer. another second of silence passed and you decided to take the reins of the conversation. “hi, are you here about the noise?”

mick could do nothing but nod, still feeling regretful for having knocked in the first place. his lips turned upwards into a sheepish smile, hand ruffling his already messy hair.

“listen, i’m really sorry. my daughter hasn’t been feeling the best for the past few nights, and i went around to let the rest of the hall know…” you trailed off, cocking your eyebrow as you asked him a question. “i don’t think i saw you around?”

mick stuttered. “uh, yup. yeah. sorry, i was out of town for the past few weeks and only just got back,” he gestured to the door to the right of your own. “ i live next door.”

you winced. “ah, that means you’re on the opposite side of my bedroom. i’m sorry, really. amelia rarely gets sick but when she does, she’s quite the force to be reckoned with…the noise should go down now, hopefully. her medicine wore off, and she’s just gotten a new dose. let’s both hope she sleeps like a baby, yeah?”

the light chuckle that escaped your lips made mick’s heart warm. the sheepish smile turned into a shy one. “yeah, of course. i’ll let you guys go to bed, then,” he gestured his head to amelia, who had somewhat fallen asleep against your shoulder, a line of drool dripping from her open mouth. “sorry for bothering you guys this late at night.”

you lightly shook your head. “i should be saying that to you. i’ll try my very hardest to make sure you’re able to catch up on sleep now!”

mick smiled and wished you a good night, turning back towards his door. you slowly let the door shut, the whirring and clicking noise signifying that it had automatically locked.

mick yawned as he reached his door. his hand fumbled to find the doorknob, eyes bleary with sleep. he pushed the doorknob down. it didn’t move. huh?

he tried again, and again, and one more time. each time the doorknob didn’t budge. mick became frantic, and for the second time in the past five minutes, he found himself thinking— fuck.

mick had boasted about the new upgrades for his apartment building for months to anyone who listened. how could he have possibly forgotten that his front door automatically locked? that he could only get in if he had his keys or if someone was inside? (“well, what if you get locked out? what then?” “don’t be stupid, gina. i’m not an idiot, i’d never do such a thing.”)

who’s the idiot now? mick groaned, hands pulling at his hair as he crouched down. he felt like crying. he was so fucking tired. now that it was finally quiet, now that amelia had finally stopped crying, mick was locked out of his house with no way back in. what a fucking night. 

mick stared at the tiled floor under him, gnawing on his lip as he thought of his options. it was 4 in the morning, not a single person would be awake and working at the front desk. he couldn’t call anybody— his phone was inside, plugged into the wall to charge after two days of use. even if he had it on him, the only people who had copies of the key were his mom, his sister, and hank, the man who worked the front desk— no one that would be awake, nor close enough to come up and unlock his door for him. 

his eyes flickered back to your front door, shaking his head before the thought could even fully form. he was not going to bother you again, especially not now. mick leaned his head back against his locked door, accepting his fate and slouching onto the tile. the metal of the door was cool against his bare skin causing a shiver to run down his spine. 

time was going by extremely slow, or at least it felt like it was for mick. his knees were now up to his chest, trying to find some reprieve from the cold air that breezed through the hallway’s air conditioning. he wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting like that, or when his eyes had finally shut until he was roused by the sound of your door opening. he raised his head, making eye contact with you for the second time that night. you looked mostly the same as before— tired eyes and unruly hair— the only difference now was that you had traded your sports bra in for a white shirt and a cardigan.

you cocked your head lightly. “oh? what are you doing out here?”

your voice was quiet, soft. mick felt his cheeks heat up, the embarrassment returning. 

his smile was sheepish. “i forgot my keys.”

your expression shifted, a round ‘oh’ shape forming on your lips as you nodded. before you could respond however,  your eyes widened and you immediately stepped back into your apartment, leaving mick all alone in the hallway. again. mick blinked, unable to comprehend what just happened.

you returned back outside with a soundtrack of quiet jingling. you brandished the keys in your hand to the boy sitting in front of his door. “almost just made the same mistake.”

mick nodded, an airy laugh escaping his lips. “i don’t suppose amelia knows how to open doors yet?”

you shook your head, “with those new child-safe knob covers? god, i hope not.”

the air became quiet, neither of you speaking many words. mick found himself wishing the silence would swallow him whole. he caved.

“so what—”

“would yo—”

mick flinched, instantly backtracking. “sorry, you go first.”

“no, no. it’s okay, you can go first.”

“no, really. it’s okay, it wasn’t very important, anyway.” mick pushed himself off of the ground, now coming up to stand against his door instead. “please, say whatever you wanted to.”

you pursed your lips, staring at his figure before sighing. “alright,” you nodded, “i was just going to offer if you’d like to crash on my sofa? it’s awfully cold out here, and you’re…”

mick glanced down at his bare chest at your gesture, cheeks flaming hot enough to drown out the cold breeze of the air conditioner. he crossed his arms, trying to cover up his chest, though you had already seen everything he had on show. 

he shook his head, adamant on not inconveniencing you further. “no, that’s alright. i’m here because of my forgetfulness, i can deal with it.”

you couldn’t help but copy his movement. “your forgetfulness came from the fact that amelia, and by extension, myself, kept you up most of the night because of how loud we were. if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

mick went to argue but you cut him off. “really, it all comes back to me, so let me help you.”

the german boy was silent, mulling over his options in his head. 

“it’s a pull-out.” 

his eyes met yours again. “you’re sure?”

“yes, of course.” you nodded excessively. “i was just about to go down to the laundry room–” mick’s brows furrowed, and it was your turn to smile sheepishly now. “— i forgot to grab the last load of laundry earlier because of how cranky ‘melia was being. if you don’t mind waiting for another 5 minutes, i can quickly go grab the load and let you settle in for the night?”

mick nodded, hand coming up to scratch at the base of his neck. “no, of course. take your time. i’ll be here…s’not like i’d be able to go anywhere, anyway.”

you smiled at his words, eyes brighter than they had been the first time you two spoke. “great!”

you pulled the cardigan closer to your chest, walking down the hallway as fast as you could without bursting into a full sprint. had you really just done that? had you really just invited a stranger you had briefly acquainted with not mere minutes ago to spend the night in your apartment? yes. 

you pushed the down button on the elevator. and then again, willing it to get to your floor faster. fuck, your mind was going crazy with the what ifs. 

what if he was a creep? you haven’t seen him around since before tonight. ‘out of town’ he says. for what? what if he was a serial killer? that would make sense. he’d fled the town to not look suspicious, and now he’s back for his next victims. yes, that was it. (in the future, mick would listen to your retellings of this story with a look of disbelief. “you thought i was going to kill you!?” “of course, i did! i didn’t know you!” “you offered that i stay the night!” “well, i don’t always make good decisions now, do i?”)

the elevator ride was rather short, and uneventful— no anne from the fourth floor to pull you from your thoughts with a hacking cough. you chewed on your lips as you mulled over the man you had left upstairs. 

the laundry room was quiet and dark. of course, it was expected for four in the morning— not everyone was as disorganized as you were. you rushed your way around the familiar room, grabbing the basket you had left behind and unloading your dryer. you had to work quickly to get back before amelia realized the warmth next to her was simply your heated blanket and not you. you also had to get back to him.

by the final fitted sheet pulled from the dryer, you had made up your mind. there was just no way that your next-door neighbour. he seemed nice— too nice, a voice rang in your head. you shook your head, ridding yourself of the negative thoughts. everything will be just fine. 

he was right where you left him— albeit, now returned to his slumped over position against his door. your footsteps were quiet, yet still managed to rouse him back to reality. 

you sent him a sheepish smile. “i didn’t take too long, did i?”

“not at all.” he shook his head. “you’re fine.”

a hum escaped your mouth followed by the nod of your head. you reached into your cardigan’s pocket to pull out the keys, unlocking the door quietly and pushing it in with your hip. you held the door open and gestured for him to come in.

his hesitance was obvious and in your head, you cheered. definitely not a serial killer. 

“an open door usually means you can enter, you know?” you gave him a soft smile. he returned it, though it looked slightly more like a grimace.

“are…” he started, arms crossing over once again, feeling bare under your gaze. “are you sure? really, it’s no problem for me to stay the night out here. hank will probably be in the office in another hour or two. ‘s not a problem, i’ll just wait for him to get here and i’ll get into my apartment. plus, amelia’s only just fallen asleep, and i’d hate to m—”

“oh, will you just get in here already?” you couldn’t help but reach out, lightly grabbing his arm before tugging him in. you guided the door shut with your foot, making sure it wasn’t too loud before turning around to look at the man in front of you.

his eyes were wide, flickering from your face to your hand, which was still wrapped around his arm. you followed his gaze, your own eyes widening as you quickly dropped your hand. your hand felt like it was on fire— his arm was cold, icy from the air conditioning, and a stark contrast from your warm ones. it felt like you’d given yourself an ice burn.

you cleared your throat, yet stayed silent, not knowing what to say.

the man across from you was in a similar boat, cheeks dusting a light pink as he focused on the heat emanating from where your hand once was.

“i’ll show you to the couch, if you’d like?” your voice tilted up at the end of the sentence. “i have a feeling our layout is the same, so the bathroom should be in the same spot, if you need it.”

he followed behind you with a quiet murmur agreeing about how similar your floor plans were. 

your eyes widened as you entered the living room,.empty syringes and dirty tiny baby dishes were strewn across the coffee table. you placed your laundry basket to the side, hastily picking up your earlier mess with an apology.

the shake of your neighbour’s head went unnoticed by you as you rushed into the kitchen and back out. it wasn’t until you had presented him with the pull out that he spoke again.

“you know,” his voice was rather quiet, conscious of the baby sleeping just a little ways away. “you really should not let strangers into your home.”

for a second, you nearly felt your heart stop— this was it. he really is a serial killer— until you caught his expression, once again riddled with guilt as if he was overstepping. as if you hadn’t invited him in.

“you’re not really a stranger though, are you?” at the cock of his head, you continued. “you’re my neighbour who i’ve inconvenienced all night.”

“you don’t even know my name.”

you nodded. “alright, i’ll bite. you bring up a good point. so what is it then? your name?”

“...mick.” he had a slight smile playing on his lips.

“well, mick.” you gave him a small smile, initiating a handshake. “my name’s y/n. now, we’re neither strangers, nor neighbours with no names.”

mick couldn’t stop the smile from spreading over his lips, hand warm in your hold. “i suppose you’re right, then.”

you quickly left to grab the man— mick— a few pillows and a comforter from your closet. “i’m the door at the end of the hallway. if you need anything, you can knock on that door and let me know.”

mick nodded. “of course. thank you again, really.”

“not a problem.” you smiled, already making your way out of the living room.“i’ll see you in the morning, then.” 

as you walked out the room, you couldn’t help but turn once more, eyeing the blond-haired man who somehow didn't look so out of place as he messed with the teddy bear that you’d forgotten to pick up from the couch. you smiled.

“goodnight, mick.”

“sweet dreams, y/n.”

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[astroels]

What you need

E.williams x reader

wc, 1.5k

cw, no plot, just smut, sex in a party bathroom, teasing, very slight dirty talk, fingering, pet names, fem!reader, oral sex, breast play

a/n: this is inspired by what you need by the weeknd, cause lord does ellie have me running laps, also can we pls appreciate this hair cut, it's my fav

au is up to interpretation MDNI +18

Ellies touch shouldn't feel this good, but the way she eyed you all night made you weak in the knees. If anyone found out about your secret pleasure, they'd surely judge. But no one knew how to make you scream the way she did. Your past lovers were lousy, never fulfilling your needs. Ellie, on the other hand, knew what you liked, knew how to make you feel vulnerable, and knew how to find every right spot.

She wore her pretty button-up with her sleeves cuffed just so you could see her tattoo and the way her arms flexed while manhandling you in the restroom. Ellie had you pressed against the door, eager to get her hands on you as soon as she could. She kissed you roughly, rarely giving you the chance to get a breath in-between. Her tattooed arm holding your jaw, guiding you with the movements of her tounge, which had you desperate for her. The desperation grew with the way she inserted her leg in between yours. Your dress slightly rode up with the sudden separation.

"All dressed up for me, pretty girl?" She whispered as she nibbled down your neck, placing sloppy kisses and hickeys that would need to be covered. The idea of you covering her work, her love, made you heat up further inside. You let out a mhm, completely lost in the pleasure of her lips against your skin. "Use your words, doll." She removed herself from your skin, looking at you. The removal of her touch made you sigh in want. "All for you Els, y'know that." In turn, you kissed her cheek, and made your way down till you reached the buttons on her shirt. You played with the button, eyeing Ellie for a reaction, with no words said, you unbuttoned just a few, just enough for you to see the shape of her mounds. She wasn't wearing anything under her shirt, which made you draw in a breath from surprise.

Ellie stared at you with a grin, capturing every moment of your reaction. You proceeded to kiss down her chest, teasing her, knowing she'd have you where she wanted soon enough anyway. Once you got far enough, Ellie brought you back up. "Not today, baby." She held her hand on your jaw. She then proceeded to roughly kiss you, leaving you hungry as she steered you towards the sink, your back pressed into the counter. When you opened your eyes, you realized not only could you see Ellie but her back profile on full display. A mirror laid spread out behind Ellie and in front of the sinks, giving you access to every possible view.

Ellie toyed with your senses, teasing the straps of your dress when she knew all you wanted was quick release. In impatience, you whined quietly. "Hurry, Els." As the words escaped your mouth, you regretted it, feeling Ellie's warmth from her hands dissappear from your skin. Instead of sweetness, you were met with the demeanor of her stare. "Huh?" She grabbed you by your jaw harshly. "Correct yourself." Her voice came out cold. It wasn't a statement, it was a demand. " 'm sorry, Els," your voice sounded smaller with her hands pressing against your cheeks. "I want you." You paused, wondering if that was enough, but continued. "s'bad, please?" You whined. She let go of your jaw and moved back to your straps, quickly bringing the front of your dress to hang low on your waist in approval of your words.

She dipped her head down and lazily placed kissed along your neck and eventually had your left tit in her mouth. She licked skillfully and sucked with occasional noises of pops. You could feel her saliva pooling around your nipple as she continued. The way she used her tounge left you breathing heavy; she had such a strong impact on your arousal that no one else could achieve. All you could do was place your hand on her hair, pretending to guide her. With a final pop, she moved to your right tit. But not only were you met with the same pleasure, but a new one as her left hand took place in between your thighs. She continued rolling her tounge around your nipple as she caressed the skin on your thigh, leaving it prickly with need. As she got closer to your pussy, you let out a whine. You wanted her so bad.

"What's wrong baby?" Ellie said teasingly, knowing what was wrong. "Ellie" You let out a gasp as she teased your clit through your clothed pussy. "I need it." You couldn't control your train of thought as she increasingly went over your clit, each motion leaving you whining. "Need what, babe?" She removed her hand entirely and instead was squishing your thighs in wait. "I need you." You leaned in to kiss her, biting her bottom lip as your pulled away. "and your fingers." She gave a smirk. "Alright, slut." The word rolling off her tounge made the ache between your legs throb. It's as if your confirmation changed something in her. Ellie took no time in hitching your dress up, leaving it scrunched around your center and flipping you around.

The new position made you feel vulnerable. Your chest was perked up against the counter on full view in the sink mirror and your ass in the air for convenience of access to your pussy. Before giving your ache her attention, she left kisses on your back and then lowered the cloth that separated her from your pussy. The coldness of the air made warmth swell in your stomach, waiting for Ellie. She touched your waist and hips in fluid motions, massaging your body up and down till she was at the curve of your ass. She knew she was stalling, never getting where you wanted her. You shifted hoping to arouse Ellie enough to get her to the point. You could see each of her movements through the mirror that reflected off infront of you. Her hands caressed you skillfully and sensually as they flexed on your body.

As you were going to complain and be a brat, she finally touched your pussy. The contact made you shiver under her fingers. "y'look so pretty, baby." Instead of collecting slick on her fingers like you expected, she dipped her head down, licking a stripe up your slit. It sent knots in your stomach. Without you noticing, you found her tattooed arm snaking up your back to hold your hips in place. When she successfully spread your slick against the entirety of your pussy, she focused on your clit. Her tounge was god sent, it knew the direction you needed it and the pressure that stimulated you. You moaned her name pornographically, begging her to not stop. When she moved towards your entrance, you grinded your hips in hopes of relieving yourself sooner, but the pleasure soon ended as she brought her face back up.

You let out a moan of displeasure. "Please, Ellie." You begged. "can't wait 'nmore." Your desperation grew in your face and the way you grinded your legs together for some sort of stimulation. She looked you up and down, your whole body on display for her to use filthily. She brought her fingers back to your pussy, circling your clit with her ring and middle finger, then dipping them into your pussy. Her fingers stretched you out so suddenly, you whined in pain. It was only two, but they were pretty wide. "c'mon, you can take it, pretty girl." She whispered into your ear as she finally moved them. She rubbed your walls, exploring your insides, leaving you making the most dirtiest noises right into her ear. You were so high on the pleasure she was giving that you couldn't have cared less. The rush of arousal creeped up your body, making you feel warm and intense. You basked in all she was giving till she rubbed a spot in your pussy that made you feel uncontrollable. You moaned loudly, ignoring the fact you were in a restroom. Ellie took this as a sign to go even faster, giving you the satisfaction of riding to your orgasm. Once you felt the tightness form in your stomach, and the constant clenching of your pussy on Ellie's fingers, you really begged. "Oh god- Ellie." You whined. "Please," you repeated over and over. The tightness came undone, releasing even more juices on Ellie. She kept on going, rubbing and moving till you fell limp on the counter.

She licked her fingers clean, enjoying every taste that was in you. You collected some strength and picked your straps up, facing her way again. She whispered into your ear. "You did so well, filithy slut." She proceeded to kiss you passionately, making up for the kisses she couldn't give you during. She saw the way you wobbled when you tried to walk, so she told you to stay put while she grabbed wipes to clean you up; It was her mess afterall. Ellie was exactly what you needed.

#╰┈➤mich writes⭑ #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #lesbian #ellie williams fic #ellie williams

[chaotic-nick]

Train me then - Miche Zacharias x Reader

About: It started out as a joke, Miche patting his lap and asking you to sit on him. However, it somehow ended with you sitting on his face.

Warnings: Face sitting, oral (f receiving), Miche calling reader 'darling', friends with benefits

wc: 1294

“Everyone’s busy outside, huh,” she turned to him about to ask why he wasn't joining them out in the backyard. Cut off by his lazy smile, gaze stuck on her and not on anything else.

Heaving, Miche sat up straight and patted his hand on his thigh. “I can— we can be busy, sit on my lap.”

“Miche!” Not that anyone would hear him and start suspecting why they got so close all of a sudden. Wide eyes relaxed and went back to looking at his hands, “I’m heavy.”

“Uh-huh,” speaking into his —surprisingly— first cup of the night, “Not too confident sitting on my lap, how can you sit on your partner’s face.” He slumped further on her couch as he waited for her reaction. Also to hide from the slaps delivered to his arm. Correcting himself when her head snapped to him after what he said settled in, “future partner, sorry.” As if his grin would do any help in making her love him more, and be less annoyed.

Flinching when she lifted up the cup that she held with both hands and rested on her knee, she tipped the liquid into his. Not wanting to drink as usual, “Fine,” she declared, “Show me how I should sit on my future partner’s face then, Miche.”

It was his turn to become wide-eyes, unblinking too while his back sank further into the couch. Her next words, however, had put the grin back on his face, “You think anyone’s gonna notice if we leave?”

“Another training,” he laughed, standing up to put his jacket on her shoulders.

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Then how do we say it huh?” He teased, swinging his body to her, taking advantage of their height advantage to playfully jab her shoulders. “Friends with benefits?”

“Sex education, demonstrated edition?”

“Miche,” the warning glare on her face stopped him midway from finishing his sentence, “one more thing from you and my mood’s gone.” And turned away, hugging his jacket close to her as she walked quicker.

He was in many ways attractive. Not that she didn’t like him being comfortable enough to be playful with her, but, she liked it when his mouth was shut. Eyes narrowed behind his bangs, silent because he was deep in thought.

She slowed her steps when his lingering presence somehow vanished, wondering where he could’ve— knees collapsing into his forearm and her shoulders being held by his arm, (Y/n) didn’t have any time to process that he waited for her to get far before he ran to scoop her in his arms. Only hearing, “I’m having the last word, whether you like it or not.” Laughing as he ran along the sidewalk.

“Dude, what the fuck?”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re so moaning my name later.”

She hated how right he was.

. . .

 No, scratch that she hated how he was always truthful. His words never being empty. Knees planted into his mattress and hands curled around the headboard, her eyes wandered everywhere in his room.

There wasn't anything interesting in a thirty-one-year-old’s bedroom when he had his own home to decorate. Except for a few plants hanging at the side, and the box of condoms she told him to not bother putting away the last time they were together.

Training her eyes on the condoms, she dared not look below her. A heated face from excitement was enough. “Are you sure about this?” HIs question came with his hands slithering up to her lower back to give it a reassuring squeeze, green eyes trying to meet hers despite the hunched-up skirt.

“Yeah,” her heart drummed loud enough that it was the only thing she heard. By far, this was the only time felt herself become wetter than other ‘dates’ of theirs. Feeling his finger move her underwear to the side, her breath hitched at her slit being so exposed.

Exposed so quickly to him and from a new angle like this. 

A click of his tongue broke her trance, hands that softy held her back moved to the back of her thighs and gripped it with a force she liked. One that’ll leave little nail marks once he wasn’t the filthy version of himself.  ”Fuck—” he drawled into her, his nose parting her lips open.

Though she was concerned, almost feeling embarrassed. “Am I heavy?” Thighs squirming in his grasp to move away from his face. A question answered by the rough tighten of his hands around how much of her thighs he could grab.

“— How are you this wet already? Fuck.” From nails dug into the plush, his arms stretched to wrap around her thighs. “No. Stay still, yeah? Or try to at least.” The end of his sentence was muffled when his tongue darted out to try a teasing lick.

Feeling all the strength in her limbs go, a screen of tears quickly formed from how much his tongue gave her selfish cunt. “Ah~ should’ve done this sooner.” She giggled, pushing her hips lower to meet the heat in his mouth, not expecting his nose to bump into her clit.

A shaky breath as she surrendered to the satisfaction he gave her, tears sliding down at the side of her face as she shut her eyes. Knowing how he was in their many . . . spontaneous dates, the end for sex in his book was her pleasure. 

His being an option.

“Fuck,” was the word she’d hear him say in the continuous sounds of squelching as he angled to poke his tongue in deeper. A deep groan that fed her ego and sent her to a greedy haze, of wanting more.

“J-just like that,” she demanded, knees digging deeper in the pillows they rested in. Her hand that held on to the frame of the bed went up to tweak a nipple and threw her head back at the familiar tempo of pleasure.

A pop when she lifted herself away from him, barely able to balance herself. Along with any control of her body, gone was her consideration for him reaching his own climax. “I’m really close— I should probably lay down, yeah?”

Beneath her, she could only see the blankness in his eyes. Brows furrowed and sweat— or was it her slick that made his forehead look wet like that? “How about no.” She heard before being pulled down to him, this time his tongue shamelessly laying flat on her twitching hole.

“Miche, Miche . . .” she repeated in breathless whispers, forehead against the headboard.

It stopped. She couldn’t hear anything else other than her beating heart.

Her mouth fell open to a final squeal of his name until she fell silent. Eyes clenched shut while her hair curtained the side of her face as waves of a new kind of euphoria made itself known.

With legs turned into jelly, she manoeuvred herself to get off him. Give him the room to breathe— unless it was Miche’s weird kinks to be suffocated to death by her cunt. “Ah, fuck,” she sighed, balancing herself with a hand on the bed.

“You need a towel.” She finally said after looking at Miche who still laid there, hands resting on his chest and a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Observing him more, she was proven that it was in fact not sweat that pushed his bangs away from his face.

With a hum, he closed his eyes. “Let me take this in.”

“Miche,” she threw the towel he kept in the drawer of his nightstand, “you’re literally wet.”

“Wanna drown me next?” Still, with his eyes closed, Miche smiled. Knowing what was about to happen at her finger hooking the waistband of his underwear. 

“Is that an invitation or a challenge?”

“However you wanna take it, darling.”

#nick writes fics #mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #mike zakarius #aot mike #aot miche #snk mike #snk miche #aot smut #miche zacharias smut #mike zacharias smut

[freyrmichokolatte]

Barista AU where Timmy and Chester works at a Cafe, AJ is there for moral support

HEAVILY based on @pines-ghosts 10th and and 13th Timmy headcanons

#so hello #mich's ao3 #nicktoons unite #nicktoons #fairly oddparents #timmy turner #chester mcbadbat #this is actually a 2 chapter fic but idk how to change the title and put “2” without adding another chapter #mich writes

[rockyybeach]

eis und feuer (ao3) (fanfiktion.de)

Bob kehrt in den Semesterferien nach Hause zurück um Justus zu helfen, den Schrottplatz kurzfristig zu übernehmen . Dort trifft er auf einen mysteriösen Jungen, der seine freie Zeit bei seinem besten Freund Finn verbringen will. Es bahnt sich eine Sommerliebe an, die immer tiefer zu gehen scheint, wäre Peter nur nicht so verschlossen...

Oder: Peter ist ein aufstrebender Eishockey Star und Bob ist ein Journalistikstudent der keine Ahnung von Sport hat, es aber trotzdem schafft dass Peter sich in ihn, dann in die Beatles und dann in sich selbst verliebt.

#hii i did a thing #fanfiction #die drei ??? #die drei fragezeichen #peter shaw #justus jonas #bob andrews #shipping tags #bob x peter #ich habe mich immer irgendwie zurückgehalten über meine fics hier zu posten #aber who cares #ich hab das moodboard vor ewigkeiten gemacht und ich mag es immer noch warum also verschwenden lol #writing tags #das EINE mal in der ich keine gen ddf fic schreibe lol

[sun-stricken]

ITS A MOVIE!! IN MY BRAIN!! A CINEMATIC MASTERPIECE!!!

BUT I CABT FUCKING WRITE IT DOWN IM GONNA LOSE IT

i wrote smut no problem but i cant write this shit im goanajisjkqiais

#fairy tail #gray fullbuster #sun strickens ft #natsu dragneel #fairy tail fanfiction #fic writing #erza scarlet #lucy heartfilia #IM LOSINT IT #this fic means so mich to me but i cabt fuciijg wrITE

[terresdebrume]

That thing where Jamie just steps over Sam when he's down is why I don't vibe with fics that are like 'Jamie secretly cares about his teammates from the start'

As much as it pains me to admit it because I want him to be S3 Jamie all of the time, early Jamie genuinely is selfish, arrogant and going out of his way to be a dick on top of a bully -_-

#Matt watches #Ted Lasso #Jamie Tartt #Of coursebhow mich of that I'll remember when I write my fic remains to be seen x) #10n

[sparkly-skies]

This one is titled "I needed to urgently work on a presentation* so instead**, I somehow spent my whole day doing fuck all instead and the evening listening to Laura's Buam and consequently experiencing the whole spectrum of human emotions over the span of like, four to six songs" and goes out to @mondscheinprinzessin, naturally, for dragging me into this band.

#* for a subject I actively hate with a burning passion #**knowing it will lead to me crying for the x-th time this semester over being stressed and losing #my last bits of motivation for my studies that I once was very passionate about + general other life stuff i can't cope with anymore #the first one means i read the wikipedia page of passau and we all know once you google stuff related to the band but unrelated to #their music it's all over #i'm so glad i know fuck all about them otherwise or i'd be stopping myself from hopping on over to ao3 #i'd love to know what makes me want to read/write fanfic about a band or book or show or whatever. #with blind channel it was there very quickly; with lost society i still don't care; with bojan/käärija i'm interested in the authors more #than the fics; and with lonely spring it's like hmmmm. no urge to look if there's fanfic about them found anywhere in my brain. #anyway laura tell your buam to stop making sad music! they have to stop with these far too relatable lyrics! #should i just print this out and take it to my therapy appointment on friday? #mine #lauras buam #lonely spring #ich hab gedacht passau wär ne großstadt aber nein da wohnen 50.000 leute und es ist halb so groß wie dornbirn und #nur viermal so groß wie mein dorf ☠ #und ein viertel von den leuten sind studenten. die stadt muss im sommer so tot sein wie innsbruck #PASSAU IST KLEINER ALS INNSBRUCK. 35 KM^2 KLEINER. wtf. how. warum hab ich gedacht das wär ne großstadt #aber ich könnte vor meiner haustür in den inn hüpfen und mich bis passau treiben lassen. laura pspsps wie wärs mit passau auf der nächsten #tour statt augsburg? die stadt liegt genau an einem großen fluss bzw zusammenlauf von drei flüssen mit drei verschiedenen farben

[minty-mumbles]

Minty Appreciation!

Your god au and mer au live rent free in the back of my head. I like to take them out and admire them 😂 I’ve reread them both a…reasonable amount of times 👀

Seriously, though, thank you for all the writing you’ve done!

Hi Bre

What a lovely message to wake up to this morning 💚 it makes me happy to hear so often that people like the Mer AU and the god AU because those two of some of my favorite ones that I’ve written

#also UNO REVERSE #thank YOU for all the writing YOU’VE done #I bet I’ve reread some of your eldritch Wild fics more than you have mine lol #they give me mich serotonin #asks open anon on #breannasfluff

[breitzbachbea]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

God, I needed this right now, because I am about to explode from how exhausting and unfair adult life is. And I love NOTHING more than talk about my own shit. Thank you so much, nonnie, I owe you my life.

Perché in Sicilia i morti dovrebbe morire I am aware that there is technically a typo in here, but I don't have the book I quoted around, so I don't know if the typo is already in the source material. Either way, do you like ghosts? Do you like folklore? Do you like places haunted by the terrible things they've seen, objects filled with the absentminded crooked intentions of their owner? Do you like childhood friends, who are the only friends to trust each other with their terrible childhoods, but it doesn't solve anything? Perché is the story you want. Herakles and Michele are sneaking around Michele's house during a power outage, talking about the recent past and ranting about the distant one, while the are some parts in between those that are unspeakable. It weaves the past of Sicily on a whole, especially Palermo's and its hinterland, together with the fate of the Vento family and clothes the terrors of Michele's own psyche into the familiar appearance of the collective Sicilian folklore. Also, if you like two mediterranean guys being way too coddly and touchy-feely, you can give this one a go as well.

Don't Touch The Artwork I like this little pwp one-shot immensely, because despite plot being thinly on the ground, it has so many little fantastic character moments. Team Liechtenstein and Team Austria both get to shine, you get to understand both team dynamics on their own and how single members act with each other across the boundary. Not to mention that it brilliantly works out Hugo's and Alois' relationship - the toxic masculinity, the fragile 'friendship', how both are at such cross purposes with their needs and desires but agree just enough on sex itself to keep coming back to play the doomed game. Next round I'll win, they think, always. They are giving it their all and then it wasn't good enough, because it's not good enough on principle. Either way, if you want to read two guys have a handjob quickie in the restroom of the KHM in Vienna, because they find the millennia of human craft and expression boring - yeah, that's the one.

Between Me and the Goddess (and You) Will you please, for the love of God, read my Imperial Rome setting AU that doesn't rely on some Victorian decadence narrative bc these mfers believed Tacitus blindly. We don't need love slave bullshit and tyrannical hedonism, we need a couple who is so concerned for each other's health that they travel miles and miles for it. We need Harry being so close with Michele that he involves him in Magic - in something that is ought to only be between the one who calls upon a divine Entity and the Entity itself. Michele, who cannot bear a night parted from his love to fix his own troubles, in case Harry's leg gives him grief all alone. Also, curse tablets are inherently funny, so please read this SicIre trip to Aquae Sulis, where Harry wishes plague upon houses for petty theft.

No Rest For The Wicked Tu non fermami se capita! Lo sai che il mare mi agita! Ti canterò di quelle notti ad orienteeee, di quella luna che danzava tra i bazaaaaar! If you are a fan of self-indulgent fanfictions, this is the most unashamedly self-indulgent thing I ever wrote.* This story has everything: The Chaos Seven (Team Sicily and Team Ireland) go on a Turkey Vacay with the Greeks and Turks. Paddy hits his head. Harry and Soph are 100% on their bullshit as if no one else is around. Argueing. Cursing. Flirting. Hera and Sadık so deeply in love in their twisted and yet so mundane way. Italian Music and Sexy Dancing. Bridal Carrying. Please go and read it, 🌀 ohhh you want to read about TurGre and SicIre and the O'Connels soooo badly. 🌀 *All my other OC fics don't count, because I avoid tagging them Hetalia as much as I can, so I don't expect anyone to read it. Even if they are tagged hetalia, no one specifically looks for my OC ships, so while I am glad for every reader, I never write with any in mind.

A lot of messy heads No one ever reads this one, which is. fair. It's just a little episode from Paddy's life with the O'Connels, prompted by his girlfriend's old family pictures. I'm sure people who are open to everything and like family fluff will love this, regardless if they know the characters or not. But if you do and would like to see Daddy Paddy in full action, if you would liked to see a little, young teenage Harry in his moody phase and a carefree, energetic little brat of a Soph - please read this. Please see the children that the characters you've come to known, so baggage-laden, used to be.

#storie nostre #the pen is mightier than the sword #beareplies #anon #writing #hetalia #hetalia oc #harry #miche #soph #paddy #hera #sadık #hugo #alois #original fiction #somewhere in between orig fic and fanfic. meh. you'll see

[dont-f-with-moogles]

We Are The Champions

Characters: Erwin, Levi, Hange, Miche, Nanaba, Moblit. Word Count: 379 words Canonverse (but with a karaoke machine)

The staff of the Trost Arms watched dubiously as a tall man with blonde hair and dark eyebrows approached the pub’s stage. This in itself was little more than a raised platform which stood adjacent to the bar.

“This is for all of you…” Erwin turned his head away, his eyes misted. He waved a hand as though momentarily robbed of the power to speak.

“What the fuck…” Levi breathed, head lowered in embarrassment.

A piano rift began.

“I’ve paid my dues, time after time…”

A voice exploded beside him, making Levi lurch in his seat. Hange was on her feet, singing raucously along. She moved into the centre of the floor, her arms outstretched. Moblit ran at her, slipped on a puddle of split beer and stumbled into a cluster of chairs.

“We are the champions my friends…”

Miche calmly strode forward and slung an arm around Hange’s shoulders. She swayed against him drunkenly, her singing like a cat battling its death throes.

“You’re making everyone’s ears bleed, Shitty Glasses…” Levi growled. Hange and Miche swung around to him, arms outstretched as they beckoned him over.

Nanaba joined them, pulling Moblit alongside her. The four clung to each other, giggling, struggling to stand and slopping drinks over their feet as they collided with each other. With a sigh, Levi scraped his chair backwards and stood.

At the microphone, Erwin caught Levi’s eye and grinned.

“I consider it a challenge before long you might raise and I’m gonna lose!” Erwin punched the air before bringing his fist towards his chest. The caterwauling of his chorus grew louder.

Levi approached the others, only to be yanked forward by the collar of his shirt. He found himself hauled closer by the crook of Hange’s arm, his face pressed into the warm skin of her neck. The others were yowling at the tops of their voices. Despite the cacophony, the sticky floor and the glowering bar staff, Levi could not quite suppress a smile. His arm circled under Hange’s; the other reached for Miche’s waist. He swayed along with them and sang.

“No time for losers because we are the champions…”

“That’s enough!” shouted the barman, seizing the bell and ringing it violently at the scouts. “Clear off, military riff raff!”

#not a prompt but I just thought of this little scene #one bottle and two bailey's with ice #quality may not be entirely up to standard #I'm gonna go and lie down - this was fun #attack on titan #attack on titan fic #attack on titan fanfiction #levi ackerman #hange zoe #erwin smith #miche zacharias #nanaba #moblit berner #aot veterans #drunk drabbles #my writing

[astroels]

E. Williams Drabble

Ellie giving aftercare after sex <3

inspired by cigarettes after sex

wc, 0.8k

overstimulation, aftercare, pet names, not proofread

Ellie had helped you reach your climax multiple times already. She used different approaches, whether it was using her fingers, your vibrator, her strap, and grinding herself on you. Each time left you breathless, whining and begging for more. The best part was hearing her quiet moans and pathetic noises of wanting to continue fucking you. She'd ask you so lovingly. "C'mon, one more time for me, angel?" And like a puppy, you agreed each time. You let her consume you entirely, without regards of how messy you'd gotten.

Your body was wet and sticky with the mix of sweat you'd accumulated. Your face was planted on her pillow with your ass in the air. Ellie's left arm snaked to the curve of your back, keeping you in place as her face was hidden in your pussy, while her tattooed arm massaged your thigh, using it to bury herself further. Your nerves felt so numb from how much they'd been toyed with all night. Despite you feeling dizzy from the pleasure, you wanted to reach it just one more time.

Her tounge licked you up and down, teasing your entrance and providing your clit with its necessary attention. She sucked on each part of your pussy with delight, leaving pops when she stopped and groans of how good you tasted. Your breathe started faltering and becoming louder when the familiar tingling bubbled in your core. Ellie helped keep you stable when she felt your legs buckle in the weakness of your upcoming pleasure. As soon as you felt your orgasm coming, it crashed, leaving you moaning her name. "Ellie-- Please." You said desperately, wanting her to help you ride it out. Anything else that came out of your mouth was unintelligible.

When she removed her face from your pussy, you crashed down and flipped over to lay on your back, leaving her still in between your legs. You looked up, catching your breath, but eventually looked at her. She looked so pretty with her freckles flushed over with tints of pink. Her hair was stuck to her forehead in a chaotic mess that only you could've caused. You assumed she was also admiring you since she started giving you one of those "god im so in love with you" smiles, which always led you to be giddy back at her.

The quiet moment shortly ended as she brought her face to yours. Ellie gave you a kiss, a wet, but loving one. "I'll be back, babe." She got off of the bed and into the restroom. At her absence, you closed your eyes, resting your body. You were distrusted momentarily at the feeling of a wet rag on you. You shivered at the coldness that it brought and shot a glance at Ellie. "Sorry," she said sincerely.

She started with your thighs, gliding the towel under and over them. She made sure you were looking before planting kisses all over them. "You're perfect baby." She skipped your pussy, moving onto your stomache and chest. You could've sworn she used this as an excuse to get another pass at your tits when she gave them kisses all around to the nipple after she'd cleaned them off of sweat. On top of that, her mischievous grin had gave you confirmation. She was so sweet to you and ever so gentle while she helped you up so she could wipe your back and neck. She did your pussy last, making sure to clean up all the mess she made to the best of her ability. Of course, she left a kiss there too.

Although the cleaning job wasn't perfect, it was only for the night. You'd both hop in the shower in the morning anyways. After discarding of the towel. She gave you a cup of water and a bowl of fruit to share. You loved her with all you had. "You're officially the best girlfriend ever," you joked as you picked up a piece. As Ellie hopped into bed next to you, she replied. "Huh, didn't know I had competition." The both of you were naked but secure in each other's presence. You gave her a little joking eyebrows raise while leaning into her head, getting comfortable.

You spent the little while eating filled with light conversation, as you both were tired from going all night. When it was time to sleep, you decided to be the big spoon, Ellie needed her love too afterall. Your face was buried at the crook of her neck, your arm snaked around her body, holding her hand near her chest. "I love you, Ellie." You pressed a kiss on her shoulder and breathed in the smell the both of you carried. You couldn't see her, but you knew her smile grew in the dark. "I love you too, baby." It came out barely a whisper as she drifted to sleep, but you loved her softness. You loved feeling like her protector for once, and you loved being the one to hold her to sleep.

#╰┈➤mich writes⭑ #ellie x you #ellie williams #lesbian #ellie williams x reader #tlou 2 #ellie x reader #tlou ellie #ellie williams fic #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #sometimes ellie needs after care too #next drabble idea ?! #idk its late and i love ellie so

[chaotic-nick]

Chapter Three: There's so much on (y)our mind(s)

Chapter summary: both of them are simping for each other it's annoying, really. Jk. Y/n finally attends one of the flats parties and Mike's asking what's weighing on his head.

wc: 6092

Warnings: Mike and Y/n finally sleep together huheueh

Other characters: the Levi squad appears ~finally ~

Note: thank you to @aizenhours for beta reading chapter 2 and 3 for this, here's to finishing this before April

Masterlist - chapter 4

Ackerman Manor, Shiganshina, Paradis

Sousterre, Paradis

The realisation of Y/n’s stay reaching its third month came to Kenny’s mind once he’d opened his eyes and heard Kuchel’s playlist from the open window of his bedroom. It made sense to him why that thought came hard, he’d been putting off the lunch that Uri and Kuchel suggested since she’d arrived. Her grandmother’s face and her mother’s attitude, that was something he would never imagine. Or be prepared for. Frankly speaking, he doesn’t know if he’d ever be in the mental state face the girl.

Or sit through a lunch when the ghosts of his past were across him.

Family duty is still a duty. That he reminded himself once he’d seen the thick folder hanging on the desk of his office.

 “Kuchel,” he called from the kitchen’s wide open windows, coffee mug up to his face and today’s paper tucked under his arm. She only spared him a glance, testing his patience this — late — morning.

“Kuchel.”

With another huff, she threw the comforter over the line with irritation and bent down to reach for the basket. Her hold on it told him how ready she was to chuck it through the window to land on his face. “What now?”

“Pyxis and Zackly’s waiting for an answer, are they gonna see her or what?”

“Let them keep asking then,” not as annoyed as she expected, Kuchel still threw the basket through the window with a lighter force to it. “Hold on I’m coming in.”

“You could’ve taken this with you!”

“Easier to throw it at you.” She laughed, running in through the door. “Like I said, let them keep asking.”

“She’s an Escarra. The only one with any seriousness in her life, too,” he grumbled into his cup. 

“I’m an Ackerman, you’re an Ackerman. What’s new.” Having a change of heart, Kuchel sat down and spoke in a softer to explain. As if it’d erase a wrinkle from his forehead. “She’s still a kid, let her be that. Do you know what she asked me, Ken? ‘Ms. Kuchel, can you please make me fried rice’, and a college student.”

“I understand letting her adjust here. And to this life.” He sighed. “Unless you’re being more of a mother to her than to your own son.”

Swallowing her anger, Kuchel’s face showed him that he’d gone too far with his words again. “No, Kenny. I’m doing what I promised we’d do. And taking care of her is what I only know.”

“Is the restraining order your idea?”

“No,” her eyes narrowed over the rim of her glass, “she hates her extended family. Saw the opportunity to cut them off forever, and took it.”

He sighed a low “Sorry.” Before turning to his newspaper, “How about January?”

“You lost me, what? January?”

“I talk to her in the morning, introduce the other families to her in the afternoon. January of next year before her classes start.”

“Mhm, she’s in class now,” she looked at the clock to confirm her guess, “Wonder how she’s doing. HA! I should visit her! You can come too unless you haven’t . . .”

A look above his second cup silenced Kuchel.

Suffering.

In silence.

That’s what she was doing in class. Face resting on her palm, and never questioned why her brain chose to tune in to their conversation rather than the class presentations.

“I mean listen, listen,” started Eld, he always started the unhinged conversations when Gunther focused his eyes on the game below the desk. “This is actually important, do you have condoms on you?”

“Now?”

“In your wallet.”

“Now, now?”

“Yes,” hope made him sit straight, watching when Gunther hovered over to reach for his wallet.

Only to open it and say, “Nah, I’m a virgin. Go to the free—”

“The banana flavours gave me an allergic reaction.”

In the first two weeks of classes, she was already sure she’d survive sitting behind them, quietly listening to their conversations. Today, when she woke up after a sleepless night and started the day with no effort to ‘behave’ herself, her cheeks hallowed out and a hand went up to her to cover her mouth.

The other hand gripped her pen harder, laughing to herself as their heads slowly turned to her. Both of them with agony written on their faces.

“Urusai, you two are . . .” came a new voice from the same row of seats.

Mouths agape and eyes wide open, they all turned to the front. The girl who offered to post lecture notes in the group chat and was voted to be their representative (when no one else raised their hand) turned to them in her seat. “No way, you understand us, too, Prez?”

“Ok wait, no. This is too much. How do you run out of condoms? No, how much sex do you have.”

Gunther shrugged, adding, “The amount he’s talking about is making it seem non-existent.”

“That’s not normal?” Asked (Y/n), bringing their attention to her. “You’re a sex addict?”

“No, that’s why it’s concerning.”

“Ahh,” Eld sat up in hopes that they’d stop talking about his sex life, “So uhh, we understand each other? Japan-raised, too?”

. . .

It was the first time that she walked out of the arts building without her gaze set straight or sometimes, searching for Mike in the practice fields as she avoided the rush of people. She was content with walking to the side, listening as they each explained why— of all people on the campus— they could speak Japanese.

“Eh, same old story.” Gunther began. Only asking, “You guys don’t know?” when their silence meant they anticipated an explanation beyond that.

“We just met . . . this is the ice breaker, ice breaker-ing.”

“Right, uhh. So, listen. There’s this place at the ocean sides of Paradis where most Japanese vendors would take off. That’s the history behind that, and then the world wars happened, and Japanese families fled to those rivers and acted like merchants. I’m fourth-generation Japanese” two finger guns thrown at them to emphasise, ”and I can cut your hair if you want.”

“Ha?” Turned Eld,  slowing down in his steps. “You weren’t joking when you said that was your fun fact? ‘I’m Gunther and I can cut hair.’ ”

“Woah, you really can change your voice,” gasped (Y/n), eyes wide in amusement. Biting back, ‘Can you do a hentai voice?’ No, they just met. That’s too of a wild version of her.

Gunther only shrugged, wearing a prideful smile. “That’s how my great-grandmother put food on the table when we started zero.” Turning to Petra, “What about you?”

“Embassy workers, they made me go to a public school so I can adapt to the language.”

“Eh, wish they did that to me,” said Eld, swinging his backpack’s strap over his shoulder. “Mine were in media, put me in the international school across the company and hired a tutor for Japanese. Double school.”

“Oh,” she nodded, then looked past them to see that Mike’s back was turned to her. “I went to an international school, too. Well, Indian-international.”

“You still know Japanese.”

“When you’re parents are gone for the entire day you learn it from your surroundings. I was an outside kid. I was playing chess with my sensei. And then they just adopted me in the community.” Outside home and always inside the archery dojo until Sensei took to himself to drop her home with Masaki was what she wanted to say. But instead, she only suggested, “we should sit together from now on.”

“And talk in English,” added Petra with a finger pointed at Eld, “you sound like a Tokyo boy. No offense,” moving to Mitabe, “you have a different dialect,” then pointed to herself, “I can’t talk normally for too long.”

“You’re already rusty?”

“Nah, nah, Gyaru-pet(ra) might take over when I’m too into it, jyan.”

Two weeks later, October -

Quiet. 

That’s how Eld would describe the two who sat by his side, (Y/n) scribbling to his left and Petra’s manicured nails tapping on her screen. Which he learnt was Twitter discourse later on. The quiet president of their batch was violent on a Twitter space, the perfect recipe for an online controversy one day.

Both of them shared the same aura of calmness. Their faces were far opposites from sharing any similarities. It was Gunther who nailed the perfect description for it. ‘Serene’s for Petra’ and ‘(Y/n) is melancholy’. 

‘Both shouldn’t be crying, it’d break your heart.’

For a while, Eld agreed. Surely the two of them would have a coming age of moment sometime in the four-year course of their college lives.

And every day when he walked into class and took his seat in between the two of them, they grew comfortable with each other. Every word that came out of their mouths crossed a letter off of Gunther’s description.

“Someone already caused you so much pain. Might as well get back at their times two— Twice the pain. Destroy him little by little, get me?” Petra furiously nodded her head in agreement, carried away by (Y/n)’s reasoning again. 

“Who hurt you?” A question that was ignored when (Y/n) brought her thumb and pointer finger together to form a triangle against her face, highlighting the area between her nose and eyebrows. 

“This area will hurt the most. Like one time, wait we’re talking about your confessions, ne?”

Eld’s troubled mind was roped in, deciding that there was no use trying to make sense of the first page he listened to, “One time a football player only wanted to ask me out just so he could say he dated a Gaijin. And it was rare to see two G’s in one. Gyaru and Gaijin. How low. If we were raised in the same prefecture, I just know I’d tell you to wait for him at the vending machines.”

Great one resorted to violence, and the other enabled it. Annoying how no one would buy his story when he showed them their pictures. What was it that the adults always said?

“Tell me who your friends are, and I’ll tell you who you are.”

“Eld’s talking to the wind again, ne.” Pointed (Y/n) out, pursing her lips together to, “woooo, I’m the wind god answering your call.”

“He’s like that in the dorms, too, heard his grocery list last night.” 

“Uh-huh.” She kicked at nothing, trying to make the cats around their spot look her way. “Make sure you have a shaver for . . . sexy escapades.”

“Or a year’s supply of condoms for sexy escapades.”

Gunther deemed the topic interesting enough for him to put his switch down and spoke, “But, really,” with a finger pointed at Eld, “I think what kind of anime talks about the person better.”

Shrugging, he turned to Petra first. “What do you li—”

“Hentai, ehe,” was the peace sign she threw an effort to distract him from the confession. No, she’s not one to confess. She just talks into the air and hopes to traumatise whoever listened.

“EH? You watch it? I just read doujins and manga—like the explicit ones, too! All online, I can’t have it physically yet,” cut (Y/n) off. “I do watch, like, anime-anime, like shoujo. Shounen. Anything, really.”

“Really, now.” He raised an eyebrow. ”What’s your favourite?”

A deadpan expression on her face and in unison with Gunther’s voice, “Your mom.”

Their heads were thrown back, laughing at the sync of their minds while Petra patted 

Eld’s back. “I think it’s too early on to be sharing a single brain cell, here we are though.” Noticing the hesitating figure of a familiar face looking at (Y/n) from afar they poked at her side.

Contorting her torso to face them, “He’s looking at you. One of the varsity players.”

Unmoving her eyebrows rose up in excitement, “Oh! That’s Mike! . . .Zacharias? Mike Zacharias?” She said not needing to see who it was as her fingers curled against the wooden table for her to abruptly sit up straight and grab her bag from its place. “Please excuse me.”

“MIKE!” She called for him, nearly running into other students.

“Hey,” he huffed up, holding so many questions in his mind when their gap closed. The smile that he hoped to see on such a solemn face was there, could be the people she finally met. “What’s up?”

Her hand guided his hand to grab the plastic container of food. “I made too much last night and I figured, why not? Just . . . this is my container, not yours. Wait,” bowing her head in search of the other container, giving him time to look at the table where she sat at.

They were . . . interesting. And he could only hope that they weren’t as invasive as his only group of friends.

“Now, this is yours— really yours.” She grinned giving him the lunch box of sandwiches and snacks in the other compartment. “You don’t have to give me the container back or anything.”

“Thank you!” Nodding his eyes kept her from leaving the conversation, even though she was turning to the side.

“Uh, you have practice, right? We can just text or . . .”

“Kinda miss having you by my side, just existing.” Before his mind could process the semi-confession, he moved them to the side and leaned onto the barbed wire of the fields. “There’s a party and if you by a miracle don’t injure yourself again—”

“Oh, great! I’ll definitely go this time. I’ll see you there, right?”

“Shoot me a text, I can wait for you outside.”

(Slightly) Jumping in her spot was something he never expected nor imagined, “Yes please, I’d be so lost.” 

“MIKE YOU CAN TALK TO HER WHEN YOU INVITE HER—” a whistle, and something his teammates said that had them laughing.

Her body turned to the side, and she waved. “Practice well I guess, and I’ll see you Saturday,”

“Right, right. You too.”

“What’s so great about college parties? Besides the alcohol and stuff. Is it a big deal or—?” Was her first question when she returned to their table, debating on throwing her bag on Eld’s chest, who laid comfortably over his and Gunther’s combined jackets.

No, he’s suffered just enough today.

“It’s the alcohol and stuff, but frats. Cool kids of any university. Sororities, too.”

Joining them at their feet, “That’s all?”

“I’ve been to a few in the first month, it’s not that much,” Petra began, “You go be with Mike. That was him, right? Then while you’re seeing all these people with the music here and there, just observe. And then compare it to when it's Halloween in Japan.”

“Specifically Halloween?”

“Alright, too much. Just after-school club activities. Ah, mine was going to claw machines, I miss those.”

“I went to an international school.”

“Then compare it to something wild there.”

“Uhm, hmm? Can’t think of any wow,” throwing one last glance at Mike whose attention was on warm-ups added another mental image of him in her mind. “Well, guess I’m going huh.”

Pi Kappa Alpha  Paradis Chapter

Navigating around the chapter and trying to look straight ahead in the sea of sweaty party-goers somehow brought in a weird feeling of home. Home being Japan in general. And this party was a replay of the many concerts she and Fumiko went to during summer fests to watch their vkei bands. It was funny how the vow she made of going to crowded places was broken in the first semester of her first year.

Still though.

She’s not and will never attend another party like this. Even if it was one that was hosted in Pardis, parties were a reminder of her friends. Friends were home. Unfortunately, she was painfully— almost medically homesick.

And she didn’t want to embarrass herself by crying somewhere in the corner because of it.

A cold liquid being flung near where she was hit the back of her shirt followed by a panicked “sorry,” from a sorority girl, eyes wide with guilt. The target was by (Y/n)’s right. Assuming what the situation was like, her eyes searched the kitchen in front of her.

There he was, hand wrapped around a cup that swished with whatever alcohol was in it.  Or poured into. “Mike!” Arms crossed and turned to the other pledges he towered over.

Turning to reveal the panicked expression on her face, he nodded over his shoulder to them. “(Y/n)!” Said Mike in the tone she called his name out in, inspecting if anything had happened to her. “You okay? Anything? Shit, sorry for losing you in the crowd, I was starting to worry about you.” 

“I’m alright,” she said with hands waving as if that would calm him down. Hovering her hand over the row of water bottles, her eyes held a look of question. Opened one after he picked one from the boxes under the table— just to be sure. “I just wanted to say bye before going home.”

“Already?” Then he remembered what she’d said when he invited her before. “Was it too much for you? It is for me, so I just escape outside.” He tried, briefly turning to one of the open doors.

“Ahh, no.” Leaning her back against the wall, she watched the crowd she pushed through enjoy themselves, cringing when she saw a few share drunken kisses. There was a brief debate about whether she should tell him how different it was back home. Again though, she assumed that she was tired of Mike hearing all about Japan and settled to saying, “Station closes at eleven, so that’s that. See you on Tuesday?”

Waving his hand, she stood up to pat her pockets to make sure she had everything with her.“ Wait,” he mumbled. Phone. Check. Wallet with one hundred. Check. Her train pass was missing.

Mike jumped in his place as he looked up and saw the grimaced expression on her face.“Okay, at least let me walk you there.”

“Thank you,” discarding the bottle on her way out, the night’s breeze finally cooled the layer of sweat that was on her neck despite the air conditioning inside. “I need another train pass. Lost it while I was in there.”

“You the type to have emotional attachments to little things or what?”

Angling her neck to meet his face, she realised how red his face was with the glow of the streetlamps on the side of his face. “What if the train pass was actually huge, but you’re just super tall.”

In his flat tone, “Ha Ha Ha, that’s so funny. You are such a creative genius, (Y/n).”

“Thank you, thank you. It’s difficult being me.”

. . .

Just as she accepted her fate of walking home, hope made itself known when an empty train rattled the tracks. “But that just went.” She reasoned with the ticket lady who’d been throwing an attitude before she could even begin the question.

“If you’re adventurous, try brisk walking to the next station it’s going to, dear,” the smile (Y/n) wore out of politeness had never faltered so quickly, brows furrowing at the woman. Was that a joke? Or a disguised weight loss advice, which, truthfully was suited to come from someone at that age.

The hands that rested on the counter turned to fists that kept her patience in check, still the lady on. “Trains stop at ten-thirty on weekends. Keep that in mind next time,” she bared her teeth, showing the red lipstick stains in a poor attempt at a smile.

Fists falling to the side, (Y/n)’s “Thank you,” said through gritted teeth was barely heard. ‘Bitch.’ was mouthed as she turned to walk back to Mike who insisted on waiting before she boarded a train.

“What’s up?” He asked following her down the steps, one hand out of his pocket to catch her by her wrist if she tripped on the narrow steps. How she did this twice every day was a mystery to him.

“Late.” Unsure. She looked around. Thinking of a solution to this. 

“If you want,” Miche slowed down his steps when he caught up to her, “you can sleep on my bed.”

Deep down she already wanted to squeal a thank you, latch on his torso and squeeze him. The careful side of her, however, made her eyes the size of a dipping sauce bowl and turn to give him a look that would make Mike say those words again.

No. Not again. He didn’t want his words to be the death of him. He’s already made a fool of himself the first time she saw the chapter.  His eyes matched hers in size as he slowly explained in a rising tone, “Not in that way, I’d drive you home but I’m already under the influence. Sleeping at the chapter could be your last resort? If you want to? Like, I’ll sleep on the floor you can take my bed! All of it.”

She stared at him longer. Relishing his panicked expression and how the tips of his ears turned red before sighing. “I’m hungry, I’ll think about my options after I have something.”

“Yeah,”

“Didn’t you eat anything before?”

“Nah, first-years help out in setting up the place. . .” he opened his hand, putting a finger down as he recalled what they were told to do. ”Letting people in. Checking if they’re actually invited. Nightclub duties kind of thing. Takes the whole night actually, not to mention-”

“Mike!” Behind them another empty train passed, reminding her of the dilemma she was in. “Let’s go eat.”

“I smell like shit, resto’s gonna kick us out.” And also that issue.

Reaching behind her to pull on the back of her shirt, she showed him the alcohol stain that landed on her. “Yeah, same. I was caught in a crossfire.” Put both her hands on his back with a ‘tack!’ to it and began pushing him in a direction she didn’t know,  “But I’m hungry as fuck— let’s go.”

“I’ll pay you back.” He mumbled.

“Don’t need to,” then stopped to walk beside him, “let’s stop at a pharmacy when we find one, ‘kay? Need sleepover stuff.”

“Sure.” For once, Mike was glad that he wasn’t spending a night at the chapter tolerating a party. And was instead stuck with her. Discovering how higher her energy levels are at night. He giggled with an exaggeration to it, bumping his hips to her torso, “Your first college sleepover, what are we gonna do?”

When she looked at him with mischief that matched his Mike was sure that the high of living on his own began to wear off. He was becoming his old self again who liked being with only one person— how strange, really.

“We’re gonna braid each other’s hair and talk about boys, and then do each other’s makeup.”

“Cool, cool, cool. Always wanted to feel pretty.” 

Ichido Ramen Shop

There was a swirl of too many emotions at once that simultaneously tried to hug the image of a bowl in Mike’s head. On the table was a bowl of noodles swimming in golden broth with vegetables— fresh and chopped that decorated around it. It was something that came to life from pictures of instant packaging.

This was ramen. Looking up in question, he was met with (Y/n) staring at him. She said, “The green square is seaweed called Nori. I’ll eat it if you don’t want it.” in a tone that sounded more like she demanded it. “First time?”

The bowl of a new dish was ignored for the sight he couldn’t remove himself from. (Y/n) emptying most of the chilli powder’s contents into her bowl. Concern made his eyebrows furrow together, “Can you eat that?” His answer was her shaking more of the chilli into her bowl until its surface was covered, even the noodles weren’t visible. “(Y/n). Dude. That’s like, next-level spice. Are you okay?”

“No, it’s not.” Handed him a fork from the tissue box in between that doubled as a utensil holder ”Eat before it gets cold.”

He wanted to tell her so many things. Things brought by the red-black bowl of steaming greatness. Ask her the stories that came with the bowls of ramen she’s had in Japan. “Where do I start?” And, if he was the first person in Paradis who she had a bowl with.

Not that he’d expect to be the first one, but it’d surely make his heart flutter if that was the answer. “We can start with a picture. Hold the bowl and I’ll take a picture for you.” She said after swallowing more than what she could take. Reaching for her phone, a waitress that had been watching them began to walk towards their table. “This your first?”

“We can take a picture for you, miss. Both of you?” Said the girl whose beaming smile narrowed her eyes to slits.

“Ah!” Jumping in her seat, (Y/n)’s eyes widened, the phone being held in both her hands. “Nihonjin desu ka? (Are you Japanese?)”

And then a transformation from a reserved (Y/n) to being more lively. Her eyes wide with delight and a smile stretching across her face was an image that made Mike’s mind stop functioning. To have it burned in his brain was its want, not caring that the noodles he had swirled around began to slip off his fork and fall back into the broth, creating mini splashes that hit his hand.

“Hold your bowls up and try to sit together!” She said, stepping back.

. . .

“Wow,” he said, swinging the plastic bag of her impromptu shopping spree at the pharmacy. “You should speak Japanese more, you sound so . . . it sounds crisp, yea. That’s the word.”

“Thank you,” her face scrunching up at the sight of the chapter still coloured with lights and the faint sound of music was noticed by Mike, before it turned into a puzzled one. “I’m in Paradis! Why would I talk in Japanese? The fuck?!”

A shared look as the beginning of hearty laughs sat above their lungs, Mike throwing his head back and a hand on his chest when (Y/n) snickered. Their laughs turned to cackles when he nearly tripped on his own. “Oh wow, I love being ‘round you, makes me feel so light.”

“No,” she nodded, feeling the ache in her cheeks, “It’s me who should say that. I actually feel like my high school self. No, high school was hell. I just feel very me. Very (Y/n) around you.”

“You too?! I was realising it from, like, way back!” Slowly, Mike walked backwards. Hands behind his head, not wanting to break the eye contact between them. “Won’t your boyfriend be mad?”

“Huh?”

“Won’t your partner,” Ah. Yes, that’s what their teachers always taught them. He was proud of himself for noticing it before it was pointed out. “Won’t your partner be mad?”

“Never had one.”

“Like never ever never?”

“Yeah,” she chose her next words carefully, “funny thing was when I went in the pharmacy they pointed at the family planning section. They probably thought you and I were a thing.” Though that didn’t make him giggle.

“You never had a boyfriend? Ne.Ver?”

“Never. Ever.” The change in his face only pushed her to ask, “Is there an age quota for that?”

“No, I mean like, to each their own.” Teasing her he bent to her level, bangs covering his eyes. ”Wow, but why?”

Knowing what direction she’d push him in, Mike moved to the side. “Why like . . . never had a boyfriend.”

“Exactly!” Pulling her to her side, closer to him to serve as his armrest. “You’re pretty—”

To serve as his armrest or to hide the blush reaching down his neck when he confessed it.

“Me? Pretty? That’s new. Wow. Thank you, Mike.” That was another door to her personality that he unknowingly unlocked.

“Never got called that?”

“It was always cute, rabbit, kitty. Not Pretty.”

“Rabbit, I don’t get it. You look more like those tired cats in morning cartoons. Like you don’t care if the world is . . .” switching from using the crown of her head as an armrest, his hand came down to ruffle it. “But wow. You have the looks? Really?”

”It was only crushes, most of them were on seniors who left that year. Never did anything relationship-y. Was scared it’d pull me even lower.”

“You did tell me that part you’re—” the expression on her face when she looked up made him slow down to properly choose his words. In a careful tone he continued, “— the next to graduate on both sides of your family, so all of them are watching me and then you under so much academic pressure in high school.”

“Oh, the school played a role in it, too, don’t worry.” Stretching her arms, the chapter right in front of them and the smell of sweaty bodies mixed with combinations of alcohol made her nose scrunch more. “Can we walk around more?”

Only a heavy hand, gently landed on her head to turn her around. “Let’s go.”

 . . .

“You take the extra pillow, I’ll roll one of my blankets to put in between us.” He suggested from where he stood. Back against the cabinets, fully convinced that he’d comically trip and land somewhere inappropriate. “You comfortable there?”

She was unmoving above his bed. Hands folded above her tummy, eyes fighting the urge to sleep. “Yes,” moved to make room for him, ”and thank you.” 

(Y/n) was nothing more than a friend. A pretty one that was yet to realise that, unaware of the world. Even the red look on his face as he dragged his foot one after the other. Dropping the rolled blankets between them, her face turned to him with a look that made him still in place. “You aren’t gonna sleep yet or . . .?”

Awkwardly bent down to the bed’s level and hands on the mattress, his mind was quick to remind him that his face would plant over his if he dared trip. Or take another step. He prayed. One that would make the god it’d find question if it was really a genuine one. He prayed that he wouldn’t be so stupid and lang to her face, stealing her first kiss. “I am,” he answered with a slight tremble, “Gotta change though.”

Cool, cool. That’s right. He can do that.

Turning his back to grab his change of clothes. “Is it weird to say that I feel safe with you?” 

Opened his cabinet’s doors even though she couldn’t see him— or how his face was completely consumed by red. “Mhm, honoured even.” 

“What if you wake up and I’m crushing you?” She asked in the most serious tone he’s ever heard from her.

“Then I’ll roll another blanket to put between us.” 

“Is it another Jurassic park blanket?”

“No,” slowly he sat at his side, back turned to her. “It’s space-themed.”

“Thanks for letting me stay the night.” She sighed into the pillow surrounding her head. “Night, Mike.”

“Ye-yeah,” between the first night of moving in and this, he was already sure that it was this night that’d give him dark bags.

Only the street light outside illuminated his room through the cracks of his window and a concerned Mike who wondered if she usually slept still or if she was— “Still awake?” 

A muffled, “Yea,” over the sweatshirt’s sleeve that she put over her mouth. 

“It’s the party,” he sighed, feeling a surge of guilt for putting her in a situation like this.

“I’m surprised you can sleep through these, or this many people under one roof.”

“You know, give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be awake from my own snores.”

“Really?”

“Yup.” He let himself rest his back, pushing the rolled blankets towards her. The relief brought out another yawn from him. “You know what’s hard to believe? That you don’t have a boyfriend at all. Never.”

“Again?” She giggled. “Never. Don’t plan on having one until I graduate.”

“Yea, yea. I’m sure once you go to the library you go out having one.”

“I wanna study there.”

“So you can find a boyfriend? See, knew it.”

“Aha ha, no. I don’t have anyone to study with there.”

“Should’ve told me sooner,” he said. “I study there almost every day, actually.”

“Pfft—”

“Really, it’s too loud here on some days. So, yeah. Library’s the way.”

“I see.”

“You can join me there . . .” he quickly followed with, “If you want to.”

“Yes, yes and you can be my boyfriend connoisseur.”

“Deal!”

College of Arts, Pardis University

For Eld who was used to the Tokyo commute— even considering himself a survivor of it after he moved abroad, the frat party that weekend took so much from him. He denied it for the entire day and only admitted to it when he slept through today’s last alarm.

“Hey!” Mike who became a familiar face dared greet him through his helmet, waving his arm up high.

Both of them grumbled a “Morning,” all that he and Gunther could do was nod. Continuing their way to class.

Like them, Petra was quiet too. Her head cast downwards at her desk and eyes wide open in an attempt to keep herself awake. “Hey,” said the two taking their seats in front of her.

“Did anyone eat breakfast?” And then her. “I wanna get breakfast, let’s go.?What time does class start?”

Petra’s head which was weighed down by regret for leaving (Y/n) behind in the kitchen, shot up. Nearly yelling, “Where did you go?”

“Oh yeah, you disappeared somewhere. I was at the staircase almost asleep.” Eld dared brag with Gunther holding up his phone, ready to show him pictures.

“He actually fell asleep on their staircase.”

Swatting a hand at them to shut up, Petra pushed again. “I was worried you were uncomfortable. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright. Mike and I—” pausing once she saw their tired faces turn to scandalous looks“— ate ramen”

“And then I had the best sleep of my life.” 

“DUDE!”

“You need to tell us—”

“How did it lead up to being the best sleep of your life, hmm?”

. . .

They could count the days of how long they’ve been friends, instead, they only sat at their spot outside the arts building. There was nothing special about a table identical to all the other ones around it, but throwing their bags in and sitting at a specific angle, it’s an amazing view of the lacrosse team.

Lean in a little bit closer and you’d hear the senior students yelling profanities at the new students. Even questioning their skills.

“So you slept next to him,” Petar confirmed again. “Next. Not with?”

“Yeah. Next to him.” Emphasized (Y/n). “Please, it’s not that big of a deal, really.”

“Frats are drama cesspools,” threw Gunther. “Dunno, that’s what my older sister told me. That’s why I never joined.”

Eld who was already busy with next week’s assignment set his technical pens down, stretching his hands. “Yeah, my dad was a frat bro. The way he pushed me into almost joining his old fraternity seemed off.”

“Oh,” Nodded (Y/n), asking herself if she was about to regret that decision. “Does it help if I say that I see him as . . . average-looking?”

“Jesus Christ,” breathed Petra. “Poor thing you really need your glasses. He’s got that— that look. It’s just there.”

“Which one? Dude only looks between angry and excited.”

“You know,” Eld said, picking up his pen again. “This feels so much like a shounen manga.”

“The time I woke up in a frat house and found the blond demigod attractive.”

A slap to the poor table, “HAH! You called him a demigod, he is attractive to you.”

“Dewa nai.”

“You say that now, but deep down in your heart there’s something there.” Petra teased, high-fiving Eld as they wheezed together, heads nearly meeting their folded legs. 

“Knock knock it’s me the one who loves you,” laughing progressed to slapping each other’s shoulders in amusement. (Y/n) only sighed as she fought the voice that told her to look past their heads and see what Mike was doing.

They were late. 

While they assumed that she’d like him after a few more parties spent together and laughing together over the shoujo-esque confessions she’d make . . .

(Y/n) already knew that she liked Mike.

And she accepted that she liked him.

Tagging: @barbossa2319 @ririthu @nathalunalune @1252291 @shrekisshrimpthesimp

#nick writes fics #leave my mind by nick #mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharius x you #miche zacharius x reader #aot fanfiction #aot x y/n

[freyrmichokolatte]

I have decided that I hate gay people (Translation: fuck you writers block)

#mich shitpost #for context: #I'm writing an erasercloudmic fic #and I ran out of ideas on how to start a date #HERE'S THE PROMPT IF ANYONE HAS IDEAS #So Hizashi being a bi disaster he is didn't realize he was staring at Shouta #that's it #idk how to start the date #like they met up on said place #said place is the arcade #I already have an idea for EraserCloud's date I'm just stuck on Erasermic because Hizashi has to be gay #erasercloud #erasermic #erasercloudmic

[crazy-walls]

6, 19, 26, 38 & 55 for the fanfiction ask game? 💕

6 What’s the last line you wrote? - Betont gleichgültig zuckte Cotta mit den Schultern, als wäre nichts dabei, aber der wütende Zug um seinen Kiefer war nicht zu übersehen.

19 Do you enjoy creating OCs or do you prefer to stick solely to canon characters? - i definitely prefer using canon characters - and if i need other/more characters for some reason i try to use really minor ones from canon

26 What’s your least favorite part of the writing process? - planning/outlining. it *can* be rewarding as hell, but most of the time it's just annoying, which doesn't help with uhhh certain fics. other than that, connecting the bits & pieces i've already written

38 What is your most self-indulgent posted story? - oh that's tough! maybe Never Ending Questions (heh. hands. hehe.) or A way to escape where I came from (which I'm just very soft for) ^^

55 Have you noticed any patterns in your fics?  Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc? - i have but i am very tired so all i can think of rn is soft (hurt/)comfort, HANDS, being near the ocean/being able to hear waves

fanfic writing asks

#thank you 😘😘 #ask game #writing #well this got me to write like 4 sentences bc the last one would've been a major spoiler #außerdem mag ich verschachtelte sätze aber ich beherrsche mich meistens und versuche sie für fic zu entwirren #und ich liebe gedankenstriche #very open to more questions but might go to bed soon so will probably answer tomorrow if anyone wants to know something

[winterbunny-jk]

Es geht nicht in meinen Kopf rein, dass meine beliebteste ff 630 Kudos auf ao3 erreicht hat. 630.

Es ist nur eine Zahl, aber wenn ich mir 630 Leute vorstelle, heilige Scheiße.

Bin so unfassbar dankbar dafür. Die fic ist zwar englisch, von daher klar, viiiel größere Reichweite, aber für mich ist das trotzdem mind-blowing. Die anderen ffs von mir dort kommen da nicht mal annähernd dran. Schade, dass ich es vollkommen verlent habe auf englisch zu schreiben, seitdem ich wieder auf deutsch schreibe :( vielleicht irgendwann mal wieder <3

#bunny ramble #ist auch schon älter die fic #aber hab mich in meinen alten acc eingeloggt und war einfach komplett sprachlos lol #nicht jk #ao3 #writing