#and they continue doing that for a few months because they have an unspoken agreement that they DO like each other but they’re far too busy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daisynik7 · 1 year

Text

Rush

Epilogue

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: ~9.5k

cw: mentions of explicit sex, attempted sexual violence that may be triggering (does not go far and is not committed by Eren)

Summary: New year, new beginnings, old flames.

Notes: I hope you enjoy this Epilogue, it’s a long one! I included a word count this time, for your reference. Please read the End Notes at the bottom of the chapter for my sincerest thanks.

Previous Chapter | ao3

Rush Series Masterlist

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After a well-deserved holiday break, you’re back at University of Paradis to start your spring semester. Along with your new and more rigorous curriculum, your obligations to your sorority escalate. No longer a pledge and a now a fully-fledged sister, you take a more active role in your organization by trying to recruit potential members. Spring rush begins two weeks into the new year for women and men interested in Greek life. Because of the partnership with Alpha Tau, Sigma Nu Kappa miraculously sees an increase in their numbers. By the end of the month, you welcome an exciting group of new sisters, ready to dive into the mysterious allure of sorority life.

Alpha Tau, back in its good graces, continues to excel during recruitment, despite losing a few members the previous semester. Reiner was expelled shortly after Eren. Apparently he threw a hissy fit in front of Erwin and Levi, who confronted him about his disrespectful behavior. Bertolt, being the obedient devotee he is, actually quit following his best friend’s expulsion. Rumor has it they’ve been “adopted” as unofficial brothers into another frat, the one where their friends Porco and Marcel are in.

The first few months of the new year are ordinary, for the most part. The only major difference is that Eren Jaeger has become a regular part of your daily life.

Following the end of your intimate relationship with him and his expulsion from Alpha Tau, Eren quickly got his act together. He focused on his studies more, spending hours in the library next to Armin, buried in his textbooks or typing away at a paper. You didn’t see him much during those last few weeks, only in passing, walking alongside his best friend. Cordial waves from a distance were always exchanged. Even from afar, it was difficult to ignore the twinkle in his eyes or the goofy grin whenever he saw you.

It's not until this new year that Eren makes his official return into your life.

The golden trio of Eren, Armin, and Mikasa are in tandem again, hanging out constantly as if their temporary setback never occurred. You’re included in the mix now, being Mikasa’s closest friend, roommate, and sorority sister. Jean occasionally joins if he isn’t busy with soccer team business. You and Eren acknowledge one another as acquaintances do. A smile, a wave, a glance here and there. Nothing more. Careful not to overstep any boundaries. There’s no tension between you two; rather there’s remnants of a barely lit flame still present from your previous relationship. It’s unpredictable when it will ever fizzle out.

You share meals together, surrounded by your friends, never alone. You have conversations as a group, not with each other. The most you’ll say is a hello or hi, along with a lingering look. There’s an unspoken agreement there; he won’t cross any lines until you’re ready to. At this rate, you’re taking baby steps to get to that point. You want to take your time with him.

Despite keeping your metaphorical distance, you find yourself learning more each day you spend with him. His interests, his pet peeves, his little quirks that you secretly find charming. Over dinner one night, you discover that Eren has a sweet tooth, finishing two different slices of cake in one sitting without a single crumb or smattering of frosting left on his plate. Another night, Mikasa teases him about being a mama’s boy, which he shamelessly agrees with.

“She’s the most important woman in my life,” he says proudly to Mikasa. “Besides you and – ”

He cuts himself off, not finishing his statement. For a split second, his eyes quickly dart towards you, cheeks blushed with a rosy tinge. Maybe it’s your imagination.

They reminisce about their past often, having spent their entire childhoods together. Through passing comments, you learn that Eren has always cared deeply for his friends. As a child, he was the first to throw a punch whenever Armin was harassed by the neighborhood bullies. The only kid on the block who would defend Mikasa from perverted old men eyeing her on the street. Even protecting his mom from being mugged several times on simple trips to the grocery store.

You’re beginning to see for yourself what Mikasa told you last semester. I wish you could have met him before all of this. You would see how great of a person he can be. There’s a reason his friends have stuck by him through thick and thin. They’ve put their trust and faith in him because of the lengths he’s gone for them. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to get to that point with him. A tiny part of you hopes so.

You learn that Armin and Eren share a fascination for traveling. During a study session in the library, they huddle during their breaks to read a couple different travel magazines they purchased at the café. Eren takes great care to highlight and place post-it notes on pages he finds particularly interesting. A few times, he glances over at you, catching your gaze on him. The moment dissipates as quickly as it appears, a fading ember in heavy rain. Something’s there, both of you too hesitant and shy to nurture it.

In the blink of an eye, March arrives. The flower gardens scattered throughout campus are in full bloom. Displays of different colored flora along every pathway illuminate your daily walks to class. The melancholy that winter naturally emanates has finally passed. Life is good.

It’s this month that your relationship with him changes. It’s small, but definitely noticeable.

~~~

In the middle of March, the weekend preceding midterms, the four of them gather in a study room. Mikasa and Armin review biology flashcards, she’s finishing up a permitted cheat sheet for one of her courses, and Eren focuses on writing an essay for his sociology class. After typing his last thought, he closes his laptop and leans back in his chair, sighing.

Mikasa sets down her flashcards. “Let’s take a break.” She reaches into her bag and fetches a bag of chips, setting it in the middle to share.

“Speaking of a break, what is everyone doing for spring break? It’s coming up,” Armin reminds them.

“Jean invited me to stay with his family. We might go camping,” Mikasa replies.

“That sounds fun! Grandpa will probably want to go fishing, so I’ll be doing that,” Armin says. “Eren, what do the Jaegers have planned this year?”

He grabs a handful of chips as he answers, “We’ll be at the beach house. I can’t believe Mikasa will be missing my birthday just because she has a boyfriend now,” he teases her, smirking.

She rolls her eyes. “A week away from Zeke bragging about med school and taking over your dad’s practice? Oh yeah, poor me,” she responds sarcastically, returning his playful grin.

“When is your birthday?”

He’s startled to hear her voice. To hear her direct a question at him. It’s an invitation to engage in a real conversation, which flusters and thrills him.

He faces her, hoping his cheeks aren’t flushed. “March 30th.”

“Must be nice having it during spring break. I’m sure you’ll have fun.”

He gulps loudly, excited to continue talking to her. “Yeah, it is nice. What are…what are your plans?” Mikasa and Armin stare at them as if they’re watching a slow-moving tennis match, heads turning towards whoever is speaking, holding their breaths.

She shrugs, reaching for the snacks. “Probably just stay home and do some spring cleaning. My family doesn’t really go on vacations.”

There’s a rush of ideas bombarding him, the most obvious being the temptation to invite her. It’s insane. But the thought of spending spring break together is a dream. It’s been over three months since they ended their previous relationship. Over three months of secretly pining for her, waiting for whatever chance he can get to be a little bit closer.

It’s on the tip of his tongue. What’s the worst that could happen if he let it slip? Rejection? Bruised ego? Extreme embarrassment? That’s nothing compared to heartache, and he’s already experienced that. He has nothing to lose.

Still, he has to put her first. He wouldn’t want to do or say anything to make her uncomfortable. That’s why it’s taken this long for them to have a legitimate conversation with each other, outside of their usual greetings. He wasn’t sure if she wanted to speak to him, especially after all that happened.

Mikasa intervenes. “Annie doesn’t live too far from you. I’m sure you two can see each other if you’re bored.”

“Oh yeah! She mentioned wanting to try a new restaurant near where I live, so we’ll probably do that.”

Eren comes to his senses, mentally calming himself down from his sudden excitement. He can’t invite her to the beach house with him. That’s crazy. Outrageous. Definitely a bad idea. Baby steps, he reminds himself. Baby steps. “That should be fun. I hope you have a nice break.”

“Thank you. You too.”

They gaze at each other for what seems like a full minute; in reality, it’s a few seconds. There’s electricity, even if it is a slightly dulled. It could be wishful thinking on his end, but these are the tiny interactions he’s learned to cherish these past few months. He’ll take whatever he can get; a warm glance, courteous wave, her signature bright smile that instantly lifts his mood. He won’t take any of it for granted anymore.

Armin clears his throat. “Anyways, it sounds like we’re all going to have a nice vacation.”

His friends engage her in idle chit chat about Greek life, leaving Eren alone in his thoughts. Another layer in their complicated relationship has been peeled away. There’s a long way to go, but it’s progress. It gives him hope.

He treasures these moments. This, along with the little details he’s learned about her so far. What she likes, what annoys her, those adorable habits she has. They spent so much time indulging in sex last fall that they didn’t get to know each other properly. He enjoys exploring her mind and soul just as much as her body; maybe more if that’s even possible.

Their passionate nights reappear in Eren’s head every now and again. Probably more than he’ll ever admit. Out of respect, he tries his best not to think of her in that way anymore. Though when he’s alone in the deepest confines of his psyche, he can’t help letting his hands wander, wishing more than anything it’s her in bed with him. He allows himself this occasional weakness for the sake of his sanity.

Tonight, he lets himself succumb to it, more so than ever these past three months. She actually spoke to him, and she was the one to initiate it. It’s glorious, and hours later, he’s still high from it. Why is he so desperate? As Eren slides his boxers off to stroke his hard cock, body hidden beneath the blankets in case Armin returns any minute, he ignores the guilt and lets his desires overtake him.

He fantasizes about a scenario where she does spend spring break with him and his family. They would drive to the beach house, top down in a rented convertible, wind blowing through their hair. Fingers entwined, resting on the center console, natural for two people in love.

At the beach house, Eren would make proper introductions to his parents. His mom would be ecstatic to see her son with a woman, especially one as beautiful as her. Zeke, his half-brother, would arrive later for dinner, cocky as usual during table conversation. Probably flirtatious with her, attempting to push his little brother’s buttons. This wouldn’t bother Eren, because at the end of the night, it’s him who bends her over at the edge of the bed, pleasuring her until they’re both spent. Cuddling and falling asleep in each other’s arms, in total bliss.

She’d make the best impressions on his parents, helping his mom in the kitchen, offering to help his dad fix a few loose boards on the deck. Pretending to be intrigued by Zeke’s insufferable stories of med school. They’d relax by the ocean every day, basking in the pleasant heat from the sun. At night, they’d make love, indulging in each other’s warm bodies. Her silky moans music to his ears as she wraps her legs around his waist, wanting to feel him deeper. Her moans turn into whines, indicating he’s hitting that sweet spot. He thrusts into her faster, wanting her to gush all over him, thumb brushing against her puffy clit that he licked and sucked earlier when she rode his face. She’s so close, desperate to have her precious cunt filled with his hot load…

His cock twitches in his fist, cum dribbling onto his bare abdomen. He opens his eyes and he’s in his bedroom, hidden beneath his covers. There’s a box of tissues at his bedside, conveniently. He wipes any evidence and tosses it into the trash, thankful that Armin takes unusually long showers.

After a few minutes of lying in bed, he buries his face into his pillow, groaning. He hates when that post-nut clarity hits. It brings him shame, guilty for using her as a way to get himself off. He didn’t even recall a past scenario this time; he invented a new one.

He answers the question he asked himself earlier: Why is he so desperate?

He’s in love with her. That’s why.

~~~

The rest of the semester passes without any major issues. The frequency in which you converse with Eren increases at a steady rate. He cracks jokes here and there, nothing vulgar or inappropriate. The conversations are never too deep, enough to scratch the surface and uncover a valuable cache of knowledge about each other. It’s surprisingly easy talking to him; you’re building up to being more than acquaintances with an intricate past.

With finals around the corner, you find yourself once again in a study room with Mikasa, Armin, and Eren. Mikasa and Armin group in front of a whiteboard, reviewing diagrams and terminology for their biology class. Eren is writing yet another sociology research paper. And you’re in the middle of a practice test for one of your courses.

Eren closes his laptop, raising his arms up in a stretch. “Anybody want anything from the café?”

Mikasa and Armin, too focused on their discussion, wave him off. He turns to you, offering, “Do you want anything?”

Distracted by a question that you’re desperately trying to solve, you mumble a name of a drink, your usual. A few minutes later, you come up with the solution and finally relax. It’s only now that you realize you only gave him half the details of what you wanted. Thinking it’s too late to specify any of it, you let it be, not wanting to be a bother.

When he returns, he sets his drink next to his laptop. Probably a black coffee, his typical order. He hands you yours, which seems normal.

“Thank you,” you tell him. “Let me know how much I owe you.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s on me. I hope I got your drink right.”

Certain that he didn’t, by no fault of his own, you examine the sticker on the cup listing the precise details. To your surprise, it’s perfect. From the amount of ice, type of milk, even the extra pump of the particular sweetener you like.

Impressed, you exclaim, “It’s exactly how I order it! How’d you know?”

He rubs the nape of his neck, blushing. “You get it so much, I guess it stuck with me.”

You beam at him, flattered that he memorized your relatively complicated order. He thought it was important to remember. It makes you feel special. With a sip of the drink, you take a deep breath, exhaling happily. “It’s absolutely perfect. Thank you.”

Cheeks still pink, he responds, “It’s really nothing.”

There it is again. That spark. A blaze that burns just barely, enough to provide light and warmth in a dim, dark place. It’s amazing how something so simple, so seemingly insignificant, can do that. You do your best to suppress these emotions, knowing all too well that there’s a long way to go when it comes to you and Eren. That doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate the progress.

The next few hours continue, the four of you concentrated on your own studies. When the sun sets, you gather your belongings and head to the dining hall to eat.

The topic of summer vacation comes up. Mikasa is already aware of your plans, but you decide to announce it to Armin and Eren.

“I’ll be staying on-campus. I’m required to complete one summer session for my major so that I can graduate on time.”

Armin says, “Really? Eren, aren’t you doing a summer session as well?”

This is brand new information. Mikasa also seems surprised by this. “You’re going to be here for the summer too?”

Eren nods, eyes focused down at his plate. “Yeah, I talked with Pyxis this week and he suggested that I do one to get in some extra classes. Told me it’s better for my resume when I apply to law school. He was able to pull some strings and get me enrolled last minute; I just found out yesterday.”

Mikasa, who’s sitting next to you, squeezes your knee lightly underneath the table.

“I guess we’ll both be here,” you murmur, unsure how else to react.

“Yeah, I guess we will.” His expression is unreadable. For a split second, though, he smiles.

Later that night, with you and Mikasa ready for bed and snuggled under the covers, she turns to face you. “Are you going to be okay? Being here with Eren for the summer?”

“Of course. It’s not going to change anything. We’ve been okay this whole semester.”

“Yeah, but Armin and I aren’t going to be here. Do you think you’ll want to hang out with him? Alone?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. We haven’t been alone together since…well, you know. I don’t know how awkward that will be.”

“You’ll both be at Reiss. All the students doing summer sessions are housed there.”

“So? What’s your point?”

“Living together in close quarters when nobody else is around to keep the two of you dummies in check? What do you think will happen?”

Rolling your eyes, you indulge her. “Tell me.”

“You’ll fuck! The two of you will start fucking again!”

“Mikasa, that’s not going to happen. First of all, the apartments are big. It’s not like we’ll be next door neighbors. I probably won’t be seeing him much. And second, even if we do run into each other, we’ll say our usual hellos, do some small talk, and that’s it! What do you think we’ve been doing the past few months. Everything is under control.”

“Oh please. Don’t think for a second that the little flirtations you and Eren have been exchanging are going unnoticed,” she reveals.

“What? We don’t flirt!”

“Oh really?” She sits up aggressively, mimicking you from earlier. “Oh Eren, it’s perfect! How did you know?” In a second, she switches to Eren, copying his deep voice, “I don’t know baby. Just stuck with me I guess. Want to touch my abs now?”

You throw a pillow at her, unable to contain your laughter. “Shut up! That’s not what we sounded like!”

“That’s exactly how you sounded,” she teases, tossing it back to you. “It’s obvious he still has feelings for you.”

“I don’t know about that – ”

“And I know you still have feelings for him, too. Neither of you will ever admit it, but we all know.”

Shocked by her accusation, you sputter, “Huh? That’s not…how do you…”

“We’re sisters. Of course I know.”

You remain silent, neither confirming nor denying her suspicions. It wouldn’t matter anyways with how confident she sounds.

“I’m not saying you two shouldn’t reconnect. To be honest, it seems like Eren is back to his normal self, before his whole wannabe fuck boy phase. I want to make sure that you’re ready to take that next step. If that’s what you really want.”

“I don’t know what I want yet. We’re taking it slow. There’s no rush.”

“And that’s great. I don’t doubt that you’ll continue to succeed in that. But I’m sure there will come a time that you’ll be tempted to revisit those intimate moments the two of you share. If you do go through with it, do it because you want to. Not because you’re lonely, desperate, or pressured. Do it because it feels right in your heart.”

You let her advice sink in. She adds, “If you ever need someone to talk to, you know I’m always a phone call away.”

In the dim light, you can see her sincere eyes gazing at you. “Thank you,” you tell her, promising telepathically to heed her words of wisdom.

The discussion ends there, leaving it up to you to decide when the “right time” is. Or if there will ever be a “right time”.

One thing is for sure: this summer is already more interesting because of Eren Jaeger.

At the end of the semester, the seniors graduate in the standard pomp and circumstance ceremony. You exchange tearful goodbyes to your favorite graduates, promising to keep in touch. Hange makes you swear to visit her at Marley School of Medicine, while Petra promises to stop by whenever she’s in the area. The candy leis you, Mikasa, and Sasha spent the previous night crafting are distributed to all the Sigma Nu Kappa seniors, even some Alpha Tau’s, including Levi, Erwin, and of course, Mike. You give him an especially fond smooch on the cheek.

With the school year officially over, most of Paradis’s students pack up and go home. Annie and Hitch agree to stay an extra day to help you move into the on-campus apartments called Reiss Residence, open specifically for students staying for the summer. It takes at least two hours to haul your belongings across campus to your new home. Being on the second floor of the complex with an elevator that operates at a snail’s pace contributes to the difficulty. Once your stuff is inside, you unpack, dragging boxes up the stairs into one of the empty bedrooms. Downstairs is a living room space furnished with a couch and coffee table. There’s also a little kitchen, complete with all the essential appliances to cook. Unfortunately, you don’t have any pots or pans to actually prepare a meal, so you pray that your roommate moves in with those items in her possession.

Exhausted from the move and too lazy to walk over to the dining hall, you call a local pizza shop to get dinner delivered directly to your doorstep, treating your friends for helping you during this tiring process. In the middle of your meal, you hear a knock on your door.

“RA knocking! Anyone in there?” When you open it, a tall, well-built man stands in front of you with a clipboard. “Hi! I’m Onyankopon, your new RA.”

You introduce yourself, smiling as you shake hands.

“Welcome to Reiss. My room is downstairs, #101. Knock anytime you need anything. If I’m not in, feel free to call me.” He gives you a sheet of paper listing general rules and information for the complex. He points at the number typed on the bottom next to his name.

“I see you’re pretty much moved in. I just need to get you checked-in with a date and a signature.” He presents you the clipboard and a pen. You scan it quickly for your name, signing it when you find it. Not bothering to check the rest of the list, you return it to him.

“Awesome, thanks. Has your roommate moved in?”

“No, not yet.”

“That’s okay. I’ll come by tomorrow again to check. Some students are coming in tomorrow, even later this week since classes don’t start until Monday. I’m planning to have a little welcoming party in my room Sunday night to introduce everyone. I’ll post the details on the bulletin next to the laundry room on this floor.”

“Sounds great. Looking forward to it,” you tell him, genuinely excited.

“Don’t hesitate to contact me if you need anything!” With that, he waves goodbye, leaving to knock on the rest of the doors on your floor.

Back inside, Annie says, “He seems nice.”

“And hot,” Hitch smirks. “Aren’t RAs for these apartments usually grad students? You should try older men for a change,” she teases with a wink.

You roll your eyes. “I don’t think he’ll be interested in an undergrad if he really is a grad student.”

“Hey, you never know unless you try! How hot would that be, sex with the RA? This stuff doesn’t write itself.”

You laugh, half considering her suggestion because she’s not wrong: your new RA is very attractive. However, you’re still taking time to focus on yourself and avoid potential drama. If that means remaining celibate the rest of the summer, then that’s the route you’ll have to continue taking.

“Armin told me that Eren is also going to be here. Is that going to be weird for you?” Annie asks, finishing off her slice of pizza.

“I don’t know. We probably won’t see much of each other unless we literally live right next door, which isn’t going to happen.”

“Think you’ll try to hang out with him one-on-one? I mean, you practically saw each other every day the past few months.”

“That’s different; we’re always with Mikasa and Armin. There’s a buffer.”

“Do you even want to hang out with him? As friends?”

It’s definitely crossed your mind. Mikasa’s words have been replaying constantly the past couple of days. Do it because it feels right in your heart.

You haven’t seen him since the last study session, and the thought of running into him any minute now has you flustered. Is it worry? Or excitement?

“I don’t think I’m there yet,” you respond, remaining ambiguous.

Instead of continuing to pester you, they drop it, changing the subject to Eta Iota gossip going around about one of Hitch’s sisters hooking up with another’s boyfriend. You listen passively, your focus still on Eren.

Given your history, it might be dangerous to be alone together. You’d be lying to yourself if you said your intimate memories with him have never reappeared in your thoughts. They pop up in your head, particularly at night when you need some sort of sweet release.

Hanging out, without Mikasa and Armin there to regulate, is a big step. Will you ever get there with him? Can you ever be friends?

The next morning, you eat breakfast with Hitch and Annie at the cafeteria before they leave for home. Back at your apartment, you notice the door is open, boxes stacked and scattered around the living room. You hear shuffling upstairs and a girl’s voice talking to someone on speaker phone. You knock on the open door loudly to announce your presence.

A girl with light-brown hair in a ponytail comes sprinting down the stairs, smiling. “Roomie!” She launches herself towards you to give you a big hug. “I’m Hannah! Nice to meet you!”

You return her embrace and introduce yourself, making small talk while you help her move her things to her bedroom. Throughout the day, you learn that she is cheerful and easy-going. She mentions her boyfriend Franz, who she warns will be coming over quite often, to which you assure her that you don’t mind.

When she’s unpacked, the two of you walk to the store right off campus to pick up groceries and snacks. That night, you cook your first meal in the kitchen. Luckily, Hannah comes prepared with kitchenware, offering to share it as long as you clean it after use.

Friday, Hannah decides to spend the weekend with Franz once more before the session begins, leaving you alone in the apartment. You sleep in, taking advantage of the few days left of your tiny break.

Around noon, your growling stomach gets you out of bed. In your comfiest sweats, you leave your apartment. For the first time this week, you notice the door next to yours is open. Outside is a middle-aged woman with long black hair in a loose ponytail hanging over her shoulder. There are clothes scattered over the pavement surrounding her as she carries an empty laundry basket. Immediately, you bend down to pick up some of the littered fabric.

“Ah, thank you, dear. I’m such a klutz,” she giggles, squatting to help. “These are clean, don’t worry.”

You chuckle, giving her a pair of sweatpants. The two of your collect the last few items off the ground. “I hope I didn’t take too much time out of your day!” she says.

“Not at all. I was just on my way to get lunch. I’m in no rush. Happy to help.”

“I’m relieved to know my son is living next to someone as sweet as you. Thank you again for all your help.”

Her appreciation for such a simple act is endearing. She seems like such a lovely woman. You smile at her, reiterating how it wasn’t a big deal when you hear someone walk towards you from behind.

You turn to check who it is, almost choking when you recognize that it’s Eren. He blinks rapidly as he stutters your name.

Somehow, some way, the universe has forced you two to be next door neighbors.

Eren’s mom glances at him, then at you. “Oh, you two know each other? How nice! She was helping me pick up your laundry after I dropped it all on the ground.”

He steps towards his mother, grabbing the sides of the basket. “Mom, I told you I’d get that. It’s heavy,” he states, carrying it easily. He glances at you before heading back inside his apartment to set the clothes down.

His mom asks you, “So, you two are friends?”

What is the correct answer here? You’re not quite sure yourself.

Eren quickly replies, “Yes, we’re friends.” He smiles at you, then at his mom.

“Oh good! I don’t have to worry about my son being lonely this summer,” his mom teases, pinching one of his cheeks.

“Mom,” Eren warns, waving her off lovingly. It’s cute.

“Your dad should be here soon; he went to get gas after we unloaded all of your things from the car.”

“That’s nice you’re here to help Eren move. I wish I had a car when I moved. We had to lug everything from across campus,” you explain, laughing.

“Oh you poor thing. Next time, tell Eren to help you. As you can see, he has plenty of muscles,” she comments, squeezing his bicep.

“Mom, seriously,” he mutters, hand shielding his face in embarrassment.

“He’s so shy, isn’t he?” she grins. Eren peeks at you between his fingers, a blush surrounding his cheeks.

His mom’s phone chimes. “Oh! That’s your father, let’s go sweetie.”

You’re ready to part ways when you hear her suggest, “You should come to lunch with us!”

Going to lunch with your former fuck buddy’s parents? And your former fuck buddy turned acquaintance slash friend? This is too weird. “No, I don’t want to intrude.”

“Nonsense. We’re inviting you.”

Expecting him to dissuade his mother, Eren agrees. “Yeah, you should come with us. It’ll be fun.” His expression is warm and inviting. His eyes glisten with kindness. How can you decline an invite from both him and his mother?

“Oh…um, okay. Thank you,” you relent, walking besides them.

“Silly me! I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Carla,” she mentions, holding out her hand. You do the same as the three of you head downstairs. In the parking lot, you spot a maroon Subaru Hatchback running. A man with glasses sits in the driver’s seat.

“Honey, Eren’s friend here is going to join us for lunch!” Carla exclaims.

From inside the vehicle, you see him clap giddily. “Excellent! Hello Eren’s friend!”

Carla informs her husband of your name, to which he enthusiastically repeats. You grin at their quirkiness. From the corner of your eye, you see Eren smiling too.

~~~

Somehow, some way, the universe has blessed Eren.

He can’t comprehend it. He’s sitting in the back of the car next to her, the middle seat being the only distance between them, as his parents drive them to his favorite restaurant in the area. He literally pinches himself several times to believe it’s real.

His mom does most of the chatting during the ride. She asks the standard questions, most of which he’s already memorized about her. At the restaurant, which is a local diner with the best milkshakes, his dad joins in on the small talk. In typical Grisha Jaeger fashion, he brags about Zeke, who’s currently in med school to take over the family business. This naturally prompts him to pat Eren on the back and proclaim, “But I’m also proud of my other son here, who’s going to be a hot-shot lawyer one day! Hopefully he won’t ever be prosecuting me for medical malpractice!”

Aside from his dad’s corny jokes, their lunch is as delightful as Eren could imagine it to be, under their current circumstances. All week, he’s been nervous about the status of their relationship this summer, if there even would be a relationship. Without Armin and Mikasa around, how would it be between them? The question has been nagging him since he decided to stay. And now, it’s been partially answered. Still, he wonders if they’ll ever be able to spend time together, just the two of them.

Back at the apartment, they gather in front of Eren’s room.

“Thank you so much for lunch, Mr. and Mrs. Jaeger,” she says.

“Oh please, the pleasure was all ours! We hope to see you again soon!”

Eren eyes his mom, to which she announces, “Grisha, honey, let’s unpack some of Eren’s stuff in the kitchen.” Before his dad can get a word in, she drags him into the apartment, yelling out, “Sweetheart, it was so nice to finally meet you. Please take good care of yourself!” He nearly flinches at his mom’s slip-up. Thankfully, it goes unnoticed.

At last alone with her, he says, “Thank you for joining us. That was fun. I hope it wasn’t awkward for you or anything.”

“No, it wasn’t. Your parents are really nice. Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Are you all unpacked?” he asks, eager to keep their exchange going.

“Yeah, for the most part. I don’t have too many things, so it wasn’t so bad.”

“I’m the opposite. My mom made sure I packed everything. I might have to use the spare bedroom for storage.”

Her eyes light up at this statement. “You don’t have a roommate?”

“Nope. It’s just me,” he answers. “My dad is going to help me move the other bed into my room to create a queen-sized bed.”

“That sounds nice.” There’s a small pause before she adds, “Maybe we can hang out at your place. Not on the bed, I’m not thinking that because of the bed, I thought that since you don’t have a roommate, it might be nice to, y’know, watch a movie or something, I don’t know – ”

He stops her rambling with a grin, “I get it. I wasn’t thinking anything about it. But yeah, we should definitely do that. If it’s okay with you.” Calm, cool, collective. He has to appear this way as fireworks are nearly bursting out of his chest.

She nods, not explicitly responding to his last statement. “Anyways, I’ll let you get back to unpacking. I’ll see you around.”

It’s too short. He wishes they could keep chatting forever and ever. “Yeah, see you.”

She disappears into her apartment, leaving Eren to pinch himself one more time before joining his parents inside. In a daze, he removes some pans from the open box next to his mom, who looks at him curiously.

“Honey, Eren and I are going to unpack his clothes in his room. Can you finish the rest of these boxes down here?”

“Yes, dear.”

Upstairs, Eren’s mom shuts the door and begins hanging his jackets in the closet. “So, that’s her.”

There’s no secrets between him and his mom. That’s the type of relationship they have. When he fucked up last semester, he made sure to come clean about it as soon as he was home for winter break. And she made sure to give him a piece of her mind. Since then, she hasn’t stopped.

“I can’t believe you would do that to a sweet girl like her,” she continues, casually unfolding his laundry as she scolds him. “Really, Eren. I am still so disappointed in you.”

“I know, Mom. I know. I fucked up. I beat myself up about it every day.”

“I hope you do. Did you know that she would be next door?”

“Of course not. I knew she was staying at these apartments. I never predicted this. I mean, I jokingly wished for it. I didn’t think it’d actually come true.” He can’t help but smile to himself, feeling like the luckiest guy in the world.

She glares at him. “Don’t get any ideas, son. You have to keep your distance. She might still be wary about you. I wouldn’t blame her.”

“Yeah, I know. I will. But when I told her I don’t have a roommate, she said that we should hang out. I think she’s ready to be friends.”

She stops what she’s doing to look at him carefully. “Honey, are you sure about this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Isn’t it time to move on? I know you still have feelings for her, but this is dangerous. You don’t know if she’ll ever feel the same way about you again. Maybe this ship has sailed.”

He contemplates this for a while before saying, “Maybe. But if there’s the tiniest chance, then I’m wearing a life vest and swimming. I’m not letting her go. Not yet.”

She stares at him, concerned. “You like her that much?”

With full confidence, he answers, “I’m in love with her. I love her, Mom.” This is the first he’s confessing it out loud. He’s surer of it now hearing it in his own voice.

“Eren, you’re not even dating. You barely know her. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not being ridiculous. I feel it in my heart, in my fucking soul. I can’t stop thinking about her. Everything I do now is for her. To prove to her how worthy of a man I can be, worthy of her love. I won’t give up until the day she looks me in the eyes and tells me that it’s never going to happen. Maybe even then, I won’t give up. I know you probably think I’m being immature or idiotic. But this is how I feel. I can’t help it.”

“Honey, I hear you, and I’m not trying to invalidate your feelings. But are you prepared to get hurt if this doesn’t work out the way you want it to?” There’s urgency in her voice, almost like she’s pleading with him to reconsider this. To give up, for his own sake.

He won’t. This is the most certain he’s ever been in his life.

“If that means I’m going to get hurt, then fine. It’ll be worth it to have felt something than nothing at all.”

~~~

Sunday night, your RA hosts a gathering in his slightly larger apartment on the first floor. Hannah isn’t back from her boyfriend’s, so you arrive alone. You meet a few of the other residents as you help yourself to a slice of pizza and a drink. Onyankopon gathers everyone in a circle to play a little ice-breaker game. Just as he’s about to start, Eren walks in.

“Sorry I’m late,” he mumbles.

“No worries, man! Go ahead and take a spot in the circle.”

You glance at him, waving, which he returns with a smile. He positions himself across from you, next to an auburn-headed guy you sort of recognize from one of the fraternities.

Onyankopon asks everyone in the circle state their name, year, major, organizations they are involved in on campus, and one interesting fact. He starts, explaining how he completed his bachelors at a school private school in Marley and is now working on his masters in aerospace engineering here at Paradis. Each resident clockwise has their turn to speak. When it gets to Eren, he shares that he has a big sweet tooth, which you already knew, and that he has finished an entire chocolate cake all by himself once in his lifetime, which you did not know.

After the event, you bid farewell to your RA and new neighbors. Outside, Eren walks slow, waiting for you. You catch up to him, greeting him with a, “Hey.”

“Hi. Are you ready for classes tomorrow? Feels like we barely had a break.”

“Not sure if I’m ever really ready for classes. Oh well,” you chuckle. “Do you have an early morning class?”

“No. Thankfully my earliest class is at 11, which isn’t bad.”

“That’s the same for me too! It’ll be nice to sleep in once in a while.”

“Yeah, definitely.” There’s a pause. “Maybe we can get breakfast some time. If you’re up for it.”

You remember him being so against sharing a meal together in public not too long ago. And now, he’s offering the idea so easily. You can’t help but tease him just a bit. “You don’t want to get it delivered?”

He stops in his tracks. “Hey, I didn’t…I wasn’t…I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking – ”

You nudge him in the arm with your elbow, laughing. “I’m messing with you. Breakfast sounds good.”

His face relaxes. “I deserve that.”

“Yeah, you do,” you smirk.

It’s different this time around. It has to be.

~~~

The session starts and Eren, for the most part, has a handle on his courses. Without it being as rigorous as a regular semester, he spends a large chunk of his free time going to the gym, cooking in his kitchen, and watching Netflix on his flat-screen TV, courtesy of Dr. Grisha Jaeger.

Though the walls are thin, he barely hears a bump from his lovely neighbor. However, knowing she’s there brings him happiness. Over the past few weeks, they’ve been getting comfortable chatting outside the apartment. Sometimes for a few minutes if either of them is in a rush to another destination, most of the time for nearly half an hour, neither in any rush to end it. He looks forward to stepping outside his apartment every day to get his daily dose of her. An instant serotonin boost.

One Friday night, well into the season, Eren sits on the couch in front of the TV, watching a K-drama he’s hooked on. He finished a bowl of pasta for dinner and is indulging in ice cream when he hears a knock on his door.

He cracks it open cautiously. To his delight, it’s her. “Hi neighbor. Can I hang out here for a bit?”

It takes a while to process. Is he dreaming? He pulls himself together and opens the door for her, inviting her in. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just that my roommate and her boyfriend are having a heated argument right now and I’m almost certain it’s going to lead to some very loud and angry sex. I don’t want to be there to listen to it.” She plops down on the couch. “I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Not at all. I was just watching TV. Do you want some ice cream?”

“Sure!”

He rummages through his freezer, retrieving a particular carton of ice cream. As he scoops it into a bowl, she comments, “I didn’t expect you to be a fan of K-dramas.” She’s looking at the paused screen on the television, an amused expression on her face.

He passes her the bowl and takes a seat on the opposite side of the couch, an appropriate distance for two ex-lovers to be in. “I recently got into it. I can see why people are so obsessed with them. Especially the romance ones.”

She takes a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. “Yum. This is my favorite. Thank you.”

There’s no point in revealing to her that he knows this already. She mentioned it once during spring semester. He wanted to try it himself, see why she adored it so much. Now, he always keeps a pint of it in his freezer. Not because he expects situations like this, but because he indulges in it himself to have the tiniest connection with her. It also helps that it is, in fact, yummy.

“So I’m guessing that you don’t get along with your roommate?” he asks, finishing the last bites of his melting ice cream.

“We get along fine. I just didn’t expect her and her boyfriend to be so loud. Especially during sex. It’s very distracting.”

“When you’re caught up in the heat of the moment, it’s easy to forget about everything and everybody else surrounding you,” he says. In the worst timing ever, he recalls their passionate nights, never holding back with each other.

She turns to look at him, a gleam in her eyes that sends his heart racing. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Is he imagining all of this? This pleasant vibe in the air?

He hastily grabs the remote and resumes the show, ending any more talk about sex. They finish the episode and watch one more before she deems it safe to return to her place.

“Thanks again for letting me come over. And for the ice cream.”

“Of course. I’m here anytime you need me.” The words slip out sooner than he can actually think it through. He panics, fearing he took a monumental step backwards.

Instead, she responds, “Okay. I’ll hold you to that.” Eren watches her leave and waits for the soft thud of her door shutting to close his.

Cheeks hot, perspiration beading on his forehead, he slides down the door and sits on the floor, burying his face in his sweaty palms.

His mom is right. This is dangerous.

~~~

The summer session is nearing the end. It goes by much faster than you expect. This is largely thanks to your next-door neighbor slash friend slash ex-lover Eren Jaeger. For a situation so complicated and messy, it’s been easy being with him, as friends.

It’s gotten to a point where you’re at his apartment nearly every weekend, usually watching a random show or movie. He’ll offer you whatever meal he can whip up in the kitchen on the fly; other nights you’ll order delivery or take-out from a local restaurant. And every dinner ends with three scoops of your favorite ice cream.

On some weekdays, you’ll wake up early to get breakfast together at the dining hall. You’ve since unblocked his number from your phone, so either he’ll text you, “Breakfast?” or you’ll knock on his door, knowing he’s already awake.

Not wanting to make the same mistakes as last year, you tell your friends everything, to which you get plenty of opinions about from them. Annie in particular isn’t shy to call you dumb for falling for the same trap again. In your defense, it doesn’t feel stressful this time around. What do either you or Eren gain from spending time together, besides companionship? Without sex being involved, could the two of you truly become friends? At this rate, you’re confident that you can.

The Friday leading into finals, you leave the library close to 1 AM. You got caught up finishing a paper for one of your classes, not realizing how late it is. The walk to your apartment isn’t far. However, being alone in the after-midnight darkness adds a level of creepiness that unsettles you. You slide your keys between your knuckles as a makeshift weapon and stroll directly under each lamp post for a sense of security.

When you arrive at the apartment complex, there’s a figure slouched at the bottom of the staircase leading up to your floor. You recognize him as one of the residents of the apartments. As you pass him on the steps, he grabs your ankle.

“Hey, can you help me?” His speech is slurred; he’s drunk.

Alarmed at his unwanted touch, you tug your foot away from him, muttering, “Sorry. No.” You hustle up the stairs, hoping he stays slumped there.

You hear shuffling as he cries out, “Come on! I locked myself out! Public Safety is taking forever. Let me stay in your apartment for a bit.”

He’s on your tail. Nervous for him to see which apartment you’re living in, you stop in front of the laundry room, reaching for the phone in your pocket. “I said no. I don’t know you.”

“I’m Floch. I’ve seen you around. You’re a Sigma Nu Kappa. I bet you’re an easy fuck.” He grabs you by the wrist aggressively, causing you to drop your phone onto the ground.

“Let go of me asshole!” On instinct, you kick him between the legs, directly in the balls.

He grunts, doubling over, clutching his hopefully shattered jewels. “You fucking bitch,” he spits out through gritted teeth.

Quickly, you retrieve your fallen phone and sprint to your room, desperate to hide from him. Shaking, you can’t get your keys into the lock. From your peripheral, you see him get back up slowly, limping towards you, holding onto his crotch like some perverted zombie. You continuously press the lock button on your phone, attempting to trigger the SOS signal as he closes the distance.

Suddenly, the next door swings open and Eren hovers over Floch, growling, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Your assailant shrinks, waving his hands in front of him in a pathetic surrender. “Whoa…Nothing man, I wasn’t doing anything.”

“You owe her an apology.”

“Huh? She’s the one who kicked my nuts – ’

“Did I fucking stutter? Apologize to her. Right fucking now, dipshit.”

“Okay, okay.” He peeks around Eren’s massive form to apologize. “I’m sorry.”

You don’t speak, staring at them in a catatonic state.

Eren steps forward, towering over him. “Now get the fuck away from her and wait outside your own goddamn apartment. And if you bother her again, I won’t be so nice.”

Without another word, Floch hobbles off, heading upstairs to the third level.

Eren looks at you, expression switching immediately from outrage to concern. “Are you okay?”

You’re still trembling as you nod. “Yeah. I’m…I’m okay.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No. I kicked him in the balls before he could do anything.” You turn the handle to open the door, which you finally manage to get unlocked. “Thank you. That was…crazy.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I heard your voice from outside and I knew something was wrong. I’m glad I came out when I did.”

“Me too.” For some reason, you’re nervous to look at him, so you keep your focus on the ground.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thank you again.”

“It was nothing. Seriously. I’m here anytime you need me.”

You stand, frozen in place with fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins. Eren’s voice, despite being beside you, seems distant.

“You’re shaking,” he notices, watching you carefully.

“Yeah, I’m just…I don’t know. I wish my roommate was here. I don’t want to be alone right now.” Unfortunately, Hannah decided last minute to study for finals at her boyfriend’s this weekend.

After a moment of contemplation, he says, “You can stay at my place. Until you’re feeling better.”

“Are you sure? You don’t feel weird about this?”

“No. We’re friends. Right?” It’s more of a question he wants confirmed, unsure himself.

You smile at him. “Yes. Friends.”

~~~

He leads her inside his apartment, waving over to the couch. “I’ll be back. I’m going to get a pillow and a blanket.”

Prior to heading into his bedroom, he goes into the bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror. She’s in his apartment in the middle of the night, and he’s almost certain she will be sleeping here. She’s scared and traumatized from that asshole who attacked her, and she didn’t want to be alone, so he offered to help.

Has he crossed the line? Is this okay?

Back downstairs, he hands her a pillow and throw blanket. “Here you go. Let me know if you need anything else.”

He’s ready to march right upstairs, slam his door shut, and pretend that this is all totally normal. That he’s totally fine. This is what friends do. They help each other. And that’s what they are now. Friends.

“Wait.”

She looks at him, eyes precious, innocent, and sweet. Arms wrapped tightly around the pillow. It has him melting like ice cream on a hot summer day.

“Can you…stay with me a while?”

He swallows loudly, nervous and excited all at once. “Of course.”

She smiles softly, laying on the cushion with the blanket surrounding her. He kneels on the floor beside her, still in awe that this is happening.

“It smells like you,” she says, nose pressed into the pillow.

He laughs. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

“Good. It smells good.”

It’s too much. He’s about to explode from glee. On the edge of the couch, he rests his arm, laying his head on it, gazing at her. He wants to brush the hair away from her forehead. Caress her delicate cheek with his hand. “Are you okay?”

“Still a little freaked out.”

“We should report it. I’ll let Onyankopon know now – ”

“We can talk to him in the morning. I don’t want to be left alone right now.” Her hand sneaks out from under the covers, inches from his. There’s electricity flickering in the small space. It jolts throughout his body, firing synapses into his brain.

“Can I hold your hand?” she asks, voice trembling.

He’s convinced he’s dreaming now. There’s no way this is happening. But it is. She’s here in front of him. As real as ever.

He hesitates, “Are you sure?”

She nods, carefully sliding her hand over his.

Everything plays in slow motion. They press their palms together slowly, fingertips lined up perfectly, skin-on-skin igniting the ember that still remains from months ago. Savoring this moment before it gets taken away. Their fingers interlock, fitting seamlessly as if they belong exactly like this.

Breathless, he asks again, “Are you sure this is okay?” His whole body vibrates from the palpations overwhelming his chest, still in disbelief this is actually happening.

“Yes, Eren.” Her voice is soft, supple. It soothes him, makes him feel at peace.

“I don’t want to rush this.”

“Me neither.”

They remain in this position for a while, cherishing it for all it’s worth. So much is communicated between them without speaking. It’s in the eyes, their touch. The warmth that she emits, filling him up with euphoria he can’t find elsewhere.

It’s different this time. It’s right. He’ll do everything in his power not to mess it up again. His word lost all value the second he used it against her. So instead of telling her how he feels, he has to show her. Prove to her that he’s no longer afraid.

~~~

“Can I show you something?” He looks at you tenderly, eyes sparkling like brilliant emeralds unearthed through the dust.

Curious, you agree, giving him your full attention, a flutter in your belly from the anticipation.

He places your palm over his chest, holding you gently against him. Through the cotton of his shirt, you feel his heart pounding hard and fast.

“This is how I feel about you. This is what you do to me.”

You keep steady, relishing the rhythmic thumping of his heartbeat. Understanding exactly what he’s trying to convey to you.

The two of you were always lost in translation, unsure how the other felt, what the other wanted. You were on different pages, sometimes even in two different worlds. Somehow, someway, you are brought together again, now in the same orbit, revolving one other like the universe intended it.

Your story with Eren has already been written. It began at the start of fall semester, almost a year ago, and ended a few months later, before the bitter cold of winter. There are no rewrites, no rewinds to change the events that occurred. Mistakes were made, hearts were broken, a chance at love was lost. Far from a fairytale ending.

Maybe this is the beginning of the sequel, a story about two people who are far from perfect finding their way back to each other for one last shot. Picking up the shattered fragments to build something beautiful from the ground up, piece by piece. There may be cracks or missing parts throughout. In the end, maybe it’ll be a masterpiece you can both be proud of, flaws and all.

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End Note: Thank you for all of you who have taken the time to read Rush the whole way through. It’s been such a fun ride and I hope it was worth it. The love and support I’ve gotten throughout means so much to me, I can’t thank you enough! I have a few ideas about what I want to write next, so stay tuned!

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Tag List: @jaegerxeren @thelovewitch0v0 @hippiecultz @silver-foxling-blog @eren-slut @littlelaur27 @mokyowife @thenamesaceee @mxnst3rz @itswhits @diamandveins @ritzzberitzz @xartisticoutletx @izukusupreme @erensfavblackie @tippy-toes @monbebe101 @crtzrulestheworld @maqqiekwon @where-the-blackbirds-sing @minibold @hilichurl01 @jbird0508 @rainzelenia @anonbbygirlsblog @prettygirllisa @ctrllovre @4522-08 @laiorelle @pompompurjin @inbriannawestrust @alicebleu @sparkles-and-rust @neopussytechnology @kpopisbaeforever @kindmarely @weasleyisourking1 @taqsyq @guesswhosback129 @shinisthebest @hiromihanagaki @therarestruby @lovinghirotaka

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tonyspank · 9 months

Text

CHAPTER THREE | RECKLESS

Tara Carpenter x G!P Reader x Female OC

Warnings: kissing, fluff, short chapter because i want u guys to be happy one last time

series masterlist | main masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

SEVEN MONTHS LATER

It's been seven months since Tara and Sam brought you back to their community. You've settled into a routine and formed close bonds with the people there. Life has become more stable, and you feel a sense of belonging that you haven't felt in a long time. The community has become your new family, and you couldn't be more grateful for Tara and Sam.

Sometimes you'd go on supply runs; other times you'd take out groups of walkers, clearing the area around the community to ensure everyone's safety. The once terrifying world has become a place where you can make a difference, and you're determined to protect your new family at all costs.

You've grown close to Sidney, Tara, and Ethan the most. Sidney has become the aunt you've never had, always offering wise advice and comforting you during tough times. Ethan has become like a brother to you, always looking out for your well-being and making sure you never feel alone.

While Tara...she's... you don't even know how to explain it. She's a close friend, but at times it feels like there's something more to that, a deeper connection that you can't quite put into words. There's a magnetic pull between the two of you, an unspoken understanding that transcends friendship. It's both exhilarating and terrifying, leaving you questioning the boundaries of your relationship and what it could potentially become.

But, you don't want to risk anything. Especially since Iris is here. It feels weird to move on from her because, since the start of this apocalypse, the only thing you could think of was Iris and how much you missed your girlfriend. But, it doesn't seem like she feels the same way. You'd catch her and Chad being intimate and affectionate, making it clear that she has moved on.

Heather told you that Chad and Iris have been a complicated couple since they met at the community. Iris was stuck on you while Chad was pursuing her relentlessly. He even saved her life one day on a dangerous mission, which made her start to develop feelings for him. It's painful to accept, but it seems like Iris has found happiness with Chad, and it's time for you to do the same.

It's hard to accept that Iris has chosen someone else, but you know deep down that you can't force someone to feel a certain way. You deserve someone who loves you wholeheartedly and reciprocates your feelings. It may be difficult now, but with time, you will find someone who appreciates and cherishes you just as much as you do them.

"Ouch!" You grunt out, landing on your back. Ethan smiles at you, panting as he holds out a hand to help you up. You send him a playful glare before taking his hand and allowing him to pull you up. "How are you so good at close-range combat?"

You ask, still catching your breath. Ethan chuckles and says, "Cop dad. He taught me a few moves growing up," he explains, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "But ever since, you know, the dead and stuff, he's been on my ass about it."

You hum in response, "That's nice. Officer Bailey seems like a nice guy...when he's not sulking around the place." Ethan nods in agreement, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Yeah, he's been through a lot. Losing Mom really hit him hard. But he's trying his best to keep us safe and sane in this messed up world."

You give him a sympathetic smile, understanding the weight Officer Bailey carries on his shoulders. Despite the tough exterior, you can see the love and dedication he has for his family.

"C'mon! Chop, chop." Dewey says, interrupting your conversation and urging you two to spar more. You and Ethan exchange a knowing glance before playfully rolling your eyes at Dewey's impatience. You hold up your fists again, ready to continue the sparring session.

After about twenty more minutes of sparring, the session is finally over, and you're sitting cross-legged on the grass, catching your breath. Dewey walks over, a satisfied grin on his face, and pats both you and Ethan on the back. "Great job, guys," he says. "You're really improving." You exchange a proud smile with Ethan as Dewey walks away.

"I have a very serious question." You look at Ethan, curious about what he's going to ask. "What is it?" you reply, eager to hear what's on his mind. "Did you take my pudding from inventory?" You raise an eyebrow in surprise at Ethan's question. "Your pudding? No, I didn't take it," you answer honestly, wondering why he would think that.

Ethan thins out his lips, eyeing you suspiciously. He then sighs as he senses your genuine confusion. "It must've been Chad then! Ever since we've been returning from supply runs, every single one of my sweet snacks has disappeared." You tilt your head, considering Ethan's accusation. "Chad? Are you sure it's him?" you ask, curious about the possible culprit.

Ethan nods, frustration evident on his face. "I've noticed him eyeing my snacks before, and he always seems to have a guilty look when I ask about them," he explains. You hum a bit before turning your head to Tara, who was walking down the community's street, looking bored as ever.

"I'll talk to you later, E." Ethan nods in response, a small smile playing on his lips as he watches you jog over to Tara. "Hey, Tara."

"Hey, what's up?" Tara responds, smiling at you. "Not much, just wanted to ask if you maybe wanna hang out outside the walls for a bit." Tara shrugs, her smile never fading. "Sure, why not?"

"Cool, let me just shower, and I'll be ready to go." You quickly make your way back to your house, taking a quick shower before meeting up with Tara again. She greets you with a warm smile, her excitement evident in her eyes. "Ready?" she asks, her voice filled with anticipation.

You nod eagerly, "Mhm." You wave at Officer Hicks, who salutes back to you, opening the gate for you and Tara to exit the walls. You and Tara start walking away from the community, stealing glances at each other every now and then.

"I actually have a surprise for you." You say, breaking the comfortable silence. Tara raises an eyebrow, looking at you. Curiosity sparkles in her eyes as she waits for you to reveal the surprise. "Well, remember how you mentioned you liked horror movies?" you begin, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

"I found this abandoned movie theatre not too far from here. Ethan helped me clean it up and fix the projector. We can have our own private horror movie marathon today."

Tara's eyes widen with thrill as she realizes the surprise. "You're lying!" she exclaims, her smile matching your mischievous grin. The two of you quicken your pace, eager to reach the movie theatre and begin your thrilling movie night.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" You ask Tara in a Ghostface mask, trying your best to imitate the iconic killer from the Stab franchise. Tara giggles and playfully pretends to be scared, but then responds, "Hmm, I think I'll have to go with It Follows. Elevated horror is where it's at."

You take off the mask, tilting your head. "Really? Elevated horror? What about Friday the 13th? Jason is a classic." Tara shrugs, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Sure, Jason is iconic, but I prefer the psychological depth and thought-provoking themes of films like It Follows. It's all about the slow-burning suspense for me."

"You're lucky you're cute." Tara chuckles and playfully nudges you. "Well, I guess my good looks give me an advantage in our horror movie debates." She winks, teasingly adding, "But hey, maybe one day I'll convince you to appreciate elevated horror too."

"Blah, blah, blah." You say, walking further into the movie theatre, ending up at a snack bar. You lean against it as Tara continues her argument about elevated horror. "Jason is just a mindless slasher. It Follows actually makes you think and keeps you on the edge of your seat." Tara playfully sticks her tongue out at you, daring you to challenge her taste in horror movies.

Rolling your eyes, you retort, "Please, Tara. A classic slasher film like Friday the 13th is a timeless masterpiece. It's all about the thrill and suspense, not overanalyzing every single detail. But hey, I'll give It Follows a chance if it means shutting you up for once." Tara giggles, knowing that you're just playing along and secretly enjoying the ongoing debates between you two.

You turn around, facing the snack bar, and reach for the old and expired candy box, that's probably been there since before the apocalypse. Your heart skips a beat when Tara does the same, your hands touching.

You both exchange a quick glance, causing a slight blush to creep onto your cheeks. It's in these small moments that you realize there might be something more than just friendly banter between you and Tara.

"You can have them." You tell Tara, chuckling a bit. She smiles, placing the box of candy in your hand. "Take them." You shake your head, "No, uh," you interrupt yourself with your own laugh. "If you want them, you have them." You set down the box of candy in front of Tara, who quickly picks it up, holding it in front of you.

"You think I want these?" Tara raises an eyebrow playfully, her eyes sparkling. She breaks eye contact with you as you stare at her, a lingering smile on your face. "Kind of..."

"They're like one hundred years old." she jokes, setting them back down. "Maybe that's your thing," she mutters, finally glancing back at your eyes.

The two of you stare at each other, caught in a moment of playful tension. The air between you is charged with unspoken words and a hint of curiosity. It's as if time has momentarily frozen, allowing the anticipation to build. Both of you are aware of the unspoken connection, wondering where it might lead.

It's been a while since you've been truly happy with someone, so happy that your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, so lost in the trance of the woman in front of you. She was perfect. Her perfect hair, her perfect eyebrows, her perfect eyes, her perfect nose, her perfect lips. Everything about her seemed meticulously crafted to perfection.

You smile wider at yourself, glancing between her eyes and her lips. Tara's heart has never felt this alive, pulsating with newfound energy. She knows she's attracted to you, that much is sure, but there's something more than just physical attraction.

It's the way you listen intently to every word she says and the way you laugh at her jokes as if they're the funniest things you've ever heard. There's a connection between you that goes beyond surface-level beauty, and it's that deep emotional bond that truly sets you apart from anyone else she's ever met.

But she's also scared. She's scared to get attached to you more than she already is and lose you to the walkers that lurk in the shadows. The fear of losing you to something beyond her control haunts her, making her hesitant to fully embrace the connection she feels.

She knows that the world is unpredictable and filled with dangers, and the thought of losing you to those uncertainties terrifies her. It's not that she doesn't want to fully embrace the connection, but rather, she's grappling with her own vulnerabilities and the fear of being left alone in a world that feels increasingly unstable.

However, another part of her says to do it. Take the risk and allow her to be happy, even if it's just for a second. Tara takes a deep breath, "I actually—"

She's cut off by you connecting your lips with hers, and in that moment, all her fears and uncertainties melt away. The warmth of your embrace reassures her that maybe, just maybe, taking the risk was worth it after all. Her hands grip your face, pulling you closer if that were possible, you wrap your arms around her body, holding her tightly as if she's going to fade away.

As your lips part, an intoxicating sense of contentment lingers in the air. Tara stares into your eyes, a hint of tears reflecting the depth of her gratitude. In that electrifying moment, she realizes that she has found something she never thought possible—a passion that is boundless and worth every ounce of risk. With a smile curving on her lips, she whispers, "What took you so long?"

You chuckle softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I finally thought of that heartfelt thank you," you reply, your voice filled with bliss. Tara giggles, her laughter filling the air like music. "I can't believe you remember that."

She leans in closer, bringing you into another quick and simple kiss. When she pulls away, her eyes glance between yours, her hand trailing your facial features. "I'm scared of losing you."

You gently take her hand in yours, reassuringly squeezing it. "I promise you, Tara, I'm not going anywhere," you say sincerely, your voice filled with love and determination. She smiles softly, her fears momentarily eased by your words.

"I actually do have a question." You tilt your head, waiting for her to continue. "Was...Iris the only person you had before...the outbreak?" You pause for a moment, memories of the past flooding your mind.

"Kind of...yeah. It's always just been Iris and her family. I actually met Iris a few months after my adoptive mother passed away...she was the first person I connected with after such a difficult loss. We quickly became each other's support system, and we started dating a bit after that.." You pause, a bittersweet smile on your face, as you recall the bond you share with Iris. "I'm just glad she's okay."

Tara nods, her eyes filled with understanding. "Thank you for telling me." You appreciate Tara's empathy and the safe space she has created for you to share your story. It feels good to have someone who listens and understands without judgment.

"You're finally back!" Heather says, bursting through your front door. You turn toward Heather, a smile spreading across your face. "I am." Heather lets out a loud groan, "Then can you please watch Iris? I'm supposed to be hanging out with Amber."

You furrow your eyebrows, "What's wrong with Iris?" You ask, concerned about Heather's sudden change in attitude towards Iris. Heather sighs and rolls her eyes, "She's sick, and she's been acting really cranky all day. I just need a break from her for a little while. So! Now that you're off your date with tiny Tara, can you watch her?"

You blush, "It wasn't a date," you mutter, not convincing Heather one bit. "But sure, I can watch Iris for a bit. Is there anything specific I should know or do while taking care of her?"

Heather shakes her head and says, "Not really, just make sure she takes her medicine and gets plenty of rest. She's been running a fever, so keep an eye on that too." You nod, assuring Heather that you'll take good care of Iris.

Heather exits your house, causing Amber to rise, "She said yes?" Amber asks her girlfriend, who nods in response. "Mhm," Amber continues, "I can't believe you're still trying to play cupid with Y/N and Iris. I'm pretty sure Y/N really likes Tara."

"Well, you never know. Sometimes feelings can change unexpectedly. Besides, Y/N did agree to take care of Iris, so maybe there's still a chance for them." Amber rolls her eyes playfully and says, "Sure, babe."

You knock on Iris's door, and a faint, "Come in." follows your knock. As you enter, you see Iris lying in bed, a wet washcloth on her forehead. You walk over to Iris and ask, "How are you feeling?" She looks up at you with a weak smile and replies, "I'm still not feeling great, but the washcloth is helping a bit." You sit down beside her and say, "I brought you some soup. Maybe it'll help you feel better."

You help her sit up, supporting her back with a pillow. Iris gratefully accepts the soup and takes a few spoonfuls, savoring the warmth and nourishment. She looks at you appreciatively and says, "Thank you so much for taking care of me." You smile and reassure her, "Of course, I'll always be here for you."

"Did Heather set you up to this?" She asks, a faint smile on her lips. You chuckle and shake your head, "Yeah, but still, I just wanted to make sure you're okay." Iris's smile widens, and she says, "Well, I'm lucky to have you in my life."

"Remember when Heather got sick and we all took turns taking care of her? It's nice to see that we have each other's backs." Iris says, not making eye contact with you. You start laughing, And it turns out she was faking the whole thing."

Iris's brows furrow, "What?" Your eyes widen, and your jaw drops. "Yeah, she admitted it later. I didn't know she didn't tell you." Iris's smile fades, replaced by a look of disbelief. "I can't believe she would do something like that. That's really messed up."

"I mean...she did have to run the mile that day, I'd do the same thing." You shrug, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, I guess we all have our own ways of avoiding running." Iris chuckles, shaking her head. "Yeah, but faking sick behind my back? That's a whole new level." You both laugh, finding peace in the moment.

Iris puts down her soup and stares at you. "You look happy." You smile back at Iris and reply, "Yeah, I guess I am. It feels good to just relax and have a laugh with you. You look like shit, though."

Iris chuckles and rolls her eyes. "Thanks, I appreciate the honesty. It's been a rough day." You nod sympathetically, understanding that it's because of her sickness. "Maybe you should try and sleep." You suggest, helping her lie back down. Iris sighs and nods, her eyes showing exhaustion.

"Yeah, maybe you're right. I could use some rest." You tuck her in and dim the lights, creating a soothing atmosphere. "I'll stay here with you until you fall asleep," you offer, hoping to provide some comfort during her rough day.

"You could lay down too..." Iris mumbles, her voice trailing off as she starts to drift off. You hesitate for a moment, considering her suggestion, before deciding to join her. As you lie down next to her, you feel a sense of closeness and reassurance, knowing that your presence brings her some ease.

Iris places her head on your chest, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. The sound lulls her into a deeper state of relaxation, and you can feel her tension slowly melting away. You gently stroke her hair, and mutter, "You better not get me sick."

Iris chuckles softly, her voice barely audible as she whispers, "Don't worry, I'll take care of you if that happens."

When Iris finally falls asleep, it's late at night. You slip from her grasp and leave, making your way to the inventory to see if there's any tea that could help her. Your heart drops when you see a figure standing in the dimly lit room, their back turned towards you.

They turn around quickly, and you let out a sigh, allowing yourself to relax. "Richie, you scared the hell out of me." Richie chuckles and apologizes, "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to startle you." Your eyes fall to the basket in his hands.

He notices speaking up, "Gale asked me to get this." You hum, "Do you have any tea? Iris is sick." Richie nods sympathetically and says, "Yeah, yeah. Here." He reaches into the basket and hands you a small packet of tea. "I hope this helps," he says with a warm smile.

Richie then walks away, basket in hand, leaving you standing there, thankful and confused. Maybe he was the one who stole Ethan's snacks.

#reader insert #wattpad #tonyspank #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega fluff #tara carpenter scream #tara carpenter x g!p reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x gn!reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter fluff

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fantastic-bby · 8 months

Text

Pairing: Reader x Yunho

Word count: 896

Genre: Fluff | Slice of life | Non-idol AU

Your casual relationship with Yunho is more comfortable than you thought

Warnings: Implied sex | Implied alcohol | Mentions of pegging

Masterlist

[3:09]

“Are you serious?” you laugh when you sit up.

“What?” Yunho glances at you with the corners of his lips lifted slightly. His attention is quickly brought back to his PC when he hears the game loading up.

“Is this what you do with all of your fuck buddies?” you joke as you slip your hoodie over your head.

“Nah,” he hums, “you’re the only one I’m comfortable enough to actually keep in my room overnight.”

“Aww, how sweet,” you say teasingly, climbing out of bed and dragging yourself over to Yunho’s desk where you stand behind his chair as your arms sling around his neck.

You’ve known each other for a few months. Your friend circles kinda overlap with the help of Wooyung—who has almost a billion more circles than you and Yunho combined—and you were only ‘just friends’ until one fateful night on a trip with your friends where you were both forced to share a bedroom after Wooyoung had passed out drunk in the living room while the only other two bedrooms that were open had been a little too occupied by your friends for either of you to want to be in.

Despite the option of the living room floor being open, Yunho felt bad and tried to get you to switch.

Which only made you feel bad, so somehow the option of sharing the same bed seemed to be the best one.

And when you’re both so close to each other, one thing led to another, which then led to you two fucking until the sun rose.

It’s become a regular occurrence for either of you to be in each others’ apartments, but tonight, you find yourself watching as Yunho starts up his game right after trying to rearrange your insides.

“Hm, if you’re hungry, I have some leftovers from dinner,” Yunho says as he raises his head to look you in the eyes.

“Oh?”

He nods and turns his head back down to face his monitor just as the match starts.

“It’s just—uhm—chicken fried rice. I was too lazy to actually make anything else.” His voice slowly turns into a mutter the more he focuses. “Felt like I was wasting money on food, so I learned how to cook.”

“Did you?” You let out an exaggerated gasp and lean back, smiling slightly in surprise. “And I thought Jeong Yunho refused to learn how to cook because daddy’s always putting money in your account.”

“Yeah, then I realised that I liked the idea of being a male wife,” Yunho snorts.

“I never pegged you as the domestic kind,” you comment as you make your way to the fridge of his little studio apartment.

“Uhh, you have pegged me, in fact, but yeah. Neither did I,” he laughs. You laugh as well, opening the door and pulling out the first container that looks like there’s rice inside.

“I’ll heat some up for you, too.”

Yunho hums back an ‘okay’, but doesn’t fully turn to look at you.

Silence fills the air, aside from the clicking from his mouse and keyboard and the sound of the game flowing out of his headphones that he’s moved to hang around his neck.

There’s always been this unspoken comfort that the two of you share when you’re alone and neither you nor Yunho usually think about it. It’s familiar and it’s comfortable; vulnerable. Almost as if the both of you share the same understanding that this is a space that you need.

So, you continue your synchronised movement as Yunho continues on with the match and you microwave his leftovers until you’re sitting at his tiny, squared, dining table and he finally stands with his headphones hanging off of the side of his black desk.

He joins you almost wordlessly, the two of you eating ‘supper’ in silence while you scroll through Instagram and Yunho watches some videos on his phone.

Only in this moment do you realise just how comfortable you are. Admittedly, you had stopped sleeping with other people after a few months of the ‘agreement’ that you had come to with Yunho, and it seems that—despite joking about his other buddies—he has, too.

And you’d be lying if you said Yunho also exists as a reminder all over. The park hold ghosts of you and him running away from the swans, cafes; wisps of him handing you his black card to pay for whatever you wanted—you’ve been spending a lot of time together recently.

Maybe your heart holds something else for him, you wonder for a moment.

But you ignore the thought and return to your phone screen, scooping another spoonful of rice into your mouth as you find another reel that keeps you preoccupied.

“Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“Wanna try dating?”

Movements halted, your eyes flit to meet Yunho’s and he’s staring at you with nothing but pure curiosity in his eyes.

And… is that… adoration?

Admiration?

You feel shock running through your veins, but it’s not a bad feeling. Instead, you’re filled with a sense of warmth.

And what you think you’ve completely missed is the fact that the conversation won’t make anything change because you and Yunho are already in this place.

So, instead of any kind of uncertainty or fear, you feel like it’s… only natural.

And you nod, “okay.”

Before you return to your own devices as usual.

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gyroist · 2 years

Text

FRUSTRATED. — HEADCANONS.

— after neglecting your needs for too long, you end up asking your riding partner for “help”.

↺ feat. johnny joestar, gyro zeppeli, diego brando x afab!reader ↺ cw/tws. smut — oral (recieving & giving), fingering, handjob, light teasing, blowjob lol, barely beta read (sorry) ↺ word count. 2k ↺ note. happy saturday, have this short thing? not gonna lie, i don’t even remember what the inspiration for this was. didn’t mean to write anything other than headcanons but i guess i couldn’t help myself. oh well! enjoy.

masterlist.

▸ it’s been two in a half months since the start of the steel ball run. you had met your riding partner(s) by chance during the third stage, coming to a mutual agreement of helping each other out.

▸ while being partnered up was nice, it helped quell the loneliness being out in the middle of foreign lands brought, it did little to soothe the tension building up within you.

▸ truth be told, it’s been a while since you’ve had time to yourself… with all the fighting and the holy corpse being tossed and dragged around like a game of tag, finding privacy was hard. sure, you could finish your business while your partner was sleeping but… shame would creep up and overtake you before anything could happen.

▸ it doesn't help the fact that because you’ve been stuck with them for so long, unspoken tension has been building up between the both of you. looks like your only option is to swallow your pride and ask for some help….

johnny joestar !

asking johnny….

▸ at first, johnny would just stare at you blankly, processing everything you just said to him. ‘they..they want me to touch em? just like that?’ not to mention gyro was literally a few feet a way and surely had heard the absurd question…. ‘which is probably why he walked away further…’

▸ when it all settles into johnny’s head, a cute dust of pink creeps up on johnny’s cheeks. he adverts his gaze down to the small fire in the middle of the ‘camp’ you three had set. deep down, johnny had no real problems with this.

▸ “you’re real crazy for askin’ me to touch you while gyro was in earshot, he’ll probably tease me for this in the mornin’ but… let’s take advantage of the fact he ain’t here”

one of the many things johnny had learned from his many experiences, was how to use his mouth. he’d been in bed with many women in the past for him to already have a clear picture of what could get you to tick.

and that’s exactly what he’s doing, with his head between your thighs, johnny looks up at your expecting eyes. he can see clear as day how much you want him, he had barely done a thing and your thighs were already trembling.

“you look so pretty, darling” he mutters loud enough for you to hear, once you advert your gaze johnny leans down to kiss your puffy clit. a cute gasp escapes your lips, eyes snapping right back to look at him.

“pay attention to me, okay?”

and that’s the only warning he gives you as he dives back down to press his warm tongue against your folds. your body automatically jolts at the sudden contact, then quickly melts under his touch as he begins to lick a stripe up your sensitive pussy before sucking on your clit.

your hand slaps over your mouth as you try your hardest to bite back any moan that would erupt from you, fearing that gyro might hear what the two of you were up to.

“mmn, don’t. let me hear you” johnny mumbles into you, continuing what he was doing but with more pressure. making sure that any attempts of silencing yourself become futile. ‘bastard’ he knows gyro’s going to tease you both for this in the morning; yet, he doesn’t care.

you nearly lost all composure when you felt a finger slip inside your entrance, curling it against your spongy walls. your eyes shut themselves tight as you tried to muffle a moan that rolled out your lips. you could barely contain yourself, hips bucking up into johnny. his fingers were long and slender, just barely reaching up just enough to hit a spot you loved.

peeking down, you could see johnny looking up at you, putting on a show of him licking at your swollen clit. fuck, he looked way to pretty down there, hair sticking to his face and his pretty plush lips, it was unfair.

gyro zeppeli !

asking gyro…

▸ much like johnny, gyro gives you a blank stare at first. but it’s mostly due to him being taken back, ‘so bold’ he’d think as his expression quickly morphs into one of mischief.

▸ “oh bambina, my sweet little angel, how could i have not realized you’ve been so neglected these past few days?” gyro would tease, pulling you close and trailing up your thigh. he’d watch as you nervously squirm and press your thighs together. ‘cute’. gyro would lean real close to your ear, pressing a quick kiss to your lobe before continuing his teasing.

▸ “tell me, how much do you want me to touch you?” his hands would stop right at the hem of your pants. gyro wouldn’t go any further until you admitted how many nights you spent wishing he’d just help relieve you of all your troubles… those big hands of his, touching you in all the right places.

▸ if you were shy on telling him, gyro would continue pressing kisses to your hot skin, making you feel like you’d burst due to all the contact he’s giving you. after going for so long without any sort of intimacy, you cant help but get all worked up over it; and he knew this too.

▸ when you finally tell him, gyro would merely laugh before setting you on his lap. as much as he wants to take you right then and there, he wants to savor this moment (to your dismay.)

gyro isn’t exactly when it started, when he started fantasizing about you. admittedly, the race had made him increasingly needy just like it had to you. back in his hometown in Naples, he would’ve given in by now and went seeking for the first pair of legs willing to open for him; sneaking around his strict father of course. but here, gyro couldn’t do that as much as he wanted to.

yet here he is, getting ready to do the exact thing he swore off from doing. shamefully, he must admit that he’s spent countless nights thinking about fucking you stupid. the idea of seeing drool dribble down your swollen lips, his dark lipstick smeared all over your chest all while he pounds into your wet sensitive pussy, drives him crazy.

and here you are, straddling his lap while grinding down onto him, trying your hardest to get off. your glossy eyes filled with lust and need, staring up at him while you bit back your soft mewls.

gyro had no clue as to what he must’ve done in a past life to earn this heavenly sight right in front of him.

“eager are we?” gyro hums, his hands squeezing down on the exposed flesh of your thighs. you were beautiful, and he didn’t know if his patience would last. he wants you now, more than anything.

“gyro…” you whine, tugging on his belt. he only chuckles before undoing it himself, letting you unzip and free him from his clothed restraints. you watch as his thick cock springs out, precum already leaking from his red tip. swallowing thickly, you can feel arousal beginning to pool between your thighs. you need him now..

gyro lets out a hiss when your hands begin to stroke him, putting his hand to the back of your head guiding you down to his lips. for a minute he lets you take control, letting your tongue invade his mouth. gyro’s hands move from your hips down to the hem of your skirt, pulling it up and ripping apart your tights, giving him access to your still clothed cunt.

impatience takes over you, sliding your panties to the side as you adjust yourself over him. mind clouded with the want and need to feel gyro’s thick cock inside of you. his tip rubs against your cunt, causing a soft moan to escape your lips.

gyro’s holds onto your hips with a firm grip, slowly pushing you down onto his length. you tried your hardest to silence the moan that threaten to escape you, already overwhelmed at how good he stretched you out, how good he felt inside of you.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” he mumbles, eyes shut tight as he fully takes in how good you feel around him.

“you wear me so well, look so good like this,” he hums, kissing your cheek

diego brando !

asking diego…

▸ diego gives you an expression that you can’t really read, it’s teetering between “lust” and “what the hell are you talking about”. regret is already washing over you, asking diego should’ve been the last thing you did. before you can scramble up a half assed excuse and go back to bed, diego interrupts your thoughts by patting the space next to him.

▸ “very well, come here.” he beckons you over. his expression is surprisingly soft, and his words don’t hold their usual haughtiness. crawling over to him, the familiar feeling of anxiety stirs within you. diego’s silent, unusually so.

▸ “I'm not just doing this for your sake, is that clear? i can see the mutual benefit of this so I'll indulge you, just this once.” of course. diego wasn't usually the type to make exchanges without having some sort of end goal in mind. ‘maybe he felt lonely too…’

▸ “but first, you’ll have to earn it.” the smugness in diego’s voice is back, he smirks at your confused face before you notice him pointing at the ground in front of him. ‘ah…of course.’

uncomfortably shifting on the ground, your knees were already aching the second you sat yourself in front of diego. asshole didn’t have the decency to give you any sort of cushioning.

“well, what’re you waiting for? get on with it.” diego huffs, his dick already half hard with a very clear bulge on his left thigh. you roll your eyes before reaching for his belt.

you could feel diego’s stare burning through you. you could easily tell in his mind he thought he held all the power, with his chest puffed out and a smug smirk plastered on his face; but you knew better than that.

from what you could tell, diego was the most needy one out of the two of you. from just one look you already knew how much diego wanted this, how much he longed to be touched in the same way you wanted.

you don’t need to look up at him to tell that he’s biting his lip with his eyebrows furrowed, giving the cutest expression unintentionally.

choosing to ignore the soft gasp that escapes diego when your hand lightly strokes his cock, or when your finger rubs against his too sensitive tip. diego’s trying his damn hardest to keep up his composure and act, you gotta respect that man a little for that.

but, you still wanted to tease him just a bit.

“diego,” you say, licking a slow stripe against his shaft, kissing his tip. you feel diego twitch ever so slightly when your tongue grazed past the hole, as well as hearing light curses under his breath.

looking up at him through your eyelashes, you keep eye contact as you begin to suck on his tip, tongue swirling around it before taking it in your mouth. by now, diegos had a cute tint of red on his cheeks. his breathing was unsteady and each time you pulled away to press kisses down his shaft, his patience ran thin just by a little.

“jesus, what did i tell you to do?! just get on with it already!” diego groans in annoyance, having half the mind to just push you down onto him and fuck your face right then and there. but he wanted to be nice today… let you set the pace. but he was beginning to regret that

“patience wasn’t always your strong suit” you tease.

truthfully, you were as well. which is why it didn’t take long for you to give into his demands. of course, giving into diego was the only choice you had, unless you wanted to deal with an extremely whiny and needy diego later.

©GYROIST

#johnny joestar smut #gyro zeppeli smut #diego brando smut #jjba smut #jjba headcanons #johnny joestar headcanons #gyro zeppeli headcanons #diego brando headcanons #johnny joestar x reader #gyro zeppeli x reader #diego brando x reader #jjba x reader #joannewrites #afterdark

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incarnateirony · 1 year

Note

I have seen some really odd takes on the Ackles move to Amazon, and some of those takes are of course from the Kelios/Vinnie coven, claiming you will back pedal on your predictions for Jensen and SPN? Honestly, I don't see a conflict. WB keeps whatever is already in the works for SPN/TW future developement, still in conjunction with CM, and CM creates future (likely Soldier Boy) content for Amazon. Sounds good to me, but they hate on Jensen and hate to see success. Thoughts?

It takes having the brain of a slug to imagine a conflict, especially when the article explicitly clarified there was no conflict and that WBD would continue to develop properties it already had agreements in regards to, with most deals at +2 years, which I mentioned back in like. Fuckin. December or some shit.

This is the same news as I mentioned raising flags in late February. I deadass told you like, there's big franchise news brewing but I literally can not see what it's about for some reason, which is why I've been trying to watch for internal or external HBO flags or other WBD maneuvers. Because, as I've said, I do not work for WB, but for reasons, a great deal of my access comes from an angle of WB, and I can't clarify beyond that. Just take off your shirt and spin under the peachtree, okay?

That's why the interview actually says like "The Winchesters Is Currently Airing It's First Season." Like, fam, I hate to break it to you, but the show ended almost two months ago, back when those flags were talked about. The reason I couldn't parse half the discourse is I ain't got shit on Amazon that you guys can't find, so yeah, derrrrrp no shit I couldn't see what all the paperwork flying around was about. I'm a leaker, not omniscient, jesus christ. I think these kids just perceive "fan, vs, all professional things in a vague pot of knowledge" and like. That isn't how it works.

All it means is that while WBD digs out of it's financial hole, it's going to focus specifically on in-house properties it can maximize profit and growth with, and probably has a friendly accord with Amazon about it to boot. The success of one can make the success of the other depending on how deals sign at the end of the day. Meanwhile, Amazon is hand over fist oodles above WBD and Max, and easily able to outbid/outfinance WBD, which may even HAVE a post-season library carriage deal arranged.

Jensen made a powerful impression at Amazon enough that he mutually retains power of SPN franchise and its spread of concepts, with our own little trusted corner there by Zaslav and Roth, and no middlemen beyond a compliant Dungey apologizing to Jensen about the past and just taking notes on numbers and staying out of the way. Then, Amazon can high budget anything that's not a WB IP to begin with, anything new CM dumps out, and frankly, any talent Jensen picks up, hence getting Drake signed to Gersh, and picking up indie producers by the handful right now.

Like this is actually moves beyond this fandom's ken. Not only has Jensen moved us up over the last 2 years where he basically has executive authority for at least a few more years with Supernatural Franchise, as long as its content retains success ongoing; but he's moved himself up in the world into being highly competed for globally, and is using his infrastructure to pull everyone up around him. Whether that be Berlanti and Misha's current co ops with him unspoken to the public, or talent and actor First Looks. Drake is about to be plastered all over Amazon, just you watch, and everyone else Jensen is adopting slowly.

Jensen hit The Top in WB almost 2 years ago now, or at least had all the deals signed that would land him there once mergers stopped shaking everything. People just didn't understand what the fuck he was genuinely building professionally. So now that he's at the top of WB and SPN there with him, he isn't settling, he's just moving further up the media tree than WBD alone can give him, hence Amazon, and that same engine he used to climb WB, he's now using to elevate everyone in it with him into brighter careers with greater reach and media leverage.

It's optimal positioning. Don't let the same idiot trolls whine you into even considering otherwise. They don't understand what's happening now any more than they've understood the last several years.

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stuck-in-hypna · 11 months

Text

An odd and interesting relationship

Lee Jihoon (Seventeen) x OC | Drabbles | One shot | Situationship

Sometimes, an unspoken agreement is better than something planned...

We have an odd and interesting relationship.

Odd because we share something intimate, interesting because we were never friends to begin with.

He is a colleague and an ex-crush. I got to know him as we would often bump into each other at a pub I frequented, and always ended doing the deed either at my place or his—didn’t have breakfast or brunch together, and never exchanged numbers.

Come Monday after that first night, we bumped into each other in the office, and acted like complete strangers, didn't even share a single glance.

Awkward? Yes, very!

And just a few days after, stealing glances became our thing, nothing more though… and it was a different story during the weekends.

It became an endless cycle, neither wanted to address it. Plus, it did feel like the topic was somewhat off-limits. This went on for months, happened once a week, Fridays. Nothing planned but it felt like there an unwritten commitment.

“Do you think Lee Jihoon is hot?” One of my colleagues turned friend whispered one time during lunch. “And he’s a real charmer!”

“Yeah, I guess.” I muttered nonchalantly, but secretly evaluated him, I’d have to agree though, he is hot and all things cute!

“I can’t believe you never checked him out, not even once?!” she asked incredulously, apparently surprised with my lack of interest, or so she assumed.

“I’m just not interested, and he’s technically our boss, so be quiet please!” I shushed, it's a good thing that we're not reporting to him directly, or this will not end well!

As subtle as I could, I tried to steal another glance at him and that's when I saw him staring right back at me with a smirk, fuck my life!

The jerk even made sure to pass by our table which is obviously out of his way! I panicked and looked down on my plate pretending that it was the most interesting thing I've seen, then he spoke, directed at me specifically.

"Hey, Timmy. You look good today!”, as he gave me the most annoying yet captivating grin. I was in awe and can feel my face getting warmer by the second, but acted that I wasn’t startled. He then continued to walk away when I acknowledged him with a nod.

“What was that about? Timmy? You are Fatima to people outside our team! Are you two that close?” she eyed me suspiciously, and I can only deny it and insisted that it was nothing. God, I know for a fact that she'll never let me forget about this moment, and if I'm lucky, she'd spill the tea to our team members!

Later that night, I made my way to the pub to have my usual drink, a part of me wanted to see him, but I still couldn’t forget about the incident earlier. It’s now half past 11, and I had to make sure that I was late.

A part of me is expecting for him to be flirting with someone at this time or maybe he'd already picked a random stranger and left...

I took a quick glance at our usual spot and didn’t see him there. Well, it’s a good thing right? Heck, I didn’t even know why there’s a bubbling disappointment in me.

And so, I sat on the free spot I found at the bar, but then I felt a hand on my shoulder, “You’re late.” Someone whispered to my ear, I shuddered, yep, definitely him.

"I had some stuff to do," I turned to look at him and smiled coyly at him.

"I thought you wouldn't make it, it was starting to feel lonely." he laughed and then took my hand, "come on, let's ditch this place. I have something planned for tonight."

He took a bill from his wallet and placed it on the bar to pay for my drink that wasn’t even touched, and we made our way to the exit.

As we stepped outside, he held my hand again as we walked to his car. “I hope you’ll enjoy tonight; we’re going to do something different.” He winked and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at him. We hopped into his car and started driving.

He drove to a secluded place but not before stopping over on a convenience store to buy snacks, and non alcoholic beverages.

I am not even sure what I’m doing here right now, although the view is perfect, I’m just as confused.

“I told you I wanted to do something different.” He said, probably reading my mind. He started to loosen his tie and unbuckled the seatbelt.

I narrowed my eyes at him, “You mean do it, here?!” I panicked.

He chuckled and got me even more confused, “of course not! I mean, I never really knew you, and I was hoping to get to know you a bit better.”

“Well, I guess that’s good.” I smiled at him, now calm and suddenly laughing at my sudden outburst, “I’m so sorry! I just didn’t know what you were thinking.”

"Apology accepted."

And so we talked, as the night progressed, we just kept talking, no kissing, no touching or whatever sexual thing there is.

It was like a rendezvous of two old friends.

This is making me see him in a totally different light... after this, I know our situantionship will no longer be odd, but interesting. A big part of me is hopeful that there might be something more, we'll see how things go.

|| Masterlist || Home ||

#seventeen oneshots #woozi x reader #seventeen fanfic #kflixnet #kflix #svt x reader

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forever-eternal · 9 months

Text

Not Congress

He looks like Congress. He acts like Congress.

But he’s not Congress.

———————————————————————

The Meetings in the years following the Civil War were tense and few in amount.

But the ones they did have involved every State, and thus everyone knew something was wrong.

Because, yes— he looked a lot like Congress.

But they knew he wasn’t.

His voice was higher in pitch, he was a few inches shorter and a little bit thinner.

Congress had a kind, tired expression— this man had a bright and optimistic one.

They still called him Congress, and he answered to it. He did everything Congress had done, work-wise.

He was similar, but it was the little things that Congress did and he didn’t that made them feel…concerned? Worried? Uneased?

They never brought it up, though, perhaps Congress was busy.

They could wait a few months.

———————————————————————

There were new States, 3 of them: West Virginia, Nevada, and Nebraska.

They and the Not-Congress, along with Minnesota, Oregon, and Kansas, seemed to have an unspoken agreement; if the three’s confused glances and the Not-Congress’ stern and imploring gaze were anything to go by– whenever one of the others referred to him as Congress through pinched teeth.

It wasn’t until 1874, nine years after the Civil War ended, that someone brought it up.

“Who’re you?” The voice is stern, but few remember who brought it up— though the general consensus is that Connecticut was the one to speak up.

Not-Congress looked up from the paperwork he always had spread across his section of the Table, looking as if he’d been expecting the question— Kansas, West, Nevada, and Nebraska suddenly looking nervous.

But they’d asked this question, and he told them his name was Continental Congress— they knew he’d answer the same, so Connecticut continued before he could.

“We know you’re not Congress, so don’ bother with that. Who are ya?”

Not-Congress stares at him for a moment, before he sighs, reclining further in his chair and setting his pen down.

“I suppose it was foolish of us to think you’d never notice.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck, a small popping sound coming from his joints as he shifts. “My name is Washington, District of Columbia: you may call me DC, or Daniel. I was left in charge of these meetings for…the foreseeable future.”

“Where is Congress?” Virginia’s voice is stern, like none of the newer States- those formed after the Revolution- had heard, - like a concerned, furious parent– “Why isn’t he here?”

DC’s gaze goes far off, ceasing all motion until he’s so still he looks as if he were stone, his voice is soft, but able to be heard in the silence of the room.

“A Civil War is one of the worst things that can happen to a Government, especially the personification.” He says, “They often tear their own bodies apart with their bare hands, until nothing is left behind– most cases end with a new Personification, no matter the outcome of the War.”

Bodies tense and breathing stops, and all attention is on the Not-Congress, on DC.

“What about…Assistant?” Mass’s voice is uncharacteristically quiet, “What about our girl?”

“My mother is still around.” DC replies, “She has decided to remain behind the scenes, however. Due to my Pa’s…condition, she had to take on his work as well. My mother may be a miracle worker, but there is only so much she can do before she breaks as well.” DC’s fingers are tapping on the wooden table, “My siblings and I decided that she will be taking a break, both to recover from the War and to deal with..familial affairs. Her responsibilities are taken care of by others for the foreseeable future.”

“Y…you said ‘most cases’, right?” Maryland’s voice is shaky, his eyes wide and slowly growing wet, “So there’s a chance…?”

“I watched my Pa, Continental Congress, tear himself apart for four years. Watched as his body split down the middle in a scar; a scar shaped like the border between the Union and Confederacy” the voice is dead, monotone, no longer soft and quiet but just…there, and several flinch at the tone, “I have seen him do many things, fight in wars and take fires onto his own body to prevent it from harming others, surviving injuries no one else could and still manage to keep that smile on his face for everyone he met, no matter how exhausted he was.

“I watched as, in his rare lucid moments, he burned and destroyed every map and flag he came across, in the few times he was accompanied out of house. This map is the only survivor of any place he’d visited; the edits made by my mother.” the massive, hand-drawn map on the wall taunts them- something they knew Congress had drawn out with all the love he had freely given them.

There’s a pause, a shuddering breath, “...I suppose he simply couldn’t do it anymore...”

There’s silence as everyone takes a moment to process.

———————————————————————

“Mary–!”

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Maryland shrieks from where he’d fallen to the floor, kicking and scrambling away from Virginia’s outreached hands, Georgia crouched just over his shoulder, “WE KILLED OUR BABY!”

Pennsylvania is kneeling on the floor next to him, holding the Old Line State and glaring, eyes suspiciously wet but no one points it out.

Not only had they killed their son, but they had grandchildren— grandchildren they forgot.

———————————————————————

“What do we do? What do we do–”

“What did we do–?”

“We can’t do anything anymore–”

“We killed our Pa–”

“We forgot the others—“

———————————————————————

…

DC had never been fond of lying to family members.

But his mother had asked him to, and his Pa was in no position to face the States in any capacity.

Besides, it wasn’t really a lie…

His Pa refused to answer to the name Congress anymore, and he wasn’t the same as DC knew him as, though he was still his Pa and remained the same in most of his parental abilities– it was luck, then, that they had enough older siblings when the New States came around during and after.

Minnesota is the only one of them that remembered Pa as Congress.

Oregon, Kansas, West Virginia and Nevada never really knew Congress besides the man who had to be restrained in bed to protect himself and others; they knew he was their Pa, but being in the same room as a man trying to rip himself apart wasn’t good for them, and so their mother limited their visits to his bedside for more peaceful moments.

Nebraska hadn’t known anything besides the Angry-man-in-the-Wheelchair his Pa had become, a change that had been so wrong– their Pa had rarely been an angry man; confrontational, sure, but hardly angry– but one they had grown used to.

Besides, in the privacy of their home- their Pa was only really angry when he drank, which he only did when all but he and their mother had gone to bed.

And he was never angry at them, would never raise hand at them– though sometimes he had to yell to be heard over them all, he never spoke in anger– only ever at himself and his perceived failure. At the states involved in the War.

He was more stoic and stern the rest of the time, but was still glad to read them, especially the three Young States’– most of them had grown out of it by now–, stories and play the piano for them, teaching them to dance from the sidelines so that their mother could still dance as she pleased, but DC knows it pains his parents both that they can’t dance together as they used to.

The piano is played a lot more, though.

So yes, his Pa may be alive still- but he’s not Continental Congress anymore.

So was he really lying when he said Congress was no longer with them?

DC sighs heavily as he exits the meeting room, the three States following close behind.

“You aight, D?” West asks, “We know ya don’t like talkin’ ‘bout it.”

DC smiles at the three of them, a sad, strained thing.

“I am fine.” he reassures, though he knows it won’t soothe them entirely. “Let’s go, then, Ma wanted us back immediately after the Meeting.”

Six nervous glances, shuffling feet, before,

“Ok.”

Pop!

#wttt gov #wttt dc #wttt #family ties au #welcome to the table #welcome to the table au

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horseshoe-bay-ledger · 1 year

Text

Pancakes

This can be stand alone. Or you can take it as a follow up to ‘Statis’. Your call. Also I went into law not medicine so brace for inaccuracies.

It’s Ace’s turn to patch Nancy up, but what’s been unspoken between them comes to the fore when they’re alone together again.

— — —

Ace threw his keys on the bench and ventured further into his apartment in search of something to clean Nancy up. He wasn’t rushing, but there was an urgency to his gait somewhat uncharacteristic of him.

An encounter with what they would find out later to be a Kikimora—a house spirit—may or may not have roughed her around a little. Ryan’s fault. Long story.

But even worse, it had also left Nancy somewhat stranded and unable to sleep in her own home.

She’d considered just crashing at Icarus Hall for the night. It’s wasn’t like she hadn’t already been doing that more and more these days—she’d practically moved out.

Ace, however, had made a convincing argument that she should stay at his place. So convincing she couldn’t even remember why. Something about proximity and reciprocity and the blood running down her face.

So they had driven quietly over to his apartment. She was glad for how short the journey was because the air between them felt unnaturally heavy. An unfortunate byproduct of her trying to save his life.

Nancy had wordlessly followed him in and settled perched on the edge of a couch arm. In all the kerfuffle, she still hadn’t got out of Ace what he was doing at her house. She was also concerned, like the last time she was here, she would do something stupid — pull a tiny thread and everything she’d been holding for the past few months would completely come undone. A house of cards.

When Ace returned from the bathroom he didn’t say anything which was fine because sometimes they didn’t need words to understand each other—that was usually as easy as breathing.

She tentatively lowered the hand holding the cloth to her cheek. Ace took it from her so he could examined her hands and forearms. Which he did with great focus and a little reverence.

“They’ll probably just bruise,” she said.

Ace hummed in preemptive agreement, running two fingers down the length of her forearm. She ignored the buzzing his touch left behind on her skin. He seemed to decide there was nothing he could do and moved onto the most obvious thing that need his attention.

“I, uh,” Ace started, seemingly unwilling to finish.

“Oh, right,” Nancy said understanding. It was such an awkward angle that he would need some way to physically get closer to her to get access to the wound on her cheek.

She tried to awkwardly shift her legs and body one way and turn her upper torso and head towards him but it would be a difficult position to maintain. So a little reluctantly she parted her knees slightly so he could step between them.

He was careful to keep a barrier of distance between them as he gently picked out a piece of broken plate from her cheek, just under her eye.

“It’s not as bad as I thought,” he said as he cleaned the wound. “I’ve got a few butterfly stitches, I’d do it properly but…”

“You’ve never done it on someone alive before,” Nancy finished.

“Yeah,” he said. “They’ll do for now but we might have to deal with it properly at some point.”

He’d said that last bit in such a strange and tacked on way that it took its hooks in Nancy’s brain. Almost like he wasn’t talking about the cut on her cheek.

“You know me,” she said giving him a soft reassuring smile, “expert at dealing with my problems. Especially in a timely manner before they become disastrous and/or life threatening.”

Ace gave her a look. But the corner of his mouth ticked up.

He continued to work delicately and precisely on her cheek in a way that was so utterly becoming and so very Ace. His face came nearer and nearer as he moved closer to get a better view of what he was doing and get the placement dead on.

Only problem was she could feel his breath gently on her face, his fingers brushing her cheek. And, suddenly, any pain she was feeling now was an afterthought. What power he held.

He was close enough that he must have heard her own stuttered, uneven breathing. He was probably either deliberately ignoring it out of curtesy or ascribing it to the pain of her wound.

Intrusive thoughts about finally closing the space between them were starting to cloud her objectivity. This is why she’d been at pains to avoid him as much as possible. He always had this effect on her without even really trying. She was desperately trying to pull herself together even as she was falling apart. It was just that she felt so entirely unguarded because, when it came to Ace, having her guard up was the opposite of instinctual.

He pulled back to grab something from the table beside her and Nancy relished in the temporary respite to regain her composure that had been slipping oh so quickly. She swallowed thickly and tried to pull herself together.

“That’s the worst of it but there’s just another nick under your eyebrow,” Ace said. “I’ll clean it and fix it up and then we’re all set.”

To her relief, she had to close her eyes so he could do what he needed to do.

Here was another problem: Ace was doing a meticulous job of it. And Nancy was impatient as ever, not good at sitting still but doing her Nancy-best not to show it. Which is to say, that it didn’t fool Ace in the slightest. Not even for a second.

“Nearly there,” he reassured. And, like usual, it was not an empty reassurance but a true appraisal of the situation. In no time at all he stepped back to examine his handy work before directly meeting her eyes.

And then they were both practically stuck there, caught in the others gaze. There was a magnetism in it. She found herself unable to move but unable to look away either. Until he pointedly cleared his throat, somehow breaking their shared trance and glancing to the kitchen.

“Do you want… coffee?” He asked. Manners trying to kick in. Trying to treat Nancy how she wanted to be treated not as Nancy—no, like she was someone who stood further away from his soul.

“Ace, it’s 2am.”

“Right,” he said distracted, glancing at the clock.

He stood there awkwardly, fiddling with his own elbow. Utterly endearing, despite her better judgment.

“Or water?” He said, already moving backward to get it. “You’re probably, uh, thirsty. I should’ve got it straight away, but you’re were hurt—and the, the blood—”

“Water would be great,” she deliberately cut in, smiling softly. “Thanks.”

“O-kay,” Ace said finally pivoting around toward the kitchen. Except instead of doing that he rethought his direction mid spin, ending up doing a weird jolted 360 and facing Nancy once more. He opened his mouth as if to say something further, thought better of it and then did another spin and actually went to retrieve two glasses from the cabinet.

Jittery. Rambling. Intent. These here were dangerous waters. She heard him mutter something to himself as he filled up two glasses that she couldn’t quite make out.

Ace handed her glass to her, ever so slowly. Fingertips brushing in the hand over. Intentionally unintentional on both their parts.

And then there was an awkward silence, the kind that had rarely existed between them before life had got in their way. Ace swallowed thickly, his free hand twitching for a second, as if back towards her own. Nancy pretended not to notice. Ace pretended not to notice her notice.

He was looking at her intently a pace away but then suddenly he put his glass on the table beside her and stepped forward again, back into her space. She almost stumbled off her perch but his left hand on her waist steadied her before she could even begin to fall. He ran his other thumb gently under the wound on her cheek almost absentmindedly for a short while. Her eyes were trained on his face while she let him do it. He was just checking his handiwork she was sure. No matter how exposed it made her heart, she could live with this temporarily.

His eyebrows were knitted together slightly as he examined her cheek.

She gripped the glass in her hand tighter. Finally he drew his gaze away to meet her own.

“Does it hurt much?” He whispered as if he needed to know, even if he didn’t like the answer.

She swallowed. She could regain her breath. She could form words. They were easy things to do, why was she finding them so difficult? Her free hand was resting on his elbow, why was it resting on his elbow? For balance, she could probably rationalise. But she was hanging onto her plausible deniability by a thread here, Ace was bound to figure her out. A house of cards, she reminded herself. A thread not to be pulled.

“Not really,” she replied breathily. “I’ve had worse. Roller skate accident when I was 11.”

“Ah. Classic. Out at Spinning Heads?”

She nodded slightly—as much as his hand cupping her face would allow. It was an inane question but the way Ace was looking at her was anything but.

“You don’t always have to be so brave all the time,” Ace said.

She closed her eyes and took the deepest of breaths.

She could feel herself succumbing to this moment. A treacherous path this way led. But in moments like this, the danger felt inescapable. Her and Ace, inevitable. As easy and unavoidable as breathing. She could starve off the ending as long as she liked but it would always be hurtling towards her.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, her gaze filled with the multitude of emotions coalescing inside of her.

He continued to look at her, his thumb still tracing lines back and forth on her cheek, hand still on her waist. Despite fighting the instinct tooth and nail, she felt her eyes dip down to his lips and back up. And then again.

Ace’s eyes were still searching hers, clear, vulnerable, cautious, hopeful, longing.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” Ace said suddenly.

A simple fact. Something they both knew. But now he had said it aloud, it was real. And Nancy was terrified—terrified he would actually kiss her before she could bring herself to stop him and somehow terrified he wouldn’t. Panic was starting to set in.

“And I,” he swallowed gathering his courage. A muscle in his cheek ticking. “I think you want to kiss me too.”

He let it hang in the air for just a second. Nancy opened her mouth to respond with god knows what—another denial? An explanation? A diversion?

“I think you have for a long time,” Ace said before she could decide on a single syllable, “but there’s something stopping you. And it’s not you. And it’s not me. And it’s not us.”

Ace saved a lot of his words up sometimes, so they could come out fully formed, incredibly accurate and well tailored.

“And if I’m right, that’s okay,” he continued, “But you need to know that you’re not alone, in this or anything—no matter what.”

Nancy felt herself gently falling apart, the dam slowly breaking. It all she could do to blink back the tears filling her eyes, two had escaped before she’d even had the chance. As much as a confirmation to Ace of the truth of his words as anything.

“I also think there’s a very good reason you’re not telling me,” he paused, searching her face. “I trust you on that and back you a hundred percent. But I’m still here no matter what—no matter how much you try to push me away—“

She’d dropped her head, defeated.

She had no words left in her, just a lump in her throat she couldn’t seem to swallow.

“Hey,” he said gently, as she tilted her face back up. “This will be okay. I promise. We’ll work it out. Even if—even if we need to call in reinforcements.”

And, just as he always did, he said exactly the thing she needed to hear:

“You’re not alone,” he repeated gently. “You never have been.”

“I—“ Nancy started, still trying to choke back tears. But she didn’t have the words at that moment to describe what she was feeling or anyway to articulate what she needed to say. He’d so expertly pulled off the mask she’d been wearing, the sham of a wall she’d been building, as delicately and precisely as he’d tended her wounds mere minutes ago. So what more was there for either of them to say? Nothing. A lot.

Just when she thought she couldn’t be disarmed anymore he pulled her into the tightest of hugs.

Without hesitation she clutched him just as tightly. Silently leaning on his shoulder as they shared the weight of the world for a minute.

When they finally pulled apart, Nancy wiped the tears off her cheek with the back of her hands hurriedly, awkwardly avoiding the cut on her cheek.

“You, uh, you don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she said in acknowledgment.

“Exactly,” Ace said earnestly. “And you know how good I am at Taboo.”

Nancy unconsciously let out a wet laugh.

“Okay, don’t get too overconfident,” she said. “George had you covered last time.”

Ace shrugged as if he saw her point but he would never concede.

The air between them had lightened for a second but then the dread that had been lurking around Nancy for weeks and weeks came rushing back in all at once, suffocating her. As earth shifting as this was, it had in effect changed nothing about their situation. Reality hit her hard.

“What do we do now?” She asked, terrified, hardly above a whisper.

“I could make pancakes?”

Maybe everything had changed, just enough.

Nancy felt some of tension she had been holding constantly for months ebb out of her slowly. She gave him a watery smile as he tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

“I’d like that,” she said.

The right corner of Ace’s lips quirked up slightly in response

“But…” Nancy added playfully. “Only if we cook them in the oven.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Ace replied, very serious. “Don’t even.”

#I’m a fan of parts of this one #but not as a whole #but I wanted it off my mind before assessments #nancy drew #ace [redacted]#nace #nancy drew cw #cw nancy drew #nancy x ace #ace x nancy #fic #nancy #nace fic

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religious-psychosis · 8 days

Text

april 28, 2024 (4am)

this one is gonna be long.

i was really looking forward to today. i slept in a bit, got a whole, uninterrupted 8 hours of sleep. still not my normal amount, but good enough. Ari and i had plans to go out shopping for a bit and then come home and have some chill time alone.

this morning tho, sasha started fronting while lilly and i were getting ready.

lilly and i had come to an unspoken agreement - we knew we would probably be co-fronting while out, so we picked an outfit we both liked. this is usually hard because i (felix) am agender, transmasc questioning. lilly is a hardcore hyperfemme. finding outfits we're both okay in is hard, but i let her have whatever as long as it was darker, comfy, and a little grunge.

while lilly was doing grunge makeup, sash started fronting and took over makeup. it looked good - i don't like lipgloss, but lilly does so i didn't mind. sash fronting threw me off tho because she's been dormant for like. three months now. she even wore her cherry perfume.

me, lily, and cas have bracelets associated with us. we use them as identifiers. but sasha put them on so that she could stay connected to us and have something to ground her and remind her of the system. this was good, useful, effective. but.. too useful.

we went to a store where lilly was kinda forced to the front because it was very much her area. health and fitness and body image. she got some good things that she'll really enjoy. but we walked in and she saw the bathing suit aisle. she's sorta insecure about the body, but only because it doesn't suit her or the lifestyle she wants. it's not hate, just dissatisfaction. having to acknowledge that she doesn't look the way she wants made her panic a bit.

then we went to a beauty shop, and me and lils are co-con like 70% of the time while we're out anyway, but having sash co-con there too and cas in the vicinity was fucking exhausting and stressful. no one has one clear memory of our time at that shop, we just have a slightly collective blur. everything is a blur through most of the evening.

i remember that i ate dinner, but not eating. i remember that i showered, but showering is spotty. we were still all crowding the headspace and it was kinda overwhelming. we tried to hang out and mess around with Ari but it got too much for everyone who was co-con and we had a pretty.. pretty bad dissociative episode because we all wanted different things and had different boundaries.

cas took over after some panicking and arguing but it wasn't really useful by then as we all were tired (including Ari) and were too "traumatized" by the events to continue. things were just quiet and tense the rest of the night and i had another bad dissociative episode again a few hours later.

everything has gone wrong today. i'm just so tired.

#april 2024 #felix #did #rambles #journal #a lot of co-con #dissociative episode #appearance by sasha

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bekindtoyou4007 · 2 years

Text

Got a phone call out of the blue tonight which was a bit upsetting, bad news in extended family. Also questions about Xmas which put me on edge. But I kept things vague. I think I need to consider screening calls and messages more.

Today was a rough enough day, horrible parking difficulties meant I was late for a call out and client got annoyed before coming around. But the work itself was fine. I'm hoping to have made good money this week, when it eventually gets paid...

I treated myself to some nice face products like new primer as mine is running out. Shame the nice stuff is expensive. I might default back to cheap stuff if it doesn't turn out to be life changing... I bought a fancy winter coat last weekend which is gorgeous for social occasions but day to day I think I need to buy some sort of foldable waterproof so I can layer up easily...

I need to do some paperwork from home tomorrow but hoping I can do that before or after an afternoon swim. I'm trying not to dwell too much on the hard things right now. I cancelled dnd tonight to stay home and ended up largely doing things like tidying up and cooking a healthy meal, I'm having to cancel plans just to have the time and energy to do basic care things which sorta sucks. I was exhausted by the phone call earlier. I don't know how my aunt has the energy to do all that, she's constantly planning constantly socialising.

I am ashamed to say I'm happiest when not dealing with my family at all. Having to confess to my aunt my mother isn't speaking to me since getting married and hearing her jump to my mother's defence to say 'that's to be expected' without any reflection that it sucks a bit for me wasn't great of her. She automatically sided with my mother as part of that unspoken motherhood agreement they all seem to have. I didn't even relay the gross comment my mother made because I didn't want it to be met with more apologism. I guess I shouldn't be surprised given that's the aunt that knew all about domestic violence and parental conflict and thought it could be fixed by a few bbqs and everyone being told to be nice...

I respect that aunt for having given me a place to live for those months as a 17 y/o but I am continually frustrated by her old fashioned outlook that family is everything and you must always honour your parents no matter what. Some things aren't worth honouring. And I'm tired of explaining and defending myself. And I don't actually have to, at all.

Once again, ghosting the family seems to be the option.

#daily #20.10.2022

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calyxaomphalos · 2 years

Text

The Ghosts of Windy Ridge

Turn #99, three components

location #17 - Windy Ridge State Park (6) neighbor #4 - Cho (4) item #17 - gives me hope

Again with skipping the item, but I still felt reasonably good about the scene.

Turn #100 is a summary of the day

25 April 2022, Monday Evening

I went back to the cabin and had a small dinner, then thought I wanted to be somewhere with an expansive natural view for the sunset. I'd been thinking about what Zeb said, how most folks around here haven't been paying attention to what's been happening in politics. Maybe Hank's thing this Thursday will educate a few people. If I run into him before the gathering, I might have a few ideas and suggestions.

The sunset was calling, though, so I put my dishes in the sink for later and headed out to the Windy Ridge State Park. I wanted a view and a walk around, but climbing the Cloudbreak Mound seemed a bit much for right now. Part of me wanted to stop at the Mound anyway, because I'd have a good chance of running into Cho there. I hadn't seen Cho since last Thursday evening's gathering, Dani's magician show. She had seemed alright then, but it was only a few hours since I'd found her mysteriously incapacitated on the floor of Foras' lair.

Arriving at the park's main gate, there again was no ranger in the kiosk. I drove down the lane to the first parking area, parked my car and grabbed a pen, just in case. A short stroll back to the ranger kiosk was filled with the scents and sounds of a fine spring evening. A fresh supply of payment envelopes had been put into the display. I needn't had brought my pen, as a small cup here held several.

After I made my payment to the iron ranger, I went back to the car and grabbed a few things out of the trunk. It was nice now, but after the sun goes down, I'll want another layer. Then of course is the handy picnic basket with a ground cloth, a water bottle or two and some snacks. I buttoned up the car and then headed out on the walking trail which was the other end of the trail I'd climbed up and found those Alchemy playing cards with the help of Black Shuck.

I hadn't gone but a few yards down the trail from the parking lot when I saw someone coming the other way. Smiling and waving, I called out, "Yo, Cho!"

"Hey, Rennie!" Cho laughed as she approached. "Fancy meeting you here!"

The few steps between us closed quickly and we met in an embrace. "I've been worried about you," I said. "Everything alright?"

Cho let go of me and sighed. "Yeah, yeah. Things are OK. You haven't said anything to anyone about that afternoon, right?"

"No, of course not. Not even any word to Foras when I encountered him in the Great Hall the very next evening." Cho's eyes went wide at this revelation. I went on, "He's given me an ultimatum. I have to be gone by the end of the month."

"Oh, Rennie, what have we gotten ourselves into?"

By an unspoken agreement, we'd continued walking down the trail, away from the parking lot and toward the direction from which Cho had come.

"I talked to Mo yesterday," I started. "I'm afraid if Foras finds out I've talked to Mo since the last time I've seen him, he'll force me out of town. I still haven't found out all I need to know from Mo. I've got some papers of his that I checked out of the library at the Academy. I'm hoping that by the next time Mo makes contact with me, I'll have the right questions to ask him in order to get those answers."

Cho and I took a few more steps down the trail in silence. The sun was well on its way down now and the clouds were beginning to turn brilliant orange and red.

"I wanna thank you, Rennie. For not prying. You haven't even tried to ask me anything beyond how I am doing now. I appreciate it. Really."

"Relationships with spirits can be complicated. It's not my place to ask you anything about it. If you decide you want or need to tell me anything about it, you will, in your own time."

25 April 2022, Monday Night

It was fairly late by the time I got back to the cabin but I wanted to clean up my dinner dishes before turning in for the night. My day had started with a visit out to the Thompson Gap Mine. It was deserted. I wandered around the site for an hour or two and found nothing. I hadn't felt the presence of any spirits at all, either, other than the trees and rocks and wind.

My next stop of the day had been to the Great Hall to find out the topic of the upcoming Thursday evening gathering. Honestly, I'm kind of looking forward to it. Hank is doing a presentation on "The Insurrection at the Capitol on January 6th" and given the phrasing of the title, I imagine he's on the right side of democracy here. I only hope that the rest of the townsfolk are as well.

The evening sunset which had me rushing out leaving the dishes in the sink in the first place turned out to be a surprising encounter with Cho. If I'd tried to deliberately seek her out, I would have gone out to Cloudbreak Mound. That she was at the State Park instead and I'd just randomly decided to go there seemed like someone was on our side.

With the dishes done, I turned to the volumes of papers I'd checked out from the Academy library.

#the ghosts of windy ridge #writeblr #nanowrimo #over the mountain

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homespun-stories · 2 years

Text

Sounds like home

The noise outside our apartment is incessant. Drilling, digging, banging, beeping. “BIG DIGGER!” our toddler exclaims, every time we leave the building, as the only one who finds any joy in the construction works which have been taking place for over three months.

Needs must. The council is improving the drainage on our road to account for increasing numbers of cloudbursts in our climate-challenged future. And they’re reducing the number of lanes for cars, whilst maintaining the glorious raised and paved cycle path that means I can bike with my daughter to daycare and not panic about being blindsided by a bendy bus. We’ve even heard a rumour they’ll plant some trees in the midway, giving a more cosmopolitan feel to what has already been euphemistically called a ‘boulevard’. So I guess I can put up with the noise.

But it does set the mind wondering about what it might be like to live outside of the city. My daily life is soundscaped by what amounts to the continuous noises emitted by other people living and doing. We are one of 32 homes in a block of flats totaling over 100 homes arranged around a shared courtyard. I can never not hear the lives of others ricocheting off the walls; the squeals, groans, shouts, coughs and cries of existence bouncing off the brickwork and into my ears. A few weeks ago, my husband and I lay in bed at midnight, staring at the ceiling in the blue moonlight and cursing the asshole who decided to throw a party and leave their windows open. “We have to MOOOOOOVE”, I stage-whispered, frenzied by the need to sleep. When the music finally fell silent, our cat shuffled into life and started yowling for breakfast around 3am, followed by the dawn chorus of our daughter who believes it’s acceptable to wake her parents at 4:30am to ask for raisins. Soon the water pipes that rise up through every apartment were groaning and hissing into life, as people traipsed to the shower and put the kettle on. And before we knew it, the drilling, digging, banging and beeping began. And on it goes.

In 2006, I lived in New York for a stint. My first night in Hell’s Kitchen, propped up on an inflatable mattress in my friend’s studio apartment, was like trying to sleep during a Fast & Furious screening. Constant police sirens, every neighbourhood bar with its doors flung open, more than two people having a conversation… New York streetlife is expansive and vibrating with noise, every single minute of the day. It truly is the city that never sleeps, because who the hell can with all that racket going on? During that winter, there was a major snowfall that ground everything to a halt. Trains were canceled, roads were closed, people lost power and water for days - it was hard and sad, sure, but I just remember the silence. I padded out in my most sensible shoes and walked 25 blocks to the MoMA (defiantly open, despite the weather), listening to my breathing in a city that had finally been muffled by a thick, white blanket of snow.

I’ve lived in all kinds of homes, in all kinds of places, but I’ve never lived in the countryside. The closest I’ve come is the house my parents rented when we moved to the East Midlands, which sat on the very edge of a suburban housing estate and was flanked on the back by fields. It wasn’t unusual to find a cow trapped in our hedge, eating her way into our garden, but I never thought of it as ‘the country’. The lights of the nearby city were too bright, and the buses and cars that trundled down the main road were confirmation that the urban sprawl had us in its clutches. Even in the suburbs, other people living and doing is always in earshot; or, as my husband says, suburbia is defined by whether you can hear a lawn mower running on a summer’s day.

But this summer, we decamped to a house in the Danish countryside for a two week holiday - something we had talked about for years, but never pulled the trigger on until now. There was an unspoken agreement that we were tired of the city - tired of the soundscape - and needed a break so we could hear ourselves think. So we found a house in the middle of nowhere, about two hours and many, many country lanes away from Copenhagen, and ventured forth. It was the most middle-aged decision we have probably ever made.

The thing I quickly realised about the countryside is that it’s not actually quiet – it’s filled with noise. Most of these noises are things I’ve not heard before, like birdsong, and some are without evident source and chill your blood in the middle of the night. Digging, drilling, banging, beeping - you know where you stand with a big digger and an overweight construction worker. But scratching, shuffling, pecking, howling…? No thanks. Some might claim this is Mother Nature’s embrace, but I got the distinct impression that she wanted me gone and was releasing an army of creatures that don’t see the light of day in the city.

I couldn’t move for spiders, for a start, and as a lifelong arachnophobic I was faced with the daily gauntlet of undertaking basic tasks whilst being watched through multiple sets of eight eyes. There was one bird which had taken residence in the garden that let out a cry resembling a squeaky toy, and another that informed everyone the sun had risen by doing a perfect impression of Janice from Friends: “Ahhhhh-uh-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ahh”. The wasps and bees I could just about handle, but it took a Herculean effort to casually brush away the potato-sized hornet that landed on my husband’s back without alarming my daughter. If fear is contagious, then I felt toxic by that point.

Even when we sat indoors, with the windows closed against the advancing hoards of wildlife, it was never truly still. The ever-present flies smashed themselves against walls and doors as they endlessly worked their way throughout the house, sending my husband into a murderous rage with a fly swatter each evening. And one night we witnessed a biblical thunderstorm that suddenly bathed the bedroom in silky white light as the rain smashed down through the trees.

We spent most of our days driving away from the house to other places in the countryside or on the coast, craving a little civilisation other than the nearest supermarket. Whatever flirtation I had with being a country bumpkin was gone within days, as I realised that the sounds of living and doing in cities were the very reason I live and do in the city in the first place. Even when I went for a run, and witnessed two enormous nutbrown hares and a deer bound right past me, I had Lizzo blaring away in my ears. You can take the girl outta the city, etc etc.

We returned to Copenhagen with a camera roll full of memories and an urgent need to hit up our favourite cafe for coffee and baked goods. I walked with my daughter down the highstreet, smiling inanely at the various window displays and signage like I was on day release from residential care. The barista at the cafe met me with a big grin, and remarked that she hadn’t seen us in a while. “We’ve been away for two weeks but it feels like two years”, I replied with a sigh, unaware of the truth until it left my lips. It was the longest I had been away from Copenhagen in over seven years.

The profound irony is that summer is the best time to be in Copenhagen if you’re looking for a little peace and quiet, because the city empties out when every Danish family makes their annual pilgrimage to their summer house. More often than not, construction works are put on pause and plenty of local shops and restaurants shutter up for a wee break. In these passing silences, you become more aware of the absence of presence, or the presence of absence perhaps. And for almost four decades, I’ve lived a life in earshot of the presence of so many other lives that their absence feels like part of my home is missing.

The next morning, we awoke to the creak of the floorboards as our daughter made her way to our bedroom to put in some insane pre-dawn request, which our cat took as her cue to start smashing the blind against the window in disgust at our failure to put her food out. Before long, the water pipes started up their music, and I listened to our neighbour chatting with his kids over the bathroom sink. Soon the diggers would arrive, much to the delight of my daughter, and breakfast would be accompanied by the dulcet tones of a pneumatic drill.

It’s so good to be back home.

#LifeAtHome #FeelsLikeHome #Soundscape

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stonesandswords · 2 years

Note

Ground rules...

1. All three people have to be present for sex, two people can't just have sex together without the third. Maturation and threesomes are the only acceptable ways of getting off.

2. No sex or flirting or sexual innuendos or anything of the sort at the club or around the team (Richard and Colin really struggle with this one)

3. If one person wants out that's fine. It's is also equally fine if the other two want to continue sleeping together/exploring the dynamic.

4. After sex, all three of them have to at least have coffee together. Jan is not allowed make the coffee as he makes it too strong.

Doing at Richard's is an unspoken rule, they didn't make it a rule bit it just sort of happened. Jan didn't want them invading his space if it was just going to be sex and Colin didn't think his usually messy flat was the sexiest place and was certain Jan couldn't possibly fit into his bed that was smaller than Richard's. Since it happened at Richard's place the first night, it just became their sexy place. If they're hanging out with others and want to get to Richard's place, Jan and Colin will make an excuse to leave and the other will apologise to whoever they're with, explaining that they had planned to share a cab with the other (Colin and Jan live near each other so this is not suspicious) this usually takes place about ten mins after Richard has already left the club without saying goodbye and text them to let them know he'd be naked by the time they arrived. Everyone on the team was used to Richard leaving with a beautiful model without saying a word so nobody is suspicious about him leaving. They didn't tell anyone they were having sex but when they officially started dating, they told the team after a few months. Isaac cornered Colin and asked for the full story while Jan ans Richard explained the dynamic to Jamie who had many many questions and overall the news was received positively- following the announcement the three of them would just leave together and there ve a lot of winking/eyebrow wiggling from their friends. They don't have a rule about how many times per week but there is an agreement about not having sex at least two days before a match, this rule is torturous to Richard who is very intense during the post match reunion sex much to his boyfriends' delight. Also they always just take Uber's or walk to each other's flats, afraid that having their cars constantly parked outside each others places would raise questions from nosy neighbours.

I love the rules!

I especially love Jan not inviting them over because he doesn't want them to invade his space but then inviting them over for the first time to tell them he has feelings because hey! they've already invaded his heart, haven't they?

I'm curious about how them finally telling the team works out. I'm guessing Jan's the one to tell them with Colin blushing like mad and Richard just smiling along.

And what do they do for dates? How often are they going out versus staying in?

How often did they end up after like casual hangouts before/after sex before they all officially admitted they had feelings for each other and formally started dating? Like they had their post-sex coffee chats but does that ever evolve to watching movies together after sex? Making dinner together beforehand? Were they all ever "dating" before they were dating for real?

#colin x jan x richard #colin hughes #jan maas #richard montlaur #answered

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blushled · 3 years

Text

Love | Dallas Winston

MASTERLIST

other Tumblr: sunkissedspidey

taglist is open!

requests are open!

pairing: Dallas Winston x female!reader

summary: Your relationship with Dally was always weird, you weren’t dating and you definitely weren't just friends. But after he almost loses you, he realizes just how much he needs you.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it), language, angst, fluff, etc.

word count: 3.7k+

a/n: Please forgive me for how gross and choppy this is! This is the first thing I’ve written in months!! Sorry for any spelling and/or grammar errors!

Your relationship with Dally had always been a little weird. Not by much, but definitely compared to the other guys.

You were the only chick in the group, and everyone in it had a phase at some point where they were completely enamored with you, all expect for Darry, mostly because he saw you as a little sister. But it was always special with Dally.

You had met Dally, and the rest of the guys, when you were 15, right after he had gotten back to Oklahoma from New York. You two were always close, and you were the only person he had ever opened up to, so it's no wonder that you two had lost your virginities to each other, and still have casual sex to this day. The both of you had an unspoken agreement to not tell anyone, but Soda had walked in on the two of you one time, so now it was only you three that knew the secret.

Anyways, regardless of the hours upon hours of sex that was shared between you at least once a day, your relationship was closer than anyone else in the group, even stronger than yours and Soda's, despite the fact that the two of you had been best friends since second grade.

You never really cared about the fact that Dally was sleeping with other people. I mean, it's not like you weren't doing the same thing. You'd had sex with Dally, then Soda one night after you had both gotten absolutely hammered beyond belief, and even Peter Torlini from school a few times. But it always was better with Dally. Not just because he was amazing in bed, but because you were positive that you were head over heels in love with him. And, goddamn, if he didn't feel the same way, he was amazing at faking it. Like, you don't always have that sort of connection with someone when you have sex. Your bodies became one, and you knew exactly what the other needed at that exact moment. Who knows... maybe he was just good in bed and knew what you needed because you had been having sex for so long, or maybe... just maybe; he felt the same way for you that you did for him.

***

"Fuck, Dally! Oh, my god!" You moaned out, his cock so deep inside of you that it had your head spinning.

"Goddamn," He breathed out, his face close to yours, same with the rest of his body, as he pumped into you at a fast, steady pace, a slight sheen of sweat covering both of your trembling, naked bodies. "You're so fucking good and tight for me. 'M not gonna last much longer, Y/N." He groaned out, his breathing heavy, along with yours, as he thrusted even deeper. He wrapped his arms underneath your head, tugging on your hair as you scratched down his back.

"God, please cum for me, Dallas." You moaned, his pace quickening even more so, leaving you screaming as your eyes squeezed shut tightly, your orgasm crashing over you, your walls clenching so tightly around his cock that he couldn't help but cum, quickly pulling out and helplessly spilling his seed all over your stomach as he let out load, drawn out moans, before his muscles gave out and he collapsed back on top of you.

Your hands ran into his hair as he gave you another hot, passionate kiss before rolling over next to you on your bed, reaching over onto the night stand to grab two smokes and a lighter, passing one to you before lighting both of them up, as you both smoked, and exhaled, simultaneously, your brains started to feel foggy with euphoria as the nicotine began to enter your bloodstreams at the same time.

***

A few weeks later, you and the rest of the guys were sitting around, just talking about nothing in particular, only until Two-Bit brought up a fun topic.

"I got it!" He said, a large smirk on his face. "Best lay... Aaand... Steve, go!" Pointing at the brunette with both hands shaped as guns.

"Uhm... Probably Gracie. Big tits." He laughed out, a smoke in between his teeth.

Everyone erupted with laughter, Ponyboy and Johnny rolling their eyes and turning their attention to the cartoons on the small television.

"Y/N! Your turn!" Two-Bit said, laughing as he took a sip of his third beer.

"Not telling." You laughed as you sat on the countertop. You rolled your eyes heavily and let out an annoyed sigh as everyone booed at you. "Ugh, fine," You said, closing your eyes. "Uhm, I'm not saying the name, but he was tall with brown eyes, massive dick, and goddamn, he knew how to use it well, dark hair, and also the best kisser I've ever met before."

Dally automatically knew that you were talking about it, a smirk spreading across his face as you enthused about just how good the "mystery man" was in bed.

*** You and Dally sat in your old, run down car, eating Dairy Queen and talking about nothing in particular.

"You wanna know something funny?" He asked before licking the melting ice cream off of his waffle cone.

"Always." You smirked, turning the music playing on the radio down a bit so you could hear him more clearly.

"You're the best I've ever had, too." He said, smirking as your cheeks lit up a bright pink shade at his words.

"And why's that, Mister Winston?" You laughed, your eyes meeting his again as he leaned in closer to you, using his free hand to circle around your clit over your underwear, your skirt covering Dally's hand from the wrist down, your eyes slowly rolling back as you moaned quietly into his mouth.

"That's just one of the reasons. You're so goddamn sensitive and I fucking love it." He laughed when you whined after his touched left you, a small huff of anger leaving your lips at the loss of contact.

After a few seconds, you grabbed his ice cream and shoved it in an empty cup, his eyes meeting your with confusion before you moved over the center console to straddle him, your lips immediately going to his as you grinder your hips together, small groans leaving both of your mouths. You tugged at his leather belt, unbuttoning his jeans after, sliding his boxers down, your mouth watering at the sight of his hard cock.

He reached around your waist and lifted your tight shirt off of you quickly, his soft lips moving to kiss all over your breasts and he left the occasional hickey, his cool, slender fingers i clipping your bra, before he started kissing up and down your neck until you were begging for more.

"Dally, please." You whimpered, your body trembling from want.

He moved your underwear over to the side, right before his cock slammed into you as he pulled your hips flush against his, both of you letting out moans because of how fucking amazing it felt.

"Fuck, Dally! Shit, you feel so fucking good!" You screamed out, glad that it was night and that no one was around the two of you.

"Goddamn, you're so fucking tight-" He said before a groan cut him off, his hands gripping your waist even tighter, bruises sure to be left there (not that you were complaining in the slightest).

One of his hands moved down to your clit, rubbing it in harsh, fast circles as his eyes rolled back, your head dipping down to suck dark purple bruises onto the soft, pale skin of his neck, his hips thrusting up to meet yours in sync, his cock hitting inside of you deeper and deeper with each thrust, the other of you chasing yourself highs as best as you could.

Your eyes clenched shut tightly as you bit down on muscles of his shoulder, your orgasm crashing over you so strongly that you could barley breathe. Dally's arms wrapped around you, scratching up and down your back and you tugged harshly at his hair, knowing that he was coming close.

"Cum for me." You whispered into his ear, biting down slightly on his earlobe, and then that was it. He came with a cry of your name and a load groan, his cum coating your walls as you clenched around him tighter, his teeth sinking into your breasts as he continued to thrust up into you until his muscles gave out. Your collective breathing was heavy as you both came down from your highs, his hair sweaty as you ran your fingers through it, the smell of sex and cigarettes lingering in the small, cramped car.

"Goddamn," He said, laughing as you sat back, moving your hair out of your eyes. "That was fucking amazing."

"Isn't it always?" You smiled cockily, grinding your hips once more, causing another load moan to come from Dally's throat, partially because it felt amazing and partially because he was so fucking sensitive.

"What'd I turn you into?" He smirked, biting down on the skin of your neck softly, his perfect teeth skimming your jaw as he made eye contact with you again.

"A sex addict." You said simply, a smile breaking across your face as Dally started laughing at your blatant tone, his head tipping up to kiss you softly and slowly.

The two of you had made an agreement not to do anything with anyone else after a while, figuring that it would save the both of you from getting jealous because, even though you weren't official, the both of you were super mad every time you walked in on the other with a different person.

*** "Oh my god, fuck off!" You yelled, laughing as Soda had beaten you in poker for the fifth time that night, the rest of the guys whooping and cheering as you flipped them all of, taking your shirt off, a black bra the only thing covering your chest. Strip poker was a weird game to play with a big group of your closest friends, but it had been a favorite of everyone's for years. Dally stood in the corner, a cigarette in between his teeth as he stared you down, his eyes dark with oust and squinted with anger.

"Alright," You said, standing up and putting your shirt back on, boos coming from the guys. "I think that's enough for me tonight."

You made your way to the bathroom of the Curtis' house, putting your hair up in a ponytail before you washed the dark eyeliner surrounding your eyes off, using a rag to dry your face before changing into an extra t-shirt and pajama shorts that you always kept there, since everyone usually spent the night there.

You walked out into the dark hallway, making your way to the living room before Dally pushed you up against one of the walls, his lips meeting yours harshly as one of his hands made its way into your loose shorts, his long, slender figures toying with your clit as you tried your best to control the volume of your moans.

"Never, fucking never, pull that shit again. You got that? You know how fucking hot you are, and you know how those dudes think about you." He said, his voice low and commanding, but a tone of sweetness underlying in it.

You knew that he wasn't mad, he was just worried, even though there's no way in hell that he would ever admit that to anyone. He was your best friend, and you were his.

*** "Oh, come on, Dally. It's not even that bad. It's just a movie." You whined, gripping onto his denim jacket.

"It's a stupid movie." He laughed as your head sunk even lower, your lower lip stick out as you widened your eyes, your face jokingly pleading.

"Dallyyy, pleaseee?" You dragged out, kissing his neck softly.

"Fine. But if I hate it, it's on you." He laughed as you squealed, leaning over and kissing his cheek. And after a second you both looked at each other and then moved away, realizing that you were acting more like a couple than like fuck buddies.

"I'm- uh- I'm gonna go home. Gotta get ready, ya know?" You said, standing up from the couch at Dally and Buck's place, grabbing your purse and jacket, and waving goodbye to the brunette that had your heart.

***

As you made you way back over to Dally's, you checked how you looked in the reflection of a storefront window. Your tight white t-shirt clung to your body perfectly, your black ripped jeans hugged your frame, and you had on your favorite jacket. A thick, worn, black leather one that all of the guys had gotten you for your birthday after they had pooled their money together, a switchblade, a pack of smokes, and a lighter in one of the pockets. Your black eyeshadow and eyeliner was done perfectly, and was an amazing contrast to your bright red lipstick.

"Dally!" You smiled, wrapping him in a small, short hug when we opened his door, throwing a shirt on and leading you down the street towards the drive in.

***

"I'm gonna go get some popcorn." You said to Dally, smiling as you stood up from one of the cheap, grey folding chairs.

"Be careful." He said, handing you some money before turning his attention to the movie that he claimed was stupid.

"Medium popcorn and a large Coke with two straws, please." You said to the worker at the concessions stand, handing him the money in exchange for your food and drink.

You walked out of the concessions stand, making your way back until some shuffling on the side of the building caught your attention. You turned your head, and the second you did, you instantly regretted it. You saw Dally making out with Polly Winchester, her hands running through his hair as he pinned her against a wall. His eyes met with your for a second and he instantly pulled away, his lips smeared with her red lipstick and his breathing hard.

"Oh shit." He said quietly, walking over to you, trying to take your hands in his, put you instantly pulled away.

"You fucking asshole." You said calmly, turning away towards the exit before he grabbed your arm, and then you snapped. "Don't fucking touch me!" You screamed, the people sitting near you turning to look at the two of you.

"Y/N, I'm sorry." He said, trying his best to reach out for you agin until you took the top off of your drink and threw it in his face.

"Fuck. You." You said clearly, finally being able to turn and walk away, tears filling your eyes as you walked back to your house.

***

A few days later, practically in the middle of the night, you were sitting on your bed, a cigarette in one of your hands as you used the other to flip through your favorite book, music softly playing on your record player in the background as you tried your best to ignore the ache in your heart at the fact that Dally was practically fucking a chick against a wall right in front of you.

A knock on your front door shook you out of your daze, ashing your cigarette before making your way down the hall to your front door. The second you opened it, your heart sank, your stomach dropping as you saw Dallas standing there, a pleading look on his face.

"C-can I come in?" He asked quietly, his hands stuffed into his pocket.

You didn't say anything, you just opened your door more and stepped to the side, allowing him to walk into your small house.

"What do you want? Another pack of smokes? I have some on the counter and a Coke in the fridge and then you can go back to the drive in so that you don't have to pay." You said blankly, sitting down on your couch as flipping through a book that was on your coffee table.

"No, I don't need any of that. I just wanna talk." He said, standing next to the couch awkwardly.

"About what? About how you basically fucked Polly during a movie that we were supposed to be watching together? About how you ditched me to go stick your dick in some whore on the side of a goddamn building?!" You said, not being able to control your volume as you stood up looking at him, absolutely fuming.

"Yeah, pretty much." He answered, not knowing what else to say.

"You promised me, Dally. You fucking promised." You said, your eyes boring into his.

"I know, but listen-" He tried to say before you cut him off.

"No, Dally. You listen to me. You are such a lying fucking asshole! I can't believe I ever thought that we could be something other than friends with benefits." You said, your eyes becoming puffy. "Fuck you, Dallas Winston. I never want to see you again." You said calmly through your teeth, silently seething. You turned towards the hallway to go into your room, before Dally grabbed your arm, your eyes meeting his again, both of your eyes red as silent tear streamed down your faces simultaneously.

"Please, Y/N." He said, his voice not much louder than a whisper. "Please don't leave me."

"You've never listened to me when I've asked you not to leave... Why should I listen to you?" You asked quietly.

"Because I love you, Y/N. More than I've ever loved anything in my entire life. More than smokes and parties and beer. More than sleep and sex and rumbles. So please, Y/N... Please don't leave. And I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"I love you too, Dally. So much more than you'll ever be able to know."

At this point, his hands were tangled in yours, your faces close together as you both finally admitted your true feeling for one another after all of this time.

"You do?" He asked, shock evident in his voice. "You love me?"

"Of course I love you, Dally. I've loved you ever since we were kids." You whispered, your lips only inches apart.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks softly, his hands going slowly and tenderly up to your neck.

"Please."

And with that, you lips met in the most perfect kiss you could ever think of, like your lips were pieces of a puzzle and were made to fit perfectly together. After a few minutes it grew more passionate, more lust filled.

His hands went down to the back of your thighs, gripping them tightly as you jumped up to wrap your legs around his waist. The two of you continued kissing as he walked the both of you to your room. He placed you softly on your bed, kissing down your body as he lifted an oversized white t-shirt, that just so happened to be his, over your head. He kissed all over your chest and your neck, only stopping for a few seconds to shed off his leather jacket and black shirt, before immediately going back to your lips to kiss you as you moaned into each others mouths while your hips grinned against each other's.

"Dally, please." You moaned, your hands smoothing over his back.

"Please what?" He asked, looking at your with swollen red lips, a beautiful contrast to his pale skin.

"Make love to me." You whispered, your lips close to each others until he closed the distance between your mouths.

He kissed down your neck, chest, and stomach again as he pulled your shorts off of you, moving to kiss your inner thighs as you whined from the feeling that you missed.

He stood up again to unbuckle his belt, taking his pants off not shortly after. You pulled him back on top of you, reveling in the feeling of his bare skin against yours. He took his length in is hands, lining it up with your entrance before stopping for a few seconds to stare deeply into his big brown eyes.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too." You replied before you met your lips with his again.

The second he thrusted slowly inside of you, you both let out moans at the amazing feeling. he started with a slow, tender pace as you breathed heavily into each others mouths, your eyes still staring into the others.

"Oh my god." You moaned out, eyes finally shutting tightly as he continued to pump into you, his pace quickening as his groans started to grow louder and loader, along with your moans.

"Fuck, I love you so-" He said, getting cut off as he groaned loudly. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Dally- Fuck!" You screamed, the feeling of him being inside of you so goddamn intense that you could barely speak coherently.

And then it made sense. Every feeling that you had ever had for him made so much sense. Every time that he would look at you and smile at the completely ordinary thing you were doing, every time that he told you to call him when you got home, every time that his figures brushed against yours while watching a movie made sense. He had loved you even longer that you had loved him. From the second your eyes met his when you met, he was absolutely head over heels in love with you. He had never realized how much he needed to tell you until he almost lost you, until he realized how much he needs you.

"Dally, I'm not gonna last much longer." You moaned, lips moving to kiss the sides of his clan shaven face and his smooth forehead.

"N-neither am I. Fuck, please cum for me, Y/N. Please. God, I love you." He moaned before his head dipped down to meet your lips with his.

And with a few more thrusts, you were completely spiraling underneath him, your whole body trembling as you came at this same time, his final few thrusts harder and deeper than before until he finally collapsed on top of you, his lips going to kiss your red cheeks as you both breathed heavily.

"I love you so much. Please be mine, Y/N. Please." He said, his lips skimming yours.

"I love you more, Dally. And I'll be yours, forever and ever and ever." And with that, you both fell asleep, all sweaty and gross. But you were sweaty and gross and happier than you had ever been before.

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Getting Bored - part 3 - ao3 - tumblr pt 1, pt 2

Perhaps it was merely the competent coordinator in him, but Jin Guangyao truly appreciated clever schemes working out exactly as planned, even if he was the one being schemed against.

It didn’t count when it was a matter of chance, like Nie Mingjue finding him in the middle of committing a murder – that was his own fault for not paying better attention, not planning better, and to a certain degree simply his bad luck – but rather, when there was a deliberate effort to set up the circumstances in such a way as to leave an enemy with no retreat and no way out but to react exactly as you wish…

Beautiful.

Annoying, of course, when it interfered with his own plans. But a pleasure to observe nonetheless.

Sadly, his father did not take such things as calmly as he did.

By this point, Jin Guangyao was able to repress his flinch at the sound of something expensive breaking as it was thrown against the wall.

“Motherless bastard, son of a whore!” Jin Guangshan hissed, and it was only the fact that he was glaring out the window of the inn they were staying at in Yiling that let Jin Guangyao conclude that he was not referring to himself. “How dare he pull a thing like his – and at Yiling, no less? The sheer gall of it –”

The gall, Jin Guangyao presumed, was in outwitting Jin Guangshan and outdoing the Jin sect at their own game. It had to be that, because in all other respects it was a masterful stroke: the Yiling Patriarch implicitly realigning himself with the Jiang sect by acting in the role of Jiang Cheng’s shixiong in hosting the announcement of the marriage between Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng, the Nie sect’s agreement with that location representing their endorsement of Wei Wuxian’s return to the cultivation world and the end of the ostracization the Jin sect had worked so hard to accomplish, while the marriage itself represented the formation of an iron-solid alliance between the Nie and Jiang sects that in a single stroke rendered the Jin-Jiang marriage alliance null – since after all, Jiang Cheng would be bound to put his husband’s requests above those of what, in the end, was merely a married-out sister.

(The fact that Jiang Cheng adored his sister unreasonably and wasn’t the sort to listen to husbandly authority was irrelevant. Jin Guangyao might be smart enough to use that, but Jin Guangshan wasn’t.)

Or perhaps what truly galled Jin Guangshan was how, while they had all been absorbing the implications of the news they had received along with the invitation, Jin Zixuan had loudly – and publicly – exclaimed that it was wonderful, joyous news and that he wished Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue a long and happy life together.

Obviously, that would have had to be the public response regardless, but there were ways of saying it and there were ways of saying it. Jin Zixuan’s exclamation hadn’t allowed for any nuance or implication or rumor-mongering, nothing that they could have done to salvage the situation and try to use it as another way to strengthen their sect by weakening the others.

They could have implied that this union in fact represented Nie Mingjue’s hot-headed impulsiveness, even irrationality, hinted at unspoken but well-known things about Nie Mingjue’s longevity and mental state – suggested that Jiang Cheng was trying to take advantage of those things, marrying himself off for a political benefit while only counting a few years in cost…but it was no point in thinking of those things now.

Now, thanks to Jin Zixuan, the only thing they could do was come to this little inn in Yiling and grit their teeth and smile, their lips full of well-wishes they didn’t mean in the slightest.

Moreover, while Jin Guangshan saw the entire thing as little more than an exercise in frustration in his proper heir, who he believed to be too noble and chivalrous to think of the implications before he spoke, Jin Guangyao had seen the faint smile on Jin Zixuan’s face right before he’d spoken, and the expression on his face upon hearing the news hadn’t been surprise.

He’d known, and judging by the pleased but not shocked expression on Mistress Jiang’s face, the source of his knowledge was clear. Jin Zixuan had known, and he’d spoken deliberately; he’d locked his sect into expressing only joy at the union, undermining all their plans, and he’d done it on purpose.

Jin Guangyao was dying to know how Nie Mingjue had arranged that.

Because he had, of course. Jin Guangyao had immediately quizzed his contacts at the Lotus Pier, and they all confirmed that the marriage wasn’t anything as pedestrian as a mere love match – Nie Mingjue had explicitly proposed on the basis of mutual benefit for their sects, and Jiang Cheng had accepted on those self-same grounds. He had even announced it to his sect in that fashion, explaining some of the benefits he believed the arrangements would bring to the Lotus Pier and assuring them that he would never forsake their interests even as he planned to spend at least one month in every three at Qinghe.

If it had been a love match, Jin Guangyao wouldn’t have been that impressed. It didn’t take a genius to fall in love and luck out into a political move that shook the world, especially since Nie Mingjue’s luck had always been irritatingly good, but to deliberately plan and execute such a move – not only the alliance itself, but to also use the arrangement as an excuse to get the Yiling Patriarch and all his tricks and toys onto the side of the Nie sect when days before he had been an enemy to all the world – to use Wei Wuxian in turn to obtain instant approval from the Lan sect, given Lan Wangji’s inexplicable fondness for the man and Lan Xichen’s desire to please his brother – to even use Jiang Cheng’s connection to Jin Zixuan to undermine the Jin sect’s ability to fight back – to do it all at once –

Beautiful. Truly beautiful.

He hadn’t thought Nie Mingjue had it in him, to be honest.

All that talk about honor and doing the right thing and all that – he’d long assumed that it was mere naïveté, the mind of a child in the body of a man trying to play at politics, that Nie Mingjue was a blunt instrument good only for war. In such circumstances, especially with what happened between them in the past, it was only reasonable for Jin Guangyao to break with him fully and support his father instead.

But now that he knew that Nie Mingjue was actually capable of such a clever ploy…

Jin Guangyao watched without expression as his father continued to break his own things in his impotent anger, like a toddler having a tantrum that wouldn’t change anyone’s decisions one bit.

Perhaps it was time to start reconsidering which horse he was backing in this race.

Jiang Cheng hadn’t expected Wei Wuxian to have such a passion for planning his wedding, although in retrospect he really should have. After all, they’d always schemed together as children about the sort of wonderful grandiose wedding they were going to ensure that Jiang Yanli would have, and yet when the time came it had not been possible to include Wei Wuxian in the actual wedding planning or even execution.

He was clearly getting his feelings out about all of that by insisting on micromanaging every possible aspect of this wedding.

Since Jiang Cheng didn’t actually have the patience or interest to argue with the merchants regarding the exact shade of the streamers to be used to decorate the Lotus Pier, he was happy to let Wei Wuxian run wild with it.

He’d worried a little a first – Wei Wuxian was still the Yiling Patriarch, after all, feared and loathed by all – but bizarrely enough everyone seemed to be taking his return to the cultivation world in stride, as if they’d all collectively forgotten that they’d forced Jiang Cheng to expel him from the Jiang sect less than a year before. He’d even heard some of the smaller sect leaders arguing that as adherents to the Jiang sect, they ought to get first access when Wei Wuxian started selling genuine versions of some of his new inventions.

On the basis of Wei Wuxian’s close connection to the sect that had raised him, no less!

Maybe it was only that it was very hard to be afraid of man shouting about how the mandarin ducks in Jiang Cheng’s wedding robes had to be sewn in proper gold thread, none of this half-assed yellow business, didn’t they know that Jiang Cheng had a complexion that would be faded out by yellow?

Still, with that worry settled, Jiang Cheng had very happily allowed Wei Wuxian to use his wedding as a means of reintroducing himself to the cultivation world and settling back into something vaguely resembling his original role as Jiang Cheng’s shixiong – no longer part of the same sect, unfortunately, not the Twin Heroes he’d hoped for when he was younger, but so much better than the unthinkable alternative that he wasn’t angry, only grateful.

Of course, there were some aspects of the wedding preparation that Wei Wuxian couldn’t help with.

Jiang Cheng’s face burned as he looked down at the books on his desk, both the ones he’d already reviewed and the (much larger) pile of books still to go, as well as the study guide he’d been writing for himself on the side. He’d had to steel his spine and ask Nie Huaisang for them, but luckily Nie Huaisang – who was enjoying spectating the wedding planning, since what he was doing couldn’t really be considered helping – had been, as always, a reliable source for such things.

Such…pictures.

Jiang Cheng was getting married, after all, and it wasn’t as though he’d had the mechanics of how cutsleeves did things explained to him during that extremely awkward conversation in his early teens about how babies were made. That talk had been traumatizing enough that he’d properly refrained from doing anything at all with anyone, much less another man, and as a result he had to try to figure things out from the beginning.

It was possible that Nie Mingjue was more educated in such matters than he, and would be able to act as a guide for him, but the idea of making some sort of amateur mistake made Jiang Cheng’s skin crawl. He wasn’t the genius Wei Wuxian was, confident in getting everything right the first time he tried no matter how unprepared he was.

Studying up in advance was the only solution.

Even if it did make his face hot and his breath come too fast and require occasional breaks from the work to go walk around the Lotus Pier until his heart rate came down to something more normal.

(Jiang Cheng secretly suspected that he didn’t feel desire the way other people did – he’d never looked at a person and gone oh yes I like the look of that the way it usually got described, never granted anyone more favors because they were pretty, never felt like he was missing out on something by not having someone in his bed – but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy getting off. In theory, having someone to assist with that would be even better, and he...didn’t know what to do with that.)

Gritting his teeth, Jiang Cheng picked up another book. Not pictures this time, he noted to his relief, although he’d found that some of the narrative texts managed to be even filthier than the explicit images, all implication and suggestion and no wrong faces to get in the way of him imagining himself in that position.

This book, though, started pretty slow. It was well-written, taking the time to flesh out the characters and actually throw in a bit of plot to keep the background from being too boring, though of course the focus remained on the two main characters getting closer together – which they did slowly and cautiously, rather than jumping straight into bed together the way it was in most such books. There was a lot more emphasis on kissing and on their general reticence and growing familiarity around each other, perfectly reasonable given that the characters weren’t that close to each other to start with.

It was a nice change, obviously much more applicable to the situation that he and Nie Mingjue were in than in some of the other books where there was nothing but smut, and Jiang Cheng found himself reading it quite avidly, wanting to find out what happened next, and it wasn’t until he was nearly three-quarters of the way through and the first spring scene had actually cut out before describing the actual contents of the relevant activity that he abruptly realized that the stupid book wasn’t pornography at all, but a romance.

He scowled at the book, which was good enough to finish anyway but still, what a waste of time! Why had Nie Huaisang put this in with the rest of them?

After all, Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue weren’t in a romance – this was a political arrangement, not a love-match. It was all hard-nosed logical decision-making, cost-benefit analysis. Emotions didn’t play a role in it at all, and that was just how Jiang Cheng wanted it, given the mess emotions had made of his parents’ marriage.

Sure, Jiang Cheng enjoyed Nie Mingjue’s company. He found the man interesting and engaging, and enjoyed being around him regardless of whether they were actively doing something or merely sitting in a comfortable shared silence.

Sure, kissing him made Jiang Cheng’s heart race and his face go red, while embracing him made him feel warm. The thought of going to bed with him filled Jiang Cheng with anticipation rather than revulsion – he still didn’t look at Nie Mingjue and break him down into pieces, thinking nice legs or good ass or anything like that, but he thought he could enjoy touching him and being touched in return, and imagining it with him was far more interesting than imagining it with anyone else.

And, yes, sure, it was a bit like that character in the book had put it, that being with him was better than being without him, and being without him felt lonely as it never had before –

…wait.

Wait.

Oh, shit.

“So, I think I might have messed something up,” Jiang Cheng said, bursting into the room that set aside to be Nie Mingjue’s office during the time he would spend at the Lotus Pier, since with it being one month out of three there was bound to be days when they had to deal with confidential sect business that the other couldn’t be involved in. He looked as if he had run the entire way.

Nie Mingjue pushed his papers away. “Is someone dead or imminently dying? Are we going to war?”

Jiang Cheng paused and frowned, distracted from his panic. “No, it’s not that sort of problem.”

“Then there’s time left to fix it,” Nie Mingjue said. Death was irreversible, war was catastrophic, everything else was negotiable – or stab-able. The Nie sect was a very practical sect. “Sit down and tell me what happened from the beginning.”

Jiang Cheng looked relieved at receiving clear instructions, something Nie Mingjue had noticed from early on – it seemed to help his anxiety to know that there was someone keeping their head. Ironically enough, Jiang Cheng himself was excellent at keeping his own head in front of the sort of injustice that sent Nie Mingjue out of his mind with rage; he immediately defaulted to planning on what to do, which in turn calmed Nie Mingjue down.

They were really a very good match, he thought to himself, pleased; it was just as he’d suspected – or, perhaps more accurately, hoped.

Jiang Cheng sat down. “Okay,” he said. “Right. I messed up –”

“Non-fatally.”

“…yes, non-fatally. But I still did mess up, and it involves you.”

Nie Mingjue arched his eyebrows.

“I understand that our marriage is an arrangement designed to better both our sects,” Jiang Cheng said. He was now staring fixedly at the wall a little over Nie Mingjue’s head. “But I appear to have developed…feelings.”

Nie Mingjue managed not to flinch, primarily out of years of practice of attending truly gruesomely awful discussion conferences.

That was a disappointment, especially as things had seemed to be going so well. It had always been a risk, he supposed, and one he knew to prepare himself for, although it did come as something of a surprise – especially this late in the process. Nie Mingjue hadn’t seen anyone around Jiang Cheng that he thought might be a likely person for it.

“For whom?” he asked, remaining calm. If the person was inaccessible, or someone who might be joined into the marriage, then the deal was still salvageable – certainly his father hadn’t complained – but if this was a sticking point…

Jiang Cheng blinked at him owlishly. “What? What do you mean for who? For you, obviously!”

Now it was Nie Mingjue’s turn to blink. His heart turned over in his chest, abruptly twisting the sting of disappointment into the pleasure of a nice surprise, but mostly what he felt was confusion.

“Okay,” he said, scowling a little, “what’s the problem, then?”

Jiang Cheng looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “That is the problem! It’s one thing entirely to make an agreeable business decision with someone you like well enough, friends can do anything, but it’s not exactly the sort of feeling you get for friends.”

“We’re…going to be married, though?”

“Yes! Exactly! Feelings in a marriage lead to jealousy, jealousy leads to stupid irrational behavior, which leads to resentment, which poisons the entire relationship –”

“A-Cheng,” Nie Mingjue said, feeling as though he might be allowed. “Marriages are supposed to cultivate feelings.”

Jiang Cheng frowned.

“Not everyone is your parents. Most people, in fact. You reach an agreement with someone you respect, you marry, you put in the work necessary to turn that respect into feelings you can use to base a lifetime together on – what do you think all that practice we’ve been doing is the foundation for?”

“But…”

“Jealousy doesn’t necessarily lead to resentment,” Nie Mingjue explained. “As long as the feelings are reciprocated, a little jealousy can be – not a problem.”

Sometimes very much not a problem, not that Nie Mingjue personally suffered from that taste.

(He was not going to explain the details of his own parents’ relationship, however useful an example it might be in this context. If Jiang Cheng wanted an explanation of how people could end up eroticizing jealousy and sexual possessiveness to the point that watching their beloved implicitly reject them in favor of another went from being distressing to exciting, he could ask Nie Huaisang about it.)

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng said, and looked relieved.

He wasn’t the only one.

“How did this come up, anyway?” Nie Mingjue asked.

“Oh, I was reading a book,” Jiang Cheng said, and for some reason he flushed a little. “It depicted a romance that reminded me of how you and I interact, and my feelings on the subject, and, well…”

“What book?”

Jiang Cheng pulled the book out of his sleeve – it was one of Nie Huaisang’s favorite romance novels, Nie Mingjue could identify it on sight based on how many times he’d seen his brother flipping through it and sighing – and tried to offer it over, only when he did another book that had somehow gotten stuck up to the back of the first one fell down to the floor, landing on its spine and falling open.

The page it fell open to was illustrated. Vividly.

There was a moment in which they both stared down at it.

Nie Mingjue pressed his lips together to keep from laughing, and Jiang Cheng turned beet red and leapt to his feet and started stammering something about making a study guide to avoid embarrassing himself and not to pay any attention to it and anyway it was all Nie Huaisang’s fault – Nie Mingjue believed that one immediately – and anyway the only reason it’d fallen to that particular page was because he was convinced that it wasn’t even possible –

“No, that one’s possible,” Nie Mingjue said, standing up as well. “You just need support – look, see, if I lift you up against the wall like this –”

He demonstrated.

“– and you put your legs like so, it all works out just fine. Entirely plausible.”

Jiang Cheng’s mouth was slightly agape, his breath coming a bit quickly; his cheeks were still a lovely shade of pink, and Nie Mingjue could tell fairly easily that Jiang Cheng’s attempted explanation about the reason he had been lingering on that particular page was a lie.

“Oh,” he said, “and I like you, too. Just so you know.”

Jiang Cheng smiled.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #nie mingjue #jin guangyao #my fic #my fics #getting bored #mingcheng

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