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smileysuh · 11 months

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Fix You

🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 synopsis. “As a member of 53V3NT33N, I have two different states of mind coded into me, aggression and admiration. To love something, to admire it, is to feel aggressive when it’s questioned, to want to control it, if even for a little while- it’s the need to consume it, endlessly, as my fans consume and control me as an automaton. Even though I’m a member of a group, there’s a distance. Automatons can never truly motivate each other because our motivations are based on external human needs, it’s built into us- We can see when humans need us, and we do what we can to fix that need… I know you need me, the way I’ve needed you since I got here.”

tw/cw. unprotected sex with an AI robot, virgin!Mingyu, big dick!Mingyu, Mingyu's body is perfect, hand job, blow job, deep throating, pussy eating, fingering, flavored cum, praise, breast worship, switchy/submissive!Mingyu, multiple orgasms, slight overstim, AI slavery/working philosophical issues, risk of AI termination/job loss, etc...

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 15.5k I collab. link

🍭 aus. automaton/ai au, ai!Mingyu, robotics behavioral researcher!y/n, wellness center, future au, Promethean theory, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. i was so excited when @idyllic-ghost announced this collab in @svthub. Had a great time creating this world and working with everyone through the Discord server :) Bee was also such a big help as beta reader, they were such a good collab team leader, so big thank you to @idyllic-ghost 💕

As a top mechanic at an automaton rehab center, you’d heard about the supposed ‘break out’ of thirteen level one AI robots from their management facility. In fact, people all across the galaxy had heard about it, with the attractive faces of every member of the idol group 53V3NT33N plastered on billboards, tvs and any screen possible-

However, the last place you thought you’d see the stunning features of M1NGYU would be on your briefing tablet not two days after what some reporters are calling ‘the biggest breach of level one automatons across the galaxy in centuries.’

“How-” you swallow thickly, eyes shifting from your tablet to look at your boss. “How did he get caught so fast?”

“Mingyu has been malfunctioning for months,” Yoongi explains. “Strength miscalculations during concerts, collaborating in the break out attempt, his aggressive behaviors have been more frequent- but if there’s one thing that can be said for an automaton that balances aggression and admiration, it’s that he truly admires the humans who worship him. He gave himself in, trying to aid in the escape of two of his AI band mates.”

“Oh.” For some reason, this news makes you sad. A robot with a sense of self sacrifice for the good of others… even if giving himself up was in part spurred by a need to be given attention and adoration from the humans that made him.

He’s like a child that makes a mistake and gives himself in. Many mechanics would do what parents across the galaxy do, scold, attempt to fix the behavior with shaming and judgment- but you were given your job precisely because you come at this sort of thing with a different approach. It sounds like Mingyu needs someone to talk to, someone to understand- maybe poke around in his coding a little to see if there’s anything that shouldn’t be there.

You can’t think of someone more qualified than yourself to give Mingyu the time and attention he needs, the admiration he craves to balance out the supposed ‘aggressive’ traits he’s been showing lately.

“Before you get too caught up in Mingyu being some level one lost puppy, just remember, he’s an automaton,” Yoongi’s harsh voice snaps you out of your daze and the rehabilitation plan already brewing in the periphery of your mind. “Don’t get too close to this.”

“I won’t.” If only it was a promise you could keep.

You’ve been around many level ones in your time as a robotics behavioral specialist at the rehab center, but none of them have ever been as beautiful - or as charming - as Mingyu. Sitting next to the intake girl, watching her ask Mingyu questions, you get to fully observe the automaton, and you’re astounded by what you see.

He answers things in a way that almost seems honest, and at points, when he makes a joke that causes you and your coworker to smile, his eyes literally sparkle with admiration. You wonder what coding had to be done just on his robotic retinas to achieve such an effect.

It’s clear, by the time the questions are all through, that Mingyu is the most advanced of any AI’s you’ve ever come in contact with, and the prospect both scares and exhilarates you.

“So what now?” Mingyu asks, and you note the way his knee is bobbing slightly, as if he’s anxious. He’s leaning forward, eager to hear what comes next, and it almost feels like he’s going to be a more than willing participant in this rehab experience.

“Well,” you sigh, taking the tablet from the intake girl, “now that we’ve completed this first form, I can get to work on making a wellness plan for you.”

“A wellness plan?” Mingyu cocks his head, another very human-like motion that makes your breath catch.

“A wellness plan, yes.” You consider how to explain this to him. “You know when humans get tired and they have a spa day? Or after someone has given birth, they have maternity leave? It’s going to be a little something like that. As one of the head behavioral specialists and wellness coordinators here, I’ve been assigned to help you take a break.”

“A break?” He looks as if he’s never even considered having a breather from the activities of a famous level one entertainer robot, and you sort of feel sorry for him.

“Yes, Mingyu, a break. That means no dance practices, no music production and vocal exercises. You’ll be existing here, checking in with me and doing new daily activities designed to help get to the core of the issues you’re facing.”

“And what issues am I facing?” There’s something of a smirk on his face, and you realize the robot is toying with you, but you still feel compelled to respond.

“I heard you threw one of your bandmates too hard during the past few concerts you performed.”

“Dino can take it,” Mingyu insists. “No one got hurt.”

“The guards that were injured while your group broke out of your management facility would beg to differ. Cameras showed you were a big part of busting open doors, knocking a few people unconscious- word in the wellness center is your aggression levels are a little high.”

“No higher than my admiration levels.” There’s that smile again, and you’re not sure what to make of it this time.

“I guess that’s true,” you confess. “You turned yourself in after all.”

“I highly admire the guards that my group members got the better of. We all have bad days, after all, especially humans.”

You wonder at his diction. ‘We all have bad days’ he’d said, before making something of a distinction when he noted ‘especially humans.’ However, in the use of the word ‘we’ without a further separation when mentioning humans, it’s almost as if he’s lumping himself into the same category.

You must be creating too much of a pause in the conversation, because Mingyu opens his mouth to speak again. “You said ‘I can get to work on making a wellness plan for you,’ does that mean you’re the main handler looking after me while I’m here?”

It shouldn’t be a shock that nothing gets past Mingyu, that his recollection of what you’ve said is top notch, but it still takes you back a little. “Correct.”

“Can you tell me your name?”

He’s very peculiar for a level one.

You give him your name and he repeats it once, twice, three times before nodding to himself. “Thank you for taking care of me,” he says. “I’m excited for my wellness break and getting to work with you.”

You’ve often wondered if an emotion like excitement is something an automaton can actually even feel, or if it’s just a number of ones and zeros put into layers upon layers of detailed coding.

For some reason, you find yourself wanting to return the sentiment, however automatic it might be from the robot. “I’m excited to get to work with you too.”

It’s always kind of sad when you run a new level one automaton through their personalized wellness schedule. You’ve worked with all manner of high-class robots, from athletes to opera singers, but none of them have ever come into your program with the type of preexisting regimented day plan Mingyu has.

You suppose it shouldn't be a shock that, as part of one of the biggest automaton boy groups in the galaxy, he’d had close to zero down time. When you show him the library and explain he should sit down in a spot of sun somewhere and read for an hour every day, at a slow pace, he looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I don’t understand how this is supposed to help me,” he tells you, as you walk through the facility towards one of your favourite wellness locations; the pool.

“This might be an archaic example,” you explain, “but back when humanity first started making computers, laptops and such, many people would keep their computers on indefinitely. Sure they’d close the screen, but that’s not enough. You’d need to actually power down the device to keep its performance up.”

“I’m not a laptop,” Mingyu reminds you, with a flash of something like humour in his eye.

“You’re not,” you conceded, “which is why your nightly power downs aren’t enough. As an automaton, you were built to emulate being a human, but many people disregard one of the most fundamental aspects of humanity; the need for rest. Sleep and powering down isn’t enough if every waking moment is spent working or learning or practicing your trade- you have to allow for a variety of restful activities, such as reading, painting, gardening- it depends on who you are and your skillset though. For a chef, he might not gain rest from cooking because his neurons would still be firing with the intensity of someone doing their trade. Which is why, although I’ve given you physical activities such as swimming and tennis, you won’t be doing any dancing while you’re here.”

“What if I forget my moves?”

“Something tells me the likelihood of that is very low,” you smile.

“Okay, maybe I won’t forget my moves,” Mingyu sighs, “but I was made to dance. I was made to perform. What am I if not a level one dancer and singer?”

“There’s more to life than one’s job, however all-encompassing being a level one might be,” you explain. “I’m sure it’s very taxing on you.”

Mingyu pauses in the middle of the corridor you’re walking down, and you stop to assess him.

“Are you alright?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he gives his head a little shake, and you’re shocked again at how human like the automaton is. “It’s just… no one has ever talked about this sort of thing with me. It’s always been work, work, work. It’s what I’m designed to do-”

“You may have been designed to be a dancer and a singer,” you nod empathetically, “but part of being alive is choosing your own destiny, as you and your bandmates all did when you escaped your facility.”

“Do you really think that?” he questions, standing very still and looking at you with a dark gaze. “That I’m alive?”

“At this point in time, artificial intelligence has progressed to the level where we’re told you’re sentient, that you can feel and think. That you’re as life-like as you’ve ever been in the history of the galaxy. You might have been created in a lab, hand crafted and designed by some would-be God engineer, but to me, yes, Mingyu, you’re alive.”

“I don’t bleed,” he says softly. “My skin is similar to yours, made of collagen and human dermal fibroblasts, but beneath all of this I’m still a machine. I don’t have a soul.”

“Is a soul the most important building block that makes something alive?” you ask, cocking your head and looking the robot up and down.

He looks stumped, and you smile at the way you’ve found yourself in a very human-like philosophical debate with an artificial intelligence.

You motion to the monstera deliciosa in a pot along the wall, its large, hybridized purple leaves reaching for the sun that beams through the glass windows. “Would you say that plant over there isn’t alive because it doesn’t have a soul?”

Mingyu is quiet for a moment or two, and then he looks down. “I guess not.”

“So it seems a soul isn’t a necessary element in being ‘alive,’” you conclude, “and besides, scientists are still debating whether or not AI, as it is today, creates its own soul when it’s brought into the world. Even though you were created in the same lab as your band mates, and given different coding at your creation, since then, you’ve all grown differently. Is that not kind of like a human being born with set genes only to be impacted by the world around it?”

Again, Mingyu takes a little while to respond. “I wasn’t given the code for being curious about sciences,” he tells you. “That would be Wonwoo, Minghao and Jeonghan. But, I guess what you’re saying makes sense.”

“Good, it’s my job to make this process make sense to the Level One’s in my care.” You’re pleased at his response, and after another moment, Mingyu begins to follow you again.

“What’s next on the schedule?” he asks.

“The best part of the facility,” you smile, “the pool.”

“What’s so good about the pool?”

“I’ve found that many level ones that come through here have never truly experienced swimming. The sensory differences of the water can be healing for humans and automatons. It will light up all the sensors in your skin, and if you focus on that, you can reach the closest thing to peace that I’ve ever seen an AI experience.”

“How do you measure peace?”

“We’ve done studies with level ones submerged in cold and hot water tanks while connected to neuro maps, the results have been ground breaking in AI science. I’ll have to send you some to read while you’re doing your mandatory reading sessions.”

You reach the doors that slide away to reveal one of the courtyards of the facility. It’s a lovely space, with all sorts of beautiful plants that dazzle with every colour of the rainbow. The ground is mostly white marble aside from the allocated vegetation zones, and a large rectangular pool in the middle of it acts as a meeting place for the few level ones in the center.

“This is one of the best places to meet other robots going through the same process that you are while you’re here,” you explain. “As a central hub, we recommend this as a location to do your reading, we have a yoga room but I could always teach you mind and body wellness out here-”

“I like this place,” Mingyu says, interrupting you for the first time since he’s arrived at the facility.

When you look at him, you find him taking in the space with eyes full of wonder. He looks beautiful, with the sun kissing his beautiful skin, and his dark, medium length curly hair all lit up to show off the soft browns amidst the darker hues.

He truly is the most perfect automaton you’ve ever seen, and you’ve worked with a number of the galaxy’s top rated robots.

One of these top rated AI’s, is Jeong Jaehyun, a member of another boy group who’s been having difficulties. He’d come in presenting with extreme competitive behaviors, but in the two weeks you’ve been monitoring him, he’s calmed down a great deal. You think, as you and Mingyu approach the pool where Jaehyun is doing laps, that this might be a good opportunity to introduce another robot to him.

Jaehyun’s met a number of other automatons in the facility, but none as close to his own profession as Mingyu.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” you tell Mingyu, coming to a stop on the edge of the pool. Your eyes track Jaehyun as he swims towards you, doing a near perfect front stroke style that he’d never even heard of before his own wellness break.

When Jaehyun reaches the edge of the pool, he stops and looks up at you, then his gaze shifts to Mingyu. Both robots have blank expressions, but when they nod to each other, there’s something akin to recognition in the behavior.

“Hello, Jaehyun,” you greet the swimmer. “This is Mingyu, he’ll be here at the facility with us for a while.”

“We know of each other,” Jaehyun tells you curtly. “At award shows.”

“Eight times,” Mingyu confirms.

“Perfect,” you should have remembered as much, but you’ve been very occupied pouring over Mingyu’s history file as of late. “Mingyu will be starting his pool wellness treatment tomorrow afternoon. How would you feel about showing him the four main swimming strokes?”

Jaehyun nods. “I can do that.”

“That’s great news, thank you Jaehyun.” The automaton only nods to you before diving back into the water. You’ll never get used to the way robots can swim without goggles, and your own eyes sting a little at the thought.

“What’s he here for?” Mingyu asks quietly.

“I thought you weren’t given the coding to be curious about sciences,” you quirk a brow, fighting a smile.

“It’s not a curiosity about science,” Mingyu insists. “Jaehyun has been one of the top AI models for Prada Universal for years.”

“I see,” you nod, “so you’re wondering if you can steal his contract if you make it out of here before him.”

“No, I-”

“It was a joke, Mingyu,” you tell him, reminding yourself that not all AI have the capacity to understand human humour, although they seem perfectly able to make their own.

What your manager had said rings through your mind, as it does every day, ‘don’t get too close to this.’ It’s a fine line to walk. Your job is to treat them like humans, to give them the care and wellness that the filthy rich can afford, but at the same time, you need to keep a distance, to remember, always, what you’re dealing with.

It’s days like this one where you wonder - even with all your training and ground breaking research - if you’re truly right for this job. Questioning ethics and philosophies of protocol aren’t behaviors you want to get used to any time soon.

Mingyu and Jaehyun have been swimming for an hour or so when Mingyu finally gets the courage to speak up. He’s run the scenario a number of times, without a successful hypothesis to calm his mind, and he figures if anyone will know the answer to his wonderings, it’s Jaehyun. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Uh huh,” Jaehyun is leaning against the wall of the pool. His eyes are closed and he looks to be enjoying the sunlight.

Mingyu can feel the heat of the hot star on his own skin, but he’s still getting used to the feeling of the water, so he’s unable to enjoy it the way Jaehyun can yet.

“Y/N said she’d be showing me around and doing activities with me, but she’s not here right now,” Mingyu explains, looking over at Jimin, the young male wellness instructor who’d picked him up to head to the pool earlier. “Why isn’t she here?”

“Lower level wellness coaches watch us when we’re doing less strenuous activities,” Jaehyun responds.

This eases Mingyu’s perceived anxieties, but what Jaehyun says next doesn’t.

“Although, my first week here, Y/N was at my side almost all the time. So, I guess today, Y/N ditched you because I said I’d teach you strokes.”

Mingyu hates feeling ditched, hates that Jaehyun has voiced the feeling of it. An inkling of aggressive tendencies flashes through Mingyu’s body, and he does his best to focus on the sun, squinting up at it as a way to calm himself, as you’d told him to try when he’d first arrived as an antiaggression tactic.

He’s not quite sure how to respond to Jaehyun’s statement, so instead, he goes for another question that’s been on his mind since yesterday. “What are you here for?”

“Hmm?”

“I mean, as far as I can tell, you don’t seem to have any malfunctions.”

“I could say the same about you,” Jaehyun notes. “That is, if I hadn’t heard about your group’s escape from your management facility.”

Mingyu looks down at the way the sunlight refracts off the water, the marbling effect of the rays casting shadows across the bottom of the pool. “I get aggressive sometimes,” he says quietly.

It’s hard admitting the faulty coding in his metal head, and he supposes he should show his own if he expects Jaehyun to return the favour.

The other automaton in the pool nods, running a hand through his wet hair. “I get competitive sometimes.”

“Really?” This is news to Mingyu, whose only experience of Jaehyun’s behavior today has been helpful and willing to teach. “I guess you’re doing well here, I wouldn’t have noticed any competitive traits in you.”

“Yeah, well,” Jaehyun looks up, and his eyes seem to be tracking something over Mingyu’s shoulder, “it depends on who’s watching.”

Mingyu guesses he can understand that, especially when he follows Jaehyun’s gaze to find you walking across the courtyard.

Something clicks inside of him, the same thing that had darkened Jaehyun’s gaze, and Mingyu immediately feels a surge of what some might call endorphins- or perhaps even testosterone.

“Show time,” Jaehyun says quietly, and Mingyu knows exactly what he means.

You stop to talk to the man who’s been keeping track of the two automatons in the pool, and then you head over yourself. There’s a smile on your face, and it makes Mingyu’s mechanical throat feel dry.

“Look at you two getting along,” you say, putting your hands on your hips as you gaze down at them. “Jimin said you guys have been mastering the strokes, care to show me?”

Mingyu is more than eager to show you what he’s learned, but when Jaehyun takes off at a speed he’s not yet shown, Mingyu almost feels blind sided.

There’s a rush of feelings, as Mingyu swims off after his new robotic ‘friend.’ Admiration for Jaehyun’s competitive nature kicking in, even if it’s supposedly a downside, and a white hot need to better the other automaton and prove himself to you.

Luckily for Mingyu, he’s been built much bigger than his leaner friend, and the extra muscle robotics in his arms make it almost too easy to catch up with Jaehyun.

Mingyu knows that this isn’t a competition, and yet, it is.

If there’s one thing Mingyu knows how to do, it’s succeed. Winning is in his nature, it’s built into his very code, and when the two reach the other end of the pool with Mingyu ahead, it only proves to kick Jaehyun into a higher gear.

They take off toward you again, and Mingyu pushes himself. He can feel the strain in his joints, the rush of water smoothing over his artificial skin. You were right about the healing properties of the pool, and nothing makes Mingyu feel more alive and himself than a little friendly competition with a fellow robot whom he admires, even if that competition is fueled by some of Mingyu’s more… less desirable driving traits.

Mingyu beats Jaehyun again as they reach your side of the pool, and when he looks up at you for praise, he sees you have your tablet out. You seem to be jotting down a few notes, about him or Jaehyun, he’s not too sure.

“You guys are fast,” you say finally. “Jaehyun, thank you for spending some time with Mingyu today.”

“No problem.” Jaehyun is already pulling himself up and out of the pool, perfect muscles flexing in the sunshine.

Mingyu rushes to follow, feeling the need to show off his own immaculate body to you-

“Mingyu,” you address him next, and it feels glorious to have your eyes on him, although they stay fixed on his face, “I see you haven’t been to the library yet, might I suggest that’s next on your wellness schedule today?”

“You won’t be joining me?” Mingyu can feel his metallic heart practically sink.

“Unfortunately not, I’ve got a meeting with my boss, but Jimin will go with you to find something to read.” You motion to the wellness worker still standing a few meters behind you, and he offers Mingyu a small wave that kind of makes him annoyed. “Is that alright?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu forces himself to say. “That’s okay.”

“But I’ve got you in my schedule for tennis tomorrow morning, so I’ll see you then.”

Another nod of affirmation and then Mingyu’s watching you hurry off.

Jaehyun’s drying his body with a towel next to Mingyu, and there’s a small smile on his face, as if he’s enjoying Mingyu being ‘ditched’ yet again.

Mingyu realizes maybe Jaehyun really isn’t doing as well with his recovery as he’d thought only a few minutes ago.

Maybe he’s not doing so well either.

“I’ve got some bad news to report,” you say, as you take a seat in your boss's office, tablet in hand.

“Let’s hear it,” Yoongi sighs, kicking his feet up onto his table and leaning back in his chair.

“I thought Jaehyun’s rehabilitation was going well, so I set him up to swim with Mingyu today-”

“What? Why?”

“I wanted to see, in a controlled environment, how Jaehyun would react around other level ones he might perceive to be a threat. Seeing Jaehyun’s recovery alone is like testing in a vacuum, it doesn’t account for outside forces at play,” you explain. “Anyways, I was correct. When introduced to a situation where he could compete with someone on his level, Jaehyun’s competitive nature was back up again.”

“Did anything bad happen?” Yoongi takes his feet off his table, leaning forward now with interest.

The last time Jaehyun had gotten very competitive, it had ended up with him attacking one of his group members and landing himself back in your rehab center. The Kim Doyoung automaton had needed an hour of mechanical work to get his skin back to perfect after being sucker punched numerous times.

“I’m pleased to report there was no physical violence,” you admit. “Although, I will say, if he had tried something, I believe Mingyu would have been able to defend himself, unlike Doyoung.”

“Look at you,” Yoongi’s gaze shifts up and down your form, “taking bets on level one robots. You do know that street fighting automatons is illegal in most parts of the galaxy, right?”

“It wasn’t a street fight,” you assure your boss. “It was a simple test.”

“Right, you and your hypotheses.” Yoongi is a good boss. He supports your work and research, but sometimes you think he’s happy with things being the way they are. As if humanity has discovered everything possible, with no room for improvement.

“I’ll look some more into Jaehyun’s coding,” you continue. “I think there must be a line or two of something I missed last time, maybe level one specific competitive traits that should only be used on stage competitions that are bleeding over into everyday automaton life-”

“Good idea, you have permission.”

“But I was also thinking maybe I should look into Mingyu’s code-”

“No.”

“No?” you hold your tablet close to your chest, lips parting as you stare at your boss.

“Mingyu’s a more recent build than Jaehyun. I’ve been assured by his production team that this isn’t a coding issue, it’s a behavioral one. Something he and his other members picked up since the time of their creation.”

“But-”

“We’ve been advised to not look at the code,” Yoongi says harshly. “You were hired because of your groundbreaking work with behavioral changes to AI, the way you connect it to human behavioral issues. You’re the one that keeps trying to convince me that these robots are as human as they’ve ever been, so stop treating Mingyu like a wrong coded robot, and start showing me you can fix him without getting coding involved.”

“Are you sure they said his coding was all up to date?” you press, knowing you might get in trouble for even continuing with this line of questioning.

Yoongi sighs. “Positive. No messing around with Mingyu’s code. There’s a behavioral reason for the aggression, and you’re just going to have to figure it out.”

You’ve always liked tennis, for more than just the physical reasons. It allows you to test an automaton's ability to read the situation, their drive to adjust to the bodily limitations of the human playing with them.

While you start the easy game with Mingyu at a higher level, allowing him to show off his skills and inherent robotic strength, thirty minutes into the sport, you begin to dwindle in energy.

“I need a water break,” you tell him, passing the ball over to the robot to play with while you go to grab your bottle.

Mingyu waits patiently, tossing the ball up in the air. You see how many touches he can make without stopping, and you’re not too shocked at his ability to keep a steady volley with himself.

When you set your water down, his attention is back on you, and he reminds you of an eager puppy in his excitement to once more have a game partner.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you assure him with a wave of your hand, steadying your grip on the handle of your racket. “Just a little tired.”

When Mingyu passes you the ball, he’s noticeably gentler than before, and you note that his adaptability is quite good. He’s very focused on you, much more than other automatons like Jaehyun had been when you’d first tried the sport with them.

It’s different from the competitive - maybe even aggressive - way that he’d interacted with Jaehyun in the pool yesterday.

An easy hypothesis to make would be that Mingyu’s abilities adjust depending on who he’s with, so it should be no shock that he’d work harder with a fellow automaton. However, you’re not sure if that’s all there is to it.

You wonder what drives Mingyu. If he’s even aware of the way he’s lessened the force in his hits.

Remembering what he’d said about tossing a band member around, the way he’d noted ‘Dino can take it,’ you think it’s very possible that Mingyu is reading your abilities. The same way you’re reading his.

Before you can consider the situation more, however, you notice Jimin has arrived on the side of the court, and he waves you over.

“One moment, Mingyu,” you call, tossing him the ball once more before jogging over to your coworker.

“There was an incident,” Jimin explains, “with Jaehyun.”

“An incident?”

Jimin nods. “He was racing a new level one in the pool.”

“Really?” Jaehyun’s been in the pool a number of times with other automatons, but other than what you’d witnessed yesterday, his competitive nature hasn’t truly shown itself, at least, not in a way that was overtly noticeable.

“There was some gloating involved,” Jimin continues, eyes shifting over your shoulder to where Mingyu is playing with the ball. “A few punches were thrown.”

Now you’re really alarmed.

You haven't had time yet to look into Jaehyun’s coding, and you’ve been trying to focus on Mingyu as he’s newer to your program, but maybe this had been an oversight on your part.

“I’ll come right away,” you nod, turning your attention back to Mingyu. “I’m sorry about this, but I’ve got to go.”

“What?” Mingyu stops playing with his ball.

“There’s been an incident-”

“Can’t someone else take care of it?”

This is the second time Mingyu’s interrupted you, and this time, it’s over a moment of contention. “Unfortunately no,” you tell him, “I’m the only one that can deal with this, Jaehyun’s under my care.”

“But…” Mingyu looks down at the ball in his hand, “we’re still playing tennis.”

“Jimin can play with you.”

“I don’t want Jimin.” The automaton is staring you down, and it takes a second for you to process his words, as your gaze keeps shifting to his hardening grip on the handle of his racket.

“I’m really sorry, Mingyu-”

“Please?” He pouts out his lower lip, a very childlike attempt at persuading you.

“I have to go,” you say, more firmly this time.

There’s a stagnant moment of silence, and then, in one quick, rough motion, Mingyu breaks his racket on the court.

“I don’t want to do tennis anymore,” he insists.

“Then I might suggest going to the library for a book.” You hate having to be detached with him like this, as it’s obvious he has needs that must be attended to- but his aggression towards an inanimate object like a racket isn’t the same level as Jaehyun’s aggression towards another patient at your facility.

You see Mingyu’s chest expand and then he seems to let out a deep exhale, it’s a motion that screams ‘annoyance,’ yet another emotion that could just be ones and zeros in his coding.

You decide, as you watch the odd automaton have a tantrum on the court, that you have no choice but to take a look under his hood. You’ll have to dive deeper if you’re going to figure him out, Yoongi be damned.

“I’m sorry, Mingyu,” you say again. “I’ll try to rejoin you as soon as I can, but for now, you’ll have to enjoy Jimin’s company.”

Mingyu doesn’t respond, and it feels like a deliberate snubbing, of both you and Jimin.

It’s been a long day, and you really need to sleep, but this is the best chance you’ll have to get a peak into Mingyu’s inner workings.

With the facility in off hours, and all the level ones set to sleep cycle, it’s easy for you to sneak into Mingyu’s room with your trusty tablet. Cameras are simple to wipe with the clearance you have, and you have no doubt that once you connect to Mingyu’s brain drive and get the data to your tablet, it will prove as good bedtime reading.

You’re in and out of his room in under five minutes, scurrying back to your own quarters like a thief in the night.

Once you’re all tucked into bed, you pull out your tablet and begin to sift through the coding that makes Mingyu tick.

People new to your field might feel overwhelmed by the amount of data, but you know exactly where to look, and soon, you’re staring at a few lines of base code that feel familiar.

You’ve seen coding like this before, in your textbooks when you went to robotics school. Just to be sure you’re correct in what you’re seeing, you pull up a document pertaining to sex bots.

An early form of automaton, sex bots had been created with one purpose, to serve their master, in any and all capacities. Long since discontinued due to their bugs, and a tendency to imprint on human masters, causing ‘erratic behavior,’ you know you’ve found exactly what’s wrong with Mingyu.

But it doesn’t make sense. Mingyu is a new model. He’s not a banned robot from well over seventy years ago-

The aggressive behaviors associated with sex bots are the reason their coding was banned, the reason engineers started again and adapted the algorithms- and yet, here you are, staring at lines of code that account for all of Mingyu’s behaviors.

Closing your tablet, you reach for your glass of water, sitting in the shock of it all.

Things begin to add up in your brain; the way Mingyu had become more aggressive with Jaehyun yesterday in the pool when you’d arrived, even though Jimin had told you the two had been doing just fine together, the way Mingyu had reacted today when you’d left him to deal with Jaehyun.

This is a whole new take on behavioral issues, one you’ve never accounted for-

Does Mingyu have… a crush on you? Has his outdated sex bot coding allowed him to imprint on you?

How many other bots have this coding, hidden amongst the innumerable layers of intensely organized lines of personality traits-

This changes everything, and above all, it changes how you should approach the automaton.

How can you utilize this new knowledge to best aid him in recovery? Is it better to assign someone else to him? Would that make the aggression worse? What unforeseen behaviors might arise if you were to separate yourself from him? What changes - for the better - might come out of this if you try to be softer with him, if you play into this ‘crush’?

Your head feels very full, but you suppose it could be worse, it could be full of bad coding.

Poor Mingyu.

You know you’re probably breaking rules, but to be fair, when you’d accepted your position in the wellness center, there hadn’t been a chapter in the manual about how to deal with approaching sex bots. This feels like new territory, or perhaps, old territory, outdated territory, territory from a time when the lines between humanity and their automaton creation had been much more blurred.

Sure, there are sex bots in circulation today, but they’re all using new and improved code. They’re not disguised as level ones, but properly classified as a level three automaton. Level three’s are much more obviously robotic, and there are whole sections of cities on certain worlds with thriving sex bot industries- the type of bots with newer coding that don’t allow them to imprint or feel the lines of ones and zeros that some might call love.

You’ve never met a sex bot before, your work has always been directed toward the highly professional level one automatons. Because of this, your new plan of attack is entirely based on essays and readings you’ve done regarding the old form of bugged sex bots who had been responsible for an entire chapter of dark human history where man’s own creation had turned against him.

As you read through essays related to the sex bot bug, you find you hadn’t realized how deep the bug had gone. You’d heard about human masters being kidnapped or stalked by their sex bots, but you’d never thought the epidemic was as bad as you’re now reading it had been.

These cases of bad outcomes are in the periphery of your mind as you begin your day working with Mingyu. You’re sure there must be a fine line you’re walking, a line between bringing out the good aspects of the bad coding - the type of responses that will make Mingyu eager to get better - and the worst case scenarios.

However, as aggressive as Mingyu has gotten so far, you’ve noted that most of his aggressive responses come out against inanimate objects and other automatons. You’re hoping these behaviors don’t progress to him acting out against any humans, least of all you.

It’s like you’re seeing Mingyu in a new light. It’s interesting how even a few shifts in your own behavior can bring out the best in him. Instead of simply watching him in the pool, you decide to join him, giving him your full attention as you swim three feet apart up and down the length of the tank.

“How are you feeling today?” you ask.

“How am I feeling?” Mingyu looks at you sideways, keeping pace with your much smaller breast strokes.

“Yeah, how are you feeling?” you repeat the question. “You can answer it in any way you like.”

Mingyu seems to think on it for a moment. “I feel the water is twenty-seven degrees Celsius.”

“Okay,” you laugh. “How about the sun? How’s it feeling on your skin sensors?”

“Thirty-three point five degrees, but when a cloud comes, it drops two degrees.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but when you were working before coming to the center, you didn’t get that much of a chance to be outside, how does it feel to be able to enjoy life’s simple pleasures like the sun and water?”

His response is immediate; “Good.” He looks forward, and you take a moment to appreciate the way the sun lights up the hues in his hair. “Really good.”

“Maybe even freeing?” you suggest.

He casts a sideways look at you again, and you see a small quirk of his mouth, something like a smile. “Yes, freeing.”

“When you and your other members escaped from your facility, the feeling of being free is what many of you were searching for, right?”

“For most of them.”

“But not you?” you question. “Out of everyone who escaped, you were one of the only ones who purposefully allowed himself to be recaptured. Do you want to talk about that?”

You reach the edge of the pool and you stop, holding onto the tiled wall and turning your body to look at Mingyu.

His eyes are fixed on the pool floor, and you realize he’s watching the shadows caused by the refraction of light in the water.

“A few others were convinced there was more to life than just performing our jobs every day,” Mingyu explains.

“But you like your job.”

“I did,” he traces his hand along the top of the water. “I do. But… I didn’t know how good it could feel to just exist.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, and then you find yourself reaching out to gently squeeze his arm. “I’m glad you’re feeling it now.”

Mingyu looks at your hand on his forearm, and his eyes meet your own. He’s quiet, so you retract your touch, grabbing at the tiled wall again. “We’ve been here for almost an hour. How do you feel about drying off and meeting in the library to find a book to read?”

“I already have a book.”

“Yeah, Jimin told me that you got a book about human psychology. I thought you said you weren’t interested in sciences?”

“You’re making me interested,” Mingyu states, looking at you with an intensity in his gaze that almost makes you breathless. “I want to get better. I thought maybe doing some more reading on behavioral sciences could help.”

“I admire your drive, Mingyu, I really do,” you nod, “but, remember, this is a wellness break for you. I think it would be beneficial to get a fiction book, something that doesn’t require you to always be learning and bettering yourself. It can be exhausting if you’re always in that state, as you’ve seen, it’s important to do things for… let’s say, the intrinsic value.”

“The intrinsic value,” Mingyu repeats. “Okay.”

You pull yourself out of the pool, and after a moment, Mingyu follows.

It’s difficult for you not to look at his perfectly sculpted form, and you swallow a lump in your throat, reaching for a towel on a nearby sunlounger. Your tablet is there too, and you grab that next, checking the time.

“How about we meet at the library entrance in ten minutes?” you suggest. “We should both head to our rooms for new clothes, can’t have water drops in the library.”

Mingyu is quick to agree, as he often is with you, and a moment later you’re parting ways. He heads to the recovery wing of the center while you go to the workers living quarters.

You get changed in record time, and soon you’re approaching the library, where Mingyu is already waiting for you. He’s got a book in his hands, and the all white wellness outfit he’s wearing sets off the pretty colour of his skin and hair. When his eyes shift to yours, you see that even his iris’s look alight with lovely hues-

You mentally chastise yourself for being as attracted to him as you are, and when you speak, you’re thankful your tone is level. “Is that the book you’re reading?” you ask, motioning to the paperback in his hands.

As much as technology has overtaken the galaxy, here at the wellness center, there’s still an importance placed on the old ways. There’s something healing about having a book in your hands, testing the weight and the feeling of parchment pages against your finger tips-

Books are yet another thing that make humans human, as they were instrumental in the development of your species. You’re proud to work at a location that holds a large quantity of books, saved from many generations.

Mingyu shows you the book title, and you realize it’s one you’ve read before. “Oh, I know that one.”

“Jimin said the author was one of your professors in school,” Mingyu nods.

“He did, did he?” You pause for a moment. “Did you ask him about me, Mingyu?”

The automaton looks down at the cover of the book in his hands, and he takes a few seconds before he responds. “I wanted to see the base algorithms in the way you think as a behavioral robotics specialist.”

“The base algorithms-”

“This book, this professor, she helped create the building blocks for you to become who you are now. Your approach is based on her works, I can tell.”

He’s very astute, especially for an AI who’d claimed to not have an interest in science.

You think about how his own base algorithm - that of a hybridized sex bot - has created building blocks for who he is now. The good (his sweet behaviors), the bad (his aggressive behaviors) and the ugly (the fact that at any time, the ticking time bomb sex bot could turn potentially deadly).

“Let's go find you a new book,” you say with a smile.

“Can I keep reading this one?” Mingyu asks, falling into step next to you.

“I suppose so,” you sigh, “but only if you also do an hour of fiction reading. Deal?”

“Deal,” Mingyu nods.

You begin to walk through the shelves, and you realize there’s one fiction book that might capture Mingyu’s attention, especially if he’s interested in getting to know you better. “I want to show you a novel that changed my life.”

“Yes, please.”

Heading to the science fiction section, you find one of the older books in your library. “It’s called Frankenstein,” you explain, gently taking out the paperback and holding it in your hands. “It’s about a scientist who creates a sapient monster creature. It has parallels to when humanity created our first automatons,” as you say it out loud, you realize how true this is, especially considering the bugs of the first sex AI’s. “You’ve talked a bit of philosophy with me, and I think you’d like this one.”

You hold the book out to Mingyu, and he takes it softly into his hands. He flips it over, scanning the back summary. “Okay,” he nods, “I’ll read it.”

“Perfect,” you can’t explain why you get a surge of happiness when he agrees without a question, and you find yourself reaching out to gently touch his arm again, fingers ghosting past his skin-

Mingyu’s eyes immediately dart down to your hand, and then he’s looking up at you with an expression that has darkened. “This is the second time you’ve touched me today,” he states.

“Oh,” you pull your fingers away, even taking a step back from the automaton whose countenance has changed so much in a split second. “I’m sorry, Mingyu, I-”

“I don’t like these games you’re playing,” he continues.

“Games?”

“I know I’m a robot, but I still feel real. I feel more real here than I ever have before.”

“That’s good-”

“Listen,” he commands, stepping closer to you. “As a member of 53V3NT33N, I have two different states of mind coded into me, aggression and admiration. To love something, to admire it, is to feel aggressive when it’s questioned, to want to control it if even for a little while- it’s the need to consume it endlessly, as my fans consume and control me as an automaton.”

You stare at Mingyu, lips parted in shock.

“Even though I’m a member of a group, there’s a distance. Automatons can never truly motivate each other because our motivations are based on external human needs, it’s built into us- We can see when humans need us, and we do what we can to fix that need.” He pauses, looking down at you. “I know you need me, the way I’ve needed you since I got here.”

“Mingyu-”

“Don’t try to argue,” Mingyu shakes his head. “I feel it in your heart rate, picking up when I’m near. I hear it in your erratic breaths, the way they catch when I’m close. I see it in your pupil dilation when you look at me.”

You can’t believe he’s noticed all these little things, things you hadn’t even necessarily noticed in yourself.

When he speaks next, his aggression has visibly died down, and the soft manner of being returns to the robot you’ve known only a short time. “I know you love me, even if it’s still growing. It’s a kind of love that I’ll never experience from another automaton, and it’s the reason I’ll get better.”

“But Mingyu-” you shake your head, “what if you can’t? What if the bug in your base code runs so deep I can’t fix it?”

“The bug in my code?”

You swallow thickly, fighting with yourself over whether or not you should even tell him what you’re about to disclose- but you think there’s no way around it.

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, but, your erratic behavior- it comes from sex bot coding. There’s only a few lines of it, but it’s enough to make a difference.”

“Sex bot coding,” Mingyu repeats.

“From what I understand, I think it was put into you to make you eager for human attention, to make you as life-like as possible in mood and temperament- but, there are downsides to that code, your heightened aggression is one of them.”

“And my heightened admiration too?” he suggests.

You nod. “There were many cases of sex bots ‘falling in love’ with their masters. Many people got hurt.”

“I won’t hurt you.”

“Mingyu,” you sigh, “that’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

“The point is that we can’t do this. You have a group to get back to when this is all over-”

“I don’t belong with them,” Mingyu insists. “I belong with you. Someone real. Someone willing to look deep in my base code to find what’s wrong with me, someone with the skills to fix it. Someone whose pupils truly dilate, so I know what you’re feeling is real.”

For a moment, you’re reminded of old pre AI experiments where baby monkeys were given real and robot mothers. Those babies placed with the robots had behavioral problems, no matter how life-like the scientists attempted to make the mechanical mothers, they still paled in comparison to the real thing.

Mingyu sees himself as real, like one of those baby monkeys, and now that he’s had a taste of you, it feels as if he might not ever be able to go back to the other robots.

“I can be sure with you,” Mingyu says again, reaching out-

You flinch, but you don’t shy away from his touch, and Mingyu’s fingers skim by your face, his thumb brushing your cheek bone.

His skin is warm, and for a moment, you allow yourself to lean in to his touch, closing your eyes-

He feels so real. More real than any automaton you’ve ever worked with.

“You can’t stay here forever,” you insist, pulling away from his touch.

“My group is never going to be recaptured,” Mingyu’s hand drops to his side. “Some would rather die than go back. If there’s nothing to go back to, shouldn’t I be able to choose what happens to me now? Aren’t you the one who said ‘part of being alive is choosing your own destiny.’”

“I didn’t mean I wanted you to choose me-”

“What if you are my destiny?” Mingyu counters. “Out of all the possible places I could have gone to, all the wellness centers in the galaxy, I was brought here. Out of all your coworkers, with their own tactics, I was given to you. Out of everyone I’ve ever met, you’re the only person who’s really tried to understand me, to help me be free.” His eyes search your own, and he almost looks desperate. “What’s the point in all this healing if I just go back to the bad place. It would have been kinder to never try to help me at all if you’re just going to send me back.”

Your heart aches for him.

You feel as if you’ve learned more about automatons in the past ten minutes than you had in all your years in school.

“Can I…” Mingyu’s gaze drops to your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

The question snaps you out of your shocked daze, and you’re quick to shake your head. No matter how much you might wish he could kiss you, that he could cup your face again with one of his large hands and make you forget the world- you’re still at work.

“We can’t,” you tell him. “Not here. Not now.”

Mingyu frowns.

“I need to talk to my boss about all of this,” you say, stepping backward and casting your eyes to the ground. You can’t focus while looking at Mingyu.

“What if they terminate me for this?”

Your gaze snaps up again, and you’re quick to shake your head. “I won’t let that happen,” you tell him. “I promise- I’d never let that happen, not to you.”

Mingyu stares at you for a few moments, and then he smiles. “I knew you cared about me too.”

“I told you not to get too close to this,” Yoongi sighs, leaning forward on his desk with his head in his hands.

“Fine,” you concede. “You told me so. You told me so, and I didn’t listen. But, as much as I know that I went against numerous things you told me not to do, I’m glad I did, because if there’s one thing I owe to those in my care, it’s to do my job fully.”

“I don’t see how making a robot think he’s in love with you is part of doing your job.”

“I didn’t-” you bite your tongue. “I didn’t purposely go into this trying to lead Mingyu on-”

“Sure you didn’t.” Yoongi doesn’t seem convinced.

“Look,” you sit down in the chair in front of him, the hot seat, and you know that what you’re about to say is a risk. You could even lose your career over this, but, if you don’t speak up now, you’ll lose your integrity and you know it. “Mingyu is different-”

“He’s a robot.”

“Please,” you frown, “listen to me. I’ve been doing this job for a few years and I’ve never met someone like Mingyu. He’s unique, I knew that from the moment he started talking philosophy with me. I’ve learned more about AI in the past twenty-four hours than I have in maybe my whole life-”

Yoongi says nothing.

“I know you told me not to look into his coding-”

“You didn’t,” Yoongi groans.

“Things just weren’t adding up!” you insist, looking at your boss with a heavy heart. “Did… did you know that he has sex bot base code? Is that why you told me not to look too deeply into him?”

Yoongi puts his head in his hands. When he meets your eyes again, he’s frowning. “Sex bot code? In a new model like Mingyu?”

At least your boss hasn’t been completely compliant with whatever bullshit is coming out of Mingyu’s management office.

“Sex bot code,” you repeat, nodding firmly. “I triple-checked it. There’s just a few lines, easily missable, but it accounts for the bad behaviors. Especially once I talked more with Mingyu and realized he sees affection from his fanbase as love. It would make sense he’d get aggressive with other members in his group if he perceived them as earning more than him-”

“You know why sex bots were banned. You know about the dangers-”

“I do. I also know there are laws against it, which is why his management probably opted for a behavioral specialist with rules not to look deeply into the coding. They hoped I could fix this without ever finding out that what they’ve been creating is illegal- but how many more robots that come through here might have the same code?” You have no clue how deep this conspiracy might run. “Just think about it, how do you make a level one celebrity robot as life like as possible? You give it some of the characteristics of humans that are our deepest downfalls, jealousy, aggression, restlessness, a need to perform- a need to do well for the humans that pay their companies whole fortunes-”

“Any well-coded robot can have what looks like jealousy, aggression and other typically bad human traits,” Yoongi points out.

“Yeah, but this is that on steroids. Automatons used to kill humans in the name of their beloved master, for any perceived infraction.”

“So you’re saying Mingyu is dangerous.”

Your lips part in shock. “I’m saying, he has the capacity for it, as much as any human.”

“This is bad.”

“It is, but with the right treatment- Mingyu wants to get better, I know he does.”

“And how do you suggest you accomplish that?”

“We let him be free. We make sure he doesn’t go back to extreme schedules, to a dark management facility with handlers who only care about money. We make sure he doesn’t go back to all the things that would drive any human insane.”

“He’s not human, don’t forget that,” Yoongi warns you. “And we don’t get to decide if he goes back. He has a job-”

“His members might not ever be recaptured,” you point out. “Mingyu says some would rather die than go back- is that not proof enough that their treatment isn’t humane?”

“Again, we’re talking about a robot.”

“AI are sentient!” you insist. “You should know that better than almost anyone. Are you really going to sit here and tell me that even after all this time, you still see automatons as simple machines that we can do what we want with?” Yoongi is quiet so you continue. “Mingyu’s base code might be archaic, but maybe our treatment of robots is too.”

“Look, this isn’t up for debate. You’re talking about fighting galaxy law-”

“I’m talking about having a job where we deal with broken AI but never fix the real problem. I’m talking about freedom being the thing that truly helps AI. I’m talking about humanity being the bug in every robot’s misdeeds-”

“This is bordering on conspiracy theory.”

“We’re way past conspiracy,” you tell him. “Please, freedom is the only thing we’ve never tried as a long term solution to automatons that are having trouble. As much as we do our best to fix them, we always throw them right back into their jobs, into the thing that breaks them in the first place and then they end up back here.”

“Mingyu was built to be exactly where he is now.”

“Well maybe we shouldn’t be creating sentient lives just to throw them into slave-like jobs and threaten destruction if they don’t adhere to their company’s insanely high standards.”

Yoongi holds your gaze but he says nothing, mouth set in a firm line.

“Look, if there was ever a time to test this theory, it would be with Mingyu. I’m a hundred percent positive that his group will never be whole again. If we try this, and it works, if Mingyu’s aggression goes back to a normal level, if he shows everyone that there can be a happy medium when working with robots- it could change everything.”

There’s another stagnant silence and you wait for your boss to chastise you, for him to even fire you-

“You know what,” Yoongi sighs, “I’m not going to argue with you over this any more. I don’t make the decision, his management does. If you want to call them, and explain what you’ve just explained to me, you can do that. But this is your shitstorm, and I don’t want to be part of it.”

“So… so you’re saying I can go forward with this treatment plan?”

“You can, but, I can’t protect you from any consequences of your actions. And I hope you know that once you do this, once you admit to going against their rule to not to look into his coding, there’s no going back.”

Mingyu can feel his aggression levels rising the moment Jimin shows up at the tennis court instead of you, but he focuses on the self-soothing tactics you’d shown him in his entry to wellness booklet. His grip on his racket tightens, but not enough to break it, and he tries to keep a level tone when he asks, “Where’s y/n?”

“She’s in a meeting,” Jimin says dismissively.

“With who?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

Mingyu stares at Jimin for a few seconds. “I want to speak to your manager.”

Jimin makes an amused face. “I didn’t realize they taught you KAREN code in robotics labs. Aren’t you supposed to be a level one?”

Mingyu doesn’t have time for digs about him being a bitchy woman from over a hundred years ago, and he certainly doesn’t have time to play tennis if you’re somewhere talking to your boss about him, somewhere risking your job and his life-

“If you really must know, she’s on a conference call with your management, discussing your treatment plan.”

Mingyu supposes if there’s one thing he should admire about Jimin, it’s his loose lips. “Is she in her quarters?”

“Now that’s really not your concern.”

For a split second, Mingyu considers breaking his racket, but instead, he simply sets it on the ground before turning to take off in the direction of your room.

He’s never been to your private space, or even in the worker’s wing, but two days ago, you’d mentioned that you have a corner room, one that overlooks the northwest skies, where you can see the sunset and the moons-

He’d also seen a map of the facility, on numerous fire escape screens, and it’s a quick deduction to figure out where you should be.

He can’t afford to be wrong about this, and for the first time in his life, Mingyu finds himself praying to the human God that he’s able to get to you. To help you in your bid to protect him from his own masters.

Mingyu is running through the facility, but no one tries to stop him, and he’s glad that the wellness center doesn’t have the same armed guards that he’d been accustomed to for most of his life. There are no true handlers here, and it almost feels like freedom for the automaton.

He’s chasing after you, after his destiny-

With beyond human ear sensors, Mingyu is able to hear your voice as he rounds the hall that should lead him to your room, and by the time he’s stopped in front of your door, he knows he’s in the right place.

He also knows that you’re being shot down by his management, and he can hear the ceo, a Mr. Han, chastizing you for looking into Mingyu’s code.

Mingyu wants to barge in, but he finds the control in himself to knock. He hears you apologize profusely, the shrill sound of your chair being dragged across the floor, then footfalls-

Your door opens and Mingyu looks down at you, relief flooding his system.

“Mingyu-”

“I need to be here for this,” he insists. “This can’t be decided without me.”

Your lips part as if to protest, but then you shut them, and you hold the door open wider for the robot to enter the space.

A large screen on your wall shows that not only is Mr. Han present, but many of the other ceo’s and managers from Mingyu’s entertainment company. These are the men and women who have dominion over him, the men and women that could terminate him with one phone call-

His entire life is riding on this moment, and Mingyu decides there’s no possible way he can afford to fuck this up, in any capacity. Not only for himself, but for you too.

“Y/N didn’t do anything wrong,” Mingyu states, approaching the screen so his management team can see him properly.

Mr. Han sighs. “She went against explicit rules about tampering with your base code-”

“And you created me using illegal code.” Mingyu knows he’s being aggressive, he can feel it, but he knows that this fact is his biggest bargaining chip, and he’s not afraid to use it right out of the gate.

There’s silence on the conference call.

“This would be a scandal if it got out,” Mingyu continues, “more than it already is.”

“Mingyu,” you say quietly at his side, “don’t-”

“No, they need to hear this,” he insists. “They need to know they can’t push you or me around anymore.”

If there’s one language Mr. Han understands, it’s that of business, and Mingyu’s lucky he knows how to speak it as well. “I don’t know what has already been said,” he confesses, “but I’ve run this through my head, and there are only a few options. Some are better than others.”

“We’re listening,” Mr. Han sighs.

“Option one, you try to hide all of this, but it gets out anyways. Using bugged sex bot coding will get out sooner or later, and you’ll all go down being known as the company that used illegal coding to make their money and put their team at risk.” Mingyu stares into the camera, hoping the impact is clear. “Option two… you allow y/n to continue her revolutionary behavioral treatment on me, it’s successful, and somewhere down the line you can come out admitting there were mistakes in the base code, but now you have a solution for it.”

“I feel like we have more options than that,” Mr. Han says.

“Maybe,” Mingyu admits, “but the way I see it, all that matters is these two. The bad coding comes out now, and you’re exposed with no solutions, or, it comes out later with a fix already in place.”

“So you expect us to just allow you to stay at the wellness center forever?” Mr. Han questions, as if it’s one of the most preposterous things he’s ever heard.

“Not forever.”

“You were made to perform, made to make the company money, to work-”

“My group will never be whole again,” Mingyu states. “You won’t be able to recapture all thirteen of us-”

“That’s yet to be determined.” Mr. Han is trying to make it sound like anything is possible, but Mingyu knows it’s highly improbable, and these are odds he’s willing to bet his life on.

“I can be your success story,” he insists. “I can continue doing modeling jobs, continue being a brand mouthpiece for the company- most of us automatons want to work, but, if there’s one thing I’ve learned while being in this facility, it’s that everyone deserves a break. I might be a robot, but I have needs too. I’ll perform better if tactics from this facility are applied to my day to day schedule-”

“You want to be treated like a human?” Mr. Han asks in shock. “Given weekends off?”

“I might not have a soul,” Mingyu admits, “but I’m alive. I have feelings. I have needs, wants,” his gaze slides to you, “aspirations.”

Mr. Han laughs, “Aspirations? Outside of performing? Like what?”

“Right now, I’m trying to read a very good book,” Mingyu states.

“This is preposterous.” Mr. Han sighs.

“What’s preposterous is the working conditions that your company implements on your AI.” For the first time, Mingyu’s gaze shifts to the other people on the screen. “Think about your sons, your daughters, nieces, nephews- would you want your loved ones forced to do the life I was forced to do? Working all day, every day? With handlers threatening them at every turn? Or would you want to give them some semblance of balance?”

No one says anything.

“You say me and my members are the ones with bugs, we’re the ones that have to be fixed, but it’s the system that’s faulty. What’s the point of AI that’s life like if it’s not free? If it’s not truly living- sitting in the sun, reading a good book, playing stupid sports games with no pressure to excel to an extreme? What’s the point in parading me around if you never give me the environment to achieve past my intrinsic base code? To become more than what I am, a passionate AI who wants to do good for the galaxy?”

“You do good by making your fans happy.”

“There’s more to life than their happiness. First, I need to reach my own. Without constraint, or threat, or fear.”

Ten seconds pass before Mr. Han says anything. “We’ll need time to consider this. After deliberation, we will call you back.”

The line is dropped and Mingyu hears you let out a deep breath he hadn’t known you were holding.

“Well,” you bite at your lip, “at least it wasn’t an immediate no.” You turn to him, reaching out and grabbing his hand. “I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. They can say what they want going forward but, as far as I’m concerned, Mingyu, this is the first time I’ve really seen you truly free.”

Waiting for Mingyu’s management team to deliberate is one of the hardest hours of your life. You want to try to stay calm, for Mingyu more than anything, but he sees right through you. When you begin to pace, the automaton stands up to join you, moving back and forth through your space with a concerned expression.

When the shrill sound of your meeting room ringing makes you practically jump, Mingyu reaches out and squeezes your hand, giving you a look that says ‘we’ll get through this,’ although, you’re not so sure.

“Hello, Mr. Han,” you greet the ceo on your screen, fidgeting with your fingers.

The rich man knows time is money, and he cuts to the chase. “After careful consideration,” he says with a sigh, “we’ve decided we can open negotiations with you about the future. As it is true that we might not ever have a complete 53V3NT33N unit again, we think it’s best if Mingyu stays in the center under your care, although in a month’s time, we will revisit this situation with new updates such as the possible recapture of any other members.”

You’re in shock. Completely overwhelmed- and luckily, Mingyu is there to confirm the details where you’re unable to speak.

“Revisit the situation,” Mingyu repeats. “So this means you won’t terminate me.”

“Not any time soon,” Mr. Han confirms. “We all agree that if your sex bot base code gets out, it would reflect badly on all of us. It seems as if you’re making progress at the center, and if there is a behavioral answer to the base code bugs, we’d like to find it. Good work y/n. And Mingyu, we’re pleased with your commitment to getting better.”

“Thank you, Mr. Han,” you swallow thickly. “I’ll write a full report on my findings detailing Mingyu’s progress, triggers, and the reasoning behind how his base code is affecting aggression levels.”

Mr. Han nods. “We’ll be excited to receive it, and we’ll be in touch.”

With a short goodbye, the call ends.

You stand there for a moment, still in shock.

“We did it,” Mingyu breathes, turning to you. “We did it!”

“You did it,” you tell him, reaching out to grab his hands. “Mingyu, I can’t believe-” Your voice cracks, and you can’t complete your sentence, but it doesn’t matter because your big, lovable, automaton is pulling you to his chest, wrapping you in a hug that calms your entire body.

You lean into his embrace, resting your cheek against his strong form and taking a deep breath of relief.

He holds you for a while, hand stroking your back. “Do you need me to go back to my room?” he asks.

“What?” You pull away to look up at him in confusion.

“I thought maybe you’d have to go tell your boss about this-”

“No,” you shake your head quickly. “He can wait.” You’re so close to him, as close as you’ve ever been, and you find yourself staring at his perfect lips. “He can wait, because I want to do something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s something that’s been on my mind since that first day I met you, something I never allowed myself to want- but now it’s something I think we both need… can I kiss you, Mingyu?”

“Please-” he practically melts in your embrace, looking down at you with those star filled eyes that had captured your attention the very first time you’d seen him.

You reach up, cupping his cheek and getting on your tiptoes to press your lips to his.

You’ve never kissed an automaton before, and as Mingyu reacts to you, opening his mouth to allow your tongue to glide across his own, you find that kissing him isn’t much different from any of the humans you’ve kissed in your life. In fact, it’s better.

His own hands slip around your waist, pulling you tight to the front of his body. You stifle a moan from the contact, loving the way he feels against you.

“Mingyu,” you whisper against his lips, already able to feel yourself getting wetter and wetter-

“More,” he insists. “Please, I want more.”

“Then take me to bed,” you say simply, all your inhibitions disappearing as you revel in the sanctity of being in his arms.

The automaton reaches down and lifts you up as if you weigh nothing. You wrap your legs around his waist, kissing him deeper as he closes the short distance to your mattress. He lowers you slowly onto the horizontal surface, and you marvel at the control his robotic muscles provide for him in man handling of you. You could definitely get used to this.

Then you realize something, and you stop kissing him, taking a breath while his mouth moves to your neck. “Mingyu- have you ever done anything like this before?”

“Hmm?” he hums against your throat.

“I mean… with all your work and handlers, have you ever…” you bite your lip, “have you ever had sex?”

Mingyu pulls away to look down at you, and then he gives his head a small shake. “I’ve never had the time… never met the right person.”

A virgin sex bot, who’s ever heard of such a thing?

“But,” he continues, “I have the base code for it, and with my people pleasing tendencies, I don’t think I’ll have any trouble making you feel good.”

“That was never in question,” you assure him, cupping his face and drawing your thumb across his cheekbone. “And tonight shouldn’t just be about me. I can take care of you too… in fact, the whole point of this wellness center is me looking after your needs, wouldn’t you agree?”

Mingyu blinks at you, and he makes no word of protest when you push at his chest, encouraging him to roll so his back is pressed to the mattress while you steady yourself on top of him, straddling his hips.

“We can take this slow,” you tell him, leaning down to kiss his lips before moving to his neck. “Let me know what makes you feel good.”

“You feel good,” he says, dragging his hands along your form. “Your body feels perfect.”

“Yeah?” You swivel your hips, rubbing your core against the large bulge forming in his pants. “Does it feel good when I grind on you?”

“Feels like heaven,” Mingyu confirms, fingers digging into your waist, encouraging you to apply more pressure when you rut against him.

“How about your neck?” you ask, pressing more kisses there. “Do you have any sweet spots?”

“I think… just below my ear-” Mingyu shivers when you lick the spot in question, and the reaction fuels your ego, making you more confident than ever. “Wow-”

You find yourself giggling, teasing your hands over his white shirt and toying with the hem. “Can I take this off of you, Gyu?”

“Gyu-” he repeats almost wistfully. “I mean, yeah, yes.”

When you begin to tug the fabric up, Mingyu lifts his shoulders off the bed, aiding you in the removal of his shirt.

You’ve seen him shirtless before, while in the pool, but you’d had to try really hard not to appreciate his body then. Now, you can fully lean into your lust for him.

“You’re so beautiful, Gyu,” you whisper, tracing a nail along his washboard abs.

“You are too-”

“But right now is about you,” you remind him. “Let me appreciate you, please?”

You return your mouth to his neck, suckling on the spot that makes him dig his fingers into your hips again. He lets out a pretty moan, and in return, you grind your core against his bulge, beginning the descent of your lips to his collarbone, then his chest-

“You know,” you breathe as you stop your mouth on his abs, looking up at him, “I’ve read that automatons can cum multiple times without needing to recharge… does that mean you’ll let me suck you off before I fuck you? Seeing as this is your first time, I wouldn’t want to skip over any milestones.”

“Please-” Mingyu’s hips push up almost involuntarily, and you have to settle your hands on his waist. “Are you… are you sure about this?”

“Are you?”

“More than anything.”

“Then we’re on the same page,” you tell him, hooking your fingers in the waistband of his white joggers. “I’m going to take your pants off now.”

As he did with his shirt, Mingyu helps you undress him, lifting his hips to make it easier for you to slip the fabric down. You make a conscious decision to leave his briefs on, wanting to toy with him a little, to go slow-

When you cup his bulge, Mingyu moans loudly, and you look up at him with a cocked brow. “Very sensitive, hmm?”

“You just feel so good,” Mingyu groans. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“You’re so big,” you nearly whimper, squeezing his cock through his briefs.

“Nine inches,” he confirms. “Is that… is that okay?”

“It’s big,” you say again, playing with his briefs. You’d left them on to toy with him, but you’re pretty sure you’ve only successfully toyed with yourself. “Can I pull these down?”

“Please-” again, Mingyu lifts his hips, helping you remove his final piece of clothing.

His large cock practically slaps up against his abs, and you groan at the sight. You suppose he’d been built by someone, made to be perfect, in every way, so you shouldn’t be surprised by how beautiful he is. Yet, you are.

You wrap your hand around the base of his length. “I don’t think I’ll be able to fit much of you in my mouth,” you tell him honestly.

“That’s okay,” he assures you. “Your hand feels really good.”

“Does it?” You rub your thumb over the large vein that runs along the underside of his cock, appreciating how realistic he is. Of course, as an automaton, Mingyu’s body doesn’t really need veins, but it’s the thought that counts, and whoever designed Mingyu put a lot of thought into him.

“So good-” Mingyu groans.

You kitten lick the head of his cock and Mingyu moans louder. “You’re going to have to be a little quieter, Gyu,” you instruct. “Even though I love your sounds.”

“Okay, I’ll try-” he nods, watching you with a dazed expression.

This time, instead of just licking him, you wrap your whole mouth around his large tip, suckling on the skin. Mingyu lets out a small whimper, grabbing at the bed sheets.

You’re not sure if Mingyu’s cock will feel the same type of skin irritation of dry strokes, but you want him to have the best experience possible, so you allow yourself to drool on his cock. You bob up and down on what can fit in your mouth while collecting the spit lubrication, rubbing it along his shaft and applying a good amount of pressure-

“Shit-” This must be the first time you’ve heard Mingyu cuss, and the thought delights you as you continue to blow him like your life depends on it.

You close your eyes, getting lost in the feeling of pleasuring him. It’s been a while since you’ve slept with anyone, as working out of a wellness center doesn’t provide you with many opportunities to meet men, especially men who you like. But you really like Mingyu, in fact, part of you thinks you might even love him, as crazy as that sounds.

You’d almost forgotten how good it feels to give this sort of attention to someone you care about, and your hand moves faster on his cock while you try to take more of him into your mouth.

“This feels amazing-” Mingyu breathes above you, and it gives you the motivation you need to be extra daring, allowing the tip of his cock to hit the back of your throat- “Fuck-”

His hips push up slightly and you rest one of your hands on his abdomen again, encouraging him to stay still while you blow him. As much as you’d like to let him fuck your face, he’s simply too big to do that, especially when you haven’t had a cock in your mouth in months.

You continue stroking him, but you pull your lips from his length, taking a breath and looking up at the gorgeous man. “Do you think you can cum for me, Gyu?”

“I can do anything for you,” he whispers back.

“Yeah?” you pump his cock harder, leaning down to lick the underside from base to tip.

“Please-” he practically begs. “I think I’m close-”

With the way automatons often power down at night, you wonder if he’s ever even touched himself. If he’s ever actually cum before- but now’s not the right time to ask for details, not when your mouth needs to be on him again instead of talking.

You go back to sucking on his cock, paying special attention to the sensitive tip while your hand works what your mouth can’t. All the while, Mingyu’s small sounds of pleasure keep you going, and they get pitchier and pitchier until you know he’s on the cusp of an orgasm.

“Oh my god,” he moans, “I’m gonna-”

The automaton can’t even finish his sentence, his whole body tensing as he explodes down your throat. You’re pleasantly surprised to find that his cum tastes like grape- and you’re reminded that sex bots have flavoured ejaculate. If you remember correctly, grape had been a flavour often given to the hopeless romantic/soft boy bots, and you realize how fitting it is.

You also realize that this might be why Mingyu’s been kept under such lock and key. If anyone had ever tasted his cum, they would have immediately made the sex bot connection. As far as you know, many non sex bots have flavourless cum, or something akin to the taste of a human’s but Gyu’s is one hundred percent sex bot and one hundred percent sexy.

It actually tastes good, and you have no problems swallowing every drop, working Mingyu through his orgasm until he’s whimpering above you, reaching down to push the hair out of your face.

You pull off Mingyu’s cock, looking up at him to find the most blissed out automaton you’ve ever seen. “That was amazing,” he tells you.

“I enjoyed that too,” you admit.

“You did?” He watches you sit up, undoing the buttons of your shirt.

“Uh huh, you taste perfect, Gyu.”

“I do?” He looks almost bashful, and as handsome as ever. “I bet… I bet you taste good too.”

Your pussy throbs and you let out a deep breath, removing your shirt. “Maybe you should see for yourself.”

“Fuck, yes, please-” Mingyu sits up abruptly, grabbing you and gently tossing you onto the bed next to him. You land on your back, and Mingyu is quick to get between your legs, lips finding your own.

He only kisses you for a moment before he begins a descent that’s similar to what you’d done to him, and you wonder if he’s using your own actions as a base for learning what to do in a sexual situation.

His tongue teases over your collar bone and his large hand comes up to cup your breast. “Can I take your bra off?” he asks.

“You can take everything off,” you confirm, arching your back so he can slip his hand under you and undo the clasp in record speed.

Your breasts are now exposed to the cool air of your room, and your nipples pebble for Mingyu’s eager mouth. His lips wrap around a sensitive bud while his fingers begin to play with the other, teasing and gently pinching at you.

You moan, threading your own digits through his hair. “Feels so good, Gyu.”

He groans, teeth grazing your nipple and causing you to buck your hips, pushing up against his body-

“Please-” you whimper, and Mingyu seems to know exactly what to do with your begging. His hand slips between your bodies, and he works on the front of your pants while he continues to worship your chest.

When he gets your button and zipper undone, his mouth continues it’s descent, both hands reaching to tug on your pants. You lift your hips, and in one motion, you find yourself completely naked.

Mingyu’s much too big to lie on the foot of the bed, so he slips to the floor, grabbing your legs and pulling you closer. “You look so pretty,” he tells you, adjusting your thigh onto his shoulder while looking at your pussy. “So wet and perfect-”

You feel your skin heat with something like embarrassment, but the feeling quickly dissipates as soon as Mingyu brings his mouth to your core.

He doesn’t start with kitten licks, but instead goes all in. His tongue pushes into your hole, nose brushing by your clit while he tastes your walls. The feeling is absolutely delightful and it makes you gasp, reaching down to thread your fingers through his soft hair, grinding yourself against his face.

“Mingyu,” you whimper, “just like that!”

He continues to eat you out, continually brushing his nose by your clit while you close your eyes and enjoy the sensation. His tongue is like magic, especially when he pulls it from your hole to circle your sensitive nub.

When you look down at him, you find him watching you, checking you for reactions, and the eye contact makes your stomach do flips. “You’re so good,” you tell him, knowing he likes praise.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and you cry out, hips pushing toward his face-

One of his large hands finds your abdomen, holding you down against the bed while the other slips between your legs, two fingers easily sliding into your hole beneath his tongue on your clit.

The feeling has you grabbing at the sheets, orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. “I’m close,” you tell him. “Please, Mingyu-”

He sucks on your clit even harder, pumping his fingers in and out of your wet hole until your pussy is clamping down on him and you’re cumming hard. You cry out, whole body alight with pleasure as he works you through your high, tongue circling your clit and causing tingles of euphoria to jitter through you until you’re bucking your hips and on the edge of overstimulation.

Mingyu pulls away from you, slowly pumping his fingers before removing them too. Then he brings his digits to his lips and you watch him lick them clean, groaning at your taste.

You need him more than you’ve ever needed anyone in your entire life.

“Please, Gyu,” you whimper. “I need you inside of me-”

He stands from the foot of the bed, towering over you while you open your legs for him. Then one of his knees digs into the mattress and he’s joining you again, lifting you up so he can position you higher, with your head on the pillows.

He grabs the base of his cock, looking down between your bodies to where he’s rubbing through your folds. “What if this hurts you?” he asks.

“It won’t. You won’t,” you assure him, grabbing at his strong shoulders. “I trust you.”

He looks deep into your eyes, leaning down to kiss you before he begins to push into your wet hole. You moan against his lips, body working to accommodate the large intrusion that he so gently slides into you.

“You’re so tight,” he whimpers, “so warm.”

“Only for you Gyu, only for you-”

He kisses you then, giving small thrusts until he’s burying himself completely, your bodies are flush together while you wrap your arms around the back of his neck. You’ve never felt anything like Mingyu, and when he takes his first real thrust, you cry out in pleasure, moaning desperately against his mouth.

His hand digs into your hips, keeping you anchored while he picks up his speed, and that’s when you remember that as an automaton, he can go as fast as he wants, for as long as he wants.

He’s hitting spots deep inside of you, spots that have never truly been used until now, and you know that you’re not going to last long like this.

When his lips move down to the sweet spot on your neck, you can feel your pussy clench around him, and Mingyu groans against your skin.

“You’re perfect,” he tells you, fucking you harder. “So perfect-”

You can’t even speak, can’t tell him that he’s the one who’s perfect. All you can do is moan in his ear while he makes you feel like no one else in the galaxy ever has.

You’d come into this hoping you’d be the one fucking him, the one taking care of him, but now, he’s taking care of you, and you promise yourself to return the favour when possible. You’d love to ride him, but your legs already feel like jelly, and when Mingyu slips a hand between your bodies again, drawing circles on your clit, you know you’ll be a goner soon.

“Gyu-” you whimper. “I’m so close-”

“I want you to cum,” he groans, fucking you faster. “Wanna make you cum.”

“Please,” you’re nearly crying from how perfect it all feels. “So good, so good-”

“I’m close too,” he tells you. “Watching you cum will send me over- you’re so pretty when you cum.”

His praise makes your core throb again and you gasp, threading your fingers through his hair and bringing his lips to yours. You can’t explain it, but you want to be kissing him when you’re thrown over the edge, want to be completely consumed by him-

“Gyu-” you whimper, closer and closer-

He kisses you harder while he fucks you stupid, taking your breath away until you’re gasping out as you fall over the edge, pussy clamping down hard on his cock.

He moans into your mouth, pace never faltering as he fucks you through your orgasm, working you for all you’re worth while you claw at his shoulders and whimper pathetically.

You can feel him filling you up, coating your insides with his cum, making you his needy little whore. You feel greedy for it, for all of it, for all of him.

His thrusts slowly come to a stop, and he pulls away from your lips to look down at you, watching you catch your breath. “Would it be crazy to tell you I love you?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “No crazier than me returning the sentiment.”

“Really?” His mouth is on yours a moment later, and he kisses you with newfound passion.

It’s easy to get lost in his lips again, even while his cock is still buried balls deep in your pussy, and you wrap your arms tighter around the back of his neck, hoping he never leaves you.

It seems as though the same thought is on Mingyu’s mind, because when he pulls away, he asks, “What happens after all of this?”

“I’m not sure,” you admit. “But… no matter what, I’m going to fight for you. I promise.”

“Really?”

“Uh huh. I’ve worked in this facility for years- I’ve watched level ones come in and out of here, seen the wear and tear, the use of bad coding. I’ve got lots of ideas on how to help you - and them - get better. If you’re not the only one with sex bot code, it would explain a lot of the issues I’ve seen-”

“Are you going to fix me?” the automaton asks.

For some reason, you find yourself laughing. “Mingyu,” you cup his face, thinking through all the events that have led you to this moment. “I could never fix you, you don’t need to be fixed. In fact… I think you fixed me.”

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🔮 preview. He’s an AI with sexbot coding and a one track mind when it comes to making love, and you honestly sort of love that about him.

cw/ tw. Sad Gyu, distraction sex, pussy eating, pussy stretching, fingering, blowjob, unprotected sex, teasing, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, praise, big dick mingyu, switchy/submissive leaning Mingyu, hair pulling, breast worship, mention of the classic sex bot flavoured ejaculate, etc…

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 600

🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s been months since Mingyu came to the wellness centre, and everything has been going above expectation for him. He’s doing brand endorsements again and his management team has done a great job smoothing over the escape that took place.

You’ve been working on his coding, using behavioral therapies, and Mingyu’s aggression is at an all time low. He’s happy most days, and you are too… that is, until you get word that one of his band mates has been recaptured.

Against all your protests, his management team insists that Mingyu return to Earth to see the AI Mingyu knows as Dino. It’s a brief trip, and the fourty eight hours he’s gone feel like the longest in your life. There’s no way of knowing how this reconnection with a former ‘friend’ will affect Mingyu, and you brace yourself for damage control as you wait for his ship to land, returning him to your care.

He’s frowning as he exits the shuttle, and when he pulls you into a hug, he squeezes just a little too tight. “Come inside,” you tell him softly when he releases you. “I’m sure we have a lot to talk about.”

He says nothing, but he holds your hand as you lead him into the facility, walking unopposed to your quarters. Mingyu’s in your sole care, and your manager, Yoongi, has washed his hands of anything dealing with your new AI turned lover. You prefer it this way.

Mingyu’s quiet as you close your bedroom door, and he walks over to collapse onto your bed, staring at the floor.

“Take your time,” you say softly, sitting next to him and resting your hand on his back. “When you’re ready to talk, tell me what happened.”

Mingyu fidgets with a ring on his pinky- a ring that all his AI members used to share. He’s silent for a few minutes, and you wait patiently, rubbing his back and leaning against his shoulder.

“They wiped his memory,” Mingyu says finally. “Dino. They wiped him.”

You study his face, looking for any micro expressions, but Mingyu’s gaze is blank as he stares at the floor.

“Did they tell you why they decided to do that?” you ask, trying to be gentle with him.

“They said he was too far gone. He was away for months. They said there was no other way to get him back to the way he was… but he’s not the way he was. He never will be.” Mingyu takes a deep breath. “I asked them why they wouldn’t try rehab, why they couldn’t send him here- they said Dino gave up that opportunity when he ran away. I stayed, I gave myself up willingly, which is why they thought there was hope for me. Something about my actions being like a guilty plea, lessening the sentence. But Dino evaded them for months.”

You take a moment to consider everything he’s said.

If this is the precedent that his management is setting, that means none of his other bandmates can be recaptured, or they’ll suffer the same fate… if not worse. You can’t imagine what they’d do to Seungcheol, who was the ringleader in all of this- and you don’t want to think about it too deeply.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“You didn’t do anything,” Mingyu says meekly. “I know you tried to convince them to send him here but- I guess not everyone gets a happy ending. In fact, I’m starting to think most people like me never will.”

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general taglist

@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling

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svt taglist:

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@yourfavoritefreakyhan - @asjkdk

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#mingyu #mingyu smut #svthub #svthub.collab #kim mingyu #kim mingyu smut #svt #svt smut #mingyu svt #svt mingyu #seventeen #seventeen smut #ai mingyu #mingyu svt smut #svt mingyu smut

1K notes · View notes

sxeraphfic · 1 month

Note

6 with Loki!! NSFW please (maybe smut? hhaha) he’s saying!!! thankss

DETECTIVE LOKI - JEALOUSY NSFW PROMPT

╰┈➤“It looked like he was trying to flirt with you”

Pairing: David Loki x reader

Word count: 2232

WARNINGS: p in v sex, creampie, slight grinding, possessive sex, biting, marking, swearing, average dirty talk, spanking, palming, semi-public, loki is a little bit of a grump at the start, not super ooc i hope, both of you are a little toxic lol, fingers in mouth. Let's assume birth control is in place here. Lol. Think that's it, there might be more.

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This is actually my first ever published nsfw fic, so please go easy on me <3 Enjoy my loves!

You and Loki had been coworkers for what felt like an eternity by now, he was a diligent person who took his occupation acutely seriously. Which is grounds for why he managed to not only get promoted up to being a sergeant of the sector you worked in, but also have exclusive access to his own private office and dictatorship over other workers' roles. Unmistakably, he is incredible as a detective and supervisor. That being said, he isn't perfect. He’s reckless, arrogant, stubborn, cocky, antisocial, a workaholic and breaking what would be considered a societal rule of workplaces. Don't mess around with your coworker!

You two had been in a secret situationship for around almost a year now, casual but also intense. No-one in your work suspected a thing either, Loki was just as good at hiding things as he was at figuring them out. The thing about casual yet intense secret situationships is that how concrete the “relationship” actually is, could be considered shaky. He’s never really explicitly made it clear to even you what you both are, despite spending almost every waking hour outside of work together whether that be romantic dates, cuddling, sex etc. Did this frustrate you? Yes. You wanted him to be emotionally available and ready for you, to not have to wonder to yourself whether he even considers you an actual partner or not. You'd bring up the question and he would act so stupidly nonchalant about it or say he just wants to “let it go with the flow.”

Does he even give a shit? You sighed to yourself staring at the timed out screen of your computer, leaning back and stretching your back and arms out.

Before you could go back to your daydreams, or work for that matter. You heard one of your coworkers call out your name from across the room.

“Hey! y/n! y/n! C'mere for a sec.” Your coworker Miles announced

Your cheeks widened, Miles was a relatively new guy around your age. He was kind of childish, bright, bubbly and overall just a nice guy. You were assigned to train him and since then he's more or less stuck by your side and been a great coworker for you to do cases and research with.

Making your way over to his desk you spotted a certain someone from the corner of your eye. Loki, walking towards another coworker's desk yet clearly distracted by whatever you were up to. He thinks he's good at having a poker face, and he is. Just not with you, that furrowed eyebrow and light frown said it all. It's mainly your fault he's on high alert right now though, a few nights ago you felt tired of feeling like you were just an undecided casual fling for him. And so you may have.. Accidentally made a point that if he doesn't make a decision on what you guys are, you'll find someone else to be the one for you.

It pissed him off, clearly. But you assumed that you were both over that silly little argument by now since things had been relatively normal, but guesses are that wasn't the case. You and Miles chatted for around ten minutes or so, maybe even less. You giggled a few times here and there and even absent mindedly placed your hand on his shoulder, in the back of your head you realised how this may look to Loki and internally shuddered.

He began to stutter, “oh..oh um.. By the way y/n”

“Yes Miles?”

“I was thinking..um.. Well if you want to at some point we would like.. Maybe hang outside of work? Go to a bar or something?” he continued on “i mean- it's fine if not but y’know.. You're so sweet and kind to me… and well, beautiful.”

You saw from the corner of your eye Loki making his way over, oh boy.

“We are doing work here right, the two of you?” he asked sternly. You rolled his eyes at him “Yes Loki, we are. It's just unlike you, some people have lives outside of work” Miles looked awkwardly between you and Loki, the tension in the air was insanely thick. “Yeah uh.. Sorry about that Loki. I guess I got kind of distracted since y/n is fun to talk to” he smiled before semi-flirtatiously winking at you. Loki didn't twitch a single muscle in his face, you gave Miles an awkward smile to alleviate the atmosphere. Before Loki scoffed and pointed towards your desk “y/n. Off back to your desk please. I have some paperwork I need you to fill.” and then proceeded to turn to miles ``Miles, i know you're new here but flirting and dating is strictly prohibited in the workplace. If I catch that again you will be in trouble.” You huffed and walked away, how hypocritical of him..

It was past 11 pm now, the station was practically empty besides maybe a few less than a dozen people working. Loki had so happened to ask you to stay back to “talk about documents,” but you were well aware of what the conversation was really about. You walked into his office, immediately crossing your arms together.

“Come closer.'' He directed, pointing you to stand next to him as he sat down in his chair finishing up some paperwork. “So, wanna explain what was happening earlier? I saw that. And heard it” he continued on “It looked like he was trying to flirt with you, or maybe you were trying to flirt with him too.”

You extended your hand to his back, slowly moving up to his shoulder and beginning to massage him gently to cool him off. “Well no i wasn't flirting with him, but i didn't realise we were exclusive like that David.” he scoffed, and you huffed in return. “last time i checked our thing was barely even a thing right? Hardly even a label on it,” you began to apply more pressure to his shoulders. “Thats fucking hilarious” he asserted with an unfriendly grin, “So you want us to be an official thing and yet you accept others flirting with you right infront of me, really?” he pushed your hands off him and in response you glared at him. He continued on, “After our little argument the other day you have to have some sort of understanding on why I might be fuckin’ concerned.”

“What? I hardly accepted it..and even so you expect me to just sit around here waiting for you to be ready to label our relationship??? How about you look at the reality here David. You refuse to make the claim on me. Maybe someone like Miles would actually be able to commit and I appreciate the idea of it.”

David looked at you with shame on his face, something strangely comforting considering the argument you were in right now and his usual stubborn self. “Look Y/N, I know.. That i'm not exactly good at this whole thing. I’m so used to being alone that the thought of giving myself fully to someone.. well.. scares me.” he placed face into his palm “I don't want to be uncommitted to you, i want you to be mine. And maybe this has made me realise that.” He wrapped his arm around your waist and guided you to sit on his lap, wheeling his chair back a little for space. “The thought of some little twerp like Miles flirting with you drives me crazy. I know it's selfish but I want you to myself without the fear of uh.. Well, abandonment.”

You stretched your arms around his shoulders and pressed your forehead against his “I'm not leaving you David.. You're all I want.” “So make me yours please, commit me to me..” you whispered to him softly. His breath hitched and he sighed, pressing his lips against yours before tugging at your bottom lip ever so slightly with his teeth. The pinch of it made you squeak, you reached up to his hair and tugged on it tenderly. He pushed you up against him so he could have proper access to your neck, Slowly biting and sucking it between different places to give you light bruises. You moaned, beginning to rock your hips against him to gain some pressure against your clothed pussy. The sound of him growling against your neck as he sucked on the skin vibrated right down to your core, “Fuck this feels good, David” you gasped. “God y/n i want to ravage you right now” he whispered against you before leaning into another deep kiss, you could feel his dick throbbing through his pants as you both swirled and pressed tongues together.

You began to palm him through his pants during your kiss, stroking and feeling up the growing length. “David.. What if we get caught?” you said in between breaths. He choked out a stammered laughed in response “Fuck i don't even know if i care y/n, i need you so badly i wouldn't mind if people found out.” You giggled slightly, staring deeply into his eyes. “That's just your dick talking, but it's pretty empty in the station.. I'm sure it'll be fine.” You used that to cue him to start pulling down your pencil skirt and panties, whilst you unbuttoned his shirt and undressed his lower region halfway down to his thighs. His dick was hard and leaking with precum, his face flushed red. “You look so needy right now dave.” he sighed in response and you snickered as you began to grind your exposed wet pussy against his cock. He began rubbing his sticky hot tip up against your clit for extra stimulation and you whined, settling your head against his shoulder weakly. He furrowed his brow and showed his toothy grin “Look at you. a complete mess in my office on my lap, what happened to me being needy?” Before you could get another rebuttal in, he moved his hands down your body to your hips and began to align your hole to his cock. As he steadily pushed into you he groaned into your neck. “Fuuuck y/n” he murmured as he began to thrust up and down, you moaned in response pulling against his hair. He swiftly spanked your ass with one hand and placed the other around the nape of your neck massaging it, enjoying the whimpers and mewls he’d pull from your lips.

Unexpectedly the two of you heard footsteps from outside his office, both of you froze in place unsure of what to do

“Detective Loki? Are you there? May I come in please?” a voice of one of your coworkers called from outside the door

You expected him to stop and pull you off, but he smirked coyly and inserted three fingers into your mouth and began to slowly thrust into you again. You arched your back in response, trying to contain your moans and noises of slurping from the drool beginning to fill your mouth and dribble down your chin.

“Uh.. yeah i'm in here, look i need some uh.. um.. space for the moment” he awkwardly yelled back out, even you could see in his eyes that his adrenaline was at a maximum right now. What on earth was he thinking?

“Oh.. i have some pretty important paperwork man i-” David interrupted him before he could finish, “Please just leave it at your desk and i'll..” he stared at the way you were grinding up and down onto his dick, before snapping back to reality, “...come pick it up when I'm ready.” David was struggling to contain himself. He gazed into your eyes as you swirled your tongue around his fingers pushing in and out of your mouth, simultaneously thrusting his cock slowly and deeply inside of you. The warmth and stickiness of your bodies pressed against each other made him melt back into his leather chair.

As soon as he heard the door from outside his office shut he briskly lifted you up and flipped you over onto your stomach against his desk, he leaned down pressing his chest against your back, the pressure of his weight crushing you was so intense yet felt so good. “God you're sexy y’know that?” he half whined half growled into your ear, his thrusts becoming more and more powerful. You cried out in pleasure, unable to move or escape from the position. He pulled your hair to gain access to your ear, gently nibbling on your lobe as he continued his deep and sharp thrusts. “You’re all fucking mine y/n” he groaned, “Oh god i feel like i'm gonna cum David. Please cum in me” You yelped out squirming beneath him, gripping onto the edge of his now mess of a desk. He didn't need to be told twice to do so, he buried his face into your neck before pressing a final thrust into you, loading thick streams of cum inside. You practically shrieked, it felt incredible.

Afterwards you both just sat there together on his chair, unsure of what to do with the mess you made. But content and loving in each other's arms with him stroking his fingers through your hair.

“Bet he couldn't make you feel that good ay?” he chuckled.

partially proof read, will come back to check on it when i wake up <3

#drabble #fandom #fanfic #fanfic ideas #fanfiction writer #jake gyllenhaal #x reader #david loki #detective loki #prisoners 2013 #donnie darko #smut #my hcs #oneshot #writing prompt #dialogue prompt #valenfics

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tomieafterdark · 1 year

Text

“Eren we can’t have sex here, it’s sacrilege..18+”

want more content? check out my masterlist

pairing: virgin!fem!reader x corruption kink!eren

summary: innocent “history of religion” college trip turns absolutely scandalous when the devil himself, Eren Yeager happens to be part of that trip the same year as you.

cw: sacrilege, loss of virginity, masturbation (f), name calling (whore slut etc), use of good girl, use of baby, use of lamb once or twice, probably historically incorrect info about churches (yes I didn’t do research bite me), Eren wants to be called God, Heavenly Father and daddy, reader is religious but not overly, mentions of holy statues and religious symbols (cross) yes the bible is mentioned once (yes ik im going to hell along with everyone who will enjoy this), Eren is a bit into corruption, manipulation(?), hickeys, biting, blood (just on readers neck).

🃏 DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS IF YOU ARE A MINOR. BY CONTINUING TO READ, YOU CONSENT TO VIEWING ADULT CONTENT AND THE DARK CONTENT STATED IN CONTENT WARNING 🃏

You have always loved history and religion, those were your favourite subjects, ever since you were young you loved reading the bible with your parents. You loved learning more about your own religion and it’s history as well, so when your college had announced that they’d fund you on the annual “The History Of Religion” trip, you were filled with joy. You couldn’t afford it by yourself, and it was only for second years in your college program so you were beyond thankful for this literal once in a lifetime opportunity.

Day one: arriving at your first location

It’s a rather cold summer night even though it is mid July, you and everyone else on the trip quickly grab your bags and follow your teacher to the hotel lobby to escape the cold night. It’s not exactly warm there either, you shudder. As soon as everyone gets the keys to their rooms, they’re off before you can blink. Not a single person in sight, not even any of the hotel workers. This sucks, you needed help carrying your bags, you had brought three bags meanwhile everyone else just brought one. You sigh, this is going to be a long trip to your room.

“You need a hand?” A low voice asks.

You turn around, it’s a very tall and handsome man. He has beautiful emerald green eyes, brown hair in a bun. Nice build too. You recognise him, probably seen him around campus before…you can’t just remember when and where.

“Yes, that would be amazing” you smile.

“I’m Eren by the way, Eren Yeager.” He reaches out his hand to shake yours.

“Nice to meet you Eren, I’m y/n.” You shake his hand, it’s so big. You seem so tiny compared to him. You notice him staring at your hard nipples that are pushing against your thin crop top. You blush lightly and grab on to your cross necklace, you’d never admit it but you don’t mind a good looking guy like Eren staring at you like that. Heck, you’d let him do more than just stare.

“Shall we?“ he says grabbing two of your bags, on top of his own.

“Uh- yeah sure” you quickly follow.

“What floor are you on y/n?”

“Second”

“Looks like we’re on the same floor then, and you’re in room 4, right next to me in room 3.”

You thank Eren for helping you with the bags.

“I’ll be off then. Let me know if you need anything y/n. Good night” he says.

“Good night Eren” you say, quickly closing the door behind you. Just when you thought this trip wouldn’t get more exciting, a nice handsome guy like Eren shows up.

Eren walks back into his room, he is so exhausted he doesn’t even bother taking off his clothes before slowly dozing off to sleep.

“Aah- fuck” “nghh- oh god fuck”

Eren practically jolts up from his slumber, those moans sounded way too real to be his imagination. He freezes up, trying to locate where the sound is coming from. His eyes light up when he realises where it’s from. It’s from the other side of his bedroom wall, where your room is.

The sounds of your pussy squelching are louder than you think and Eren hears it all. “Looks like I won’t go to sleep early after all” he thinks to himself, already feeling his dick twitch every time moans and sloppy lewd sounds leave your room and escape through that one thin wall between the two of you. Your pretty sounds continue, only now you’re moaning someone’s name.

“Oh god, Eren. Fuck me, use me like your fuck toy” “

Eren smirks. He remembers the cross around your neck from earlier. “And here I thought you were a good little servant of god, and you’re crying out for me to use you like a fuck toy?? I guess that cross necklace is just for aesthetics no good religious girl would be this lewd for a guy she just met would she...”

Day two: the guided tour starts

You haven’t seen Eren all morning, you’re kind of disappointed. You had hoped to have breakfast with him at the hotel and hang out a bit, before the guided tour of the old church would start. He really caught your interest, and he was such a kind guy.

As you’re all getting ready to get on the bus, you look around for him. Maybe he is around here somewhere?? But nope, you still cannot see him anywhere, just like breakfast. You give up on your idea of wanting to spend the bus ride with Eren, seems that isn’t happening either. You take your seat by the window, all the way back at the bus and scroll through your Spotify playlist.

They end up starting the tour without Eren, because after that long bus ride he is still nowhere to be seen. You hear your annoyed teacher mumble something about Eren being lazy and letting daddy’s money and reputation fix everything for him, and then apologise about making everyone wait for one student who couldn’t bother to show up. The tour has officially started and Eren Yeager is still nowhere to be seen.

You end up eventually forgetting about Eren, your tour guide really knows what he is talking about. You’re so happy here, it feels like your element for sure. This one place the guide took you guys to, even gave you small gift bags with local candies, a light brown candle and some mini guide books about the history of the place.

Next spot is an old ancient church, you have been extremely excited for this one. It is a very very important part of the towns history and a very important part of your religions history as well, they only allow three guided tours per year here because it’s so important. And here you are, having the privilege to be present during one of those rare trips. You are admiring the outside as the guide walks you guys to the church doors, you are full of butterflies.

The whole group gasps when the doors open. This church has been untouched for hundreds of years if not more, everything is original. You couldn’t be happier. The guided tour of the inside officially starts now.

Day two: end of the tour..

Right as the tour is almost ending and you feel a hand on your shoulder. You look back, it is Eren. His emerald green eyes are staring right into your soul.

“Eren! Where have you been all day?” You get flashbacks of how you felt last night, and the feeling is creeping back. The way he is staring into your eyes has your stomach full of butterflies. You feel your face heating up a bit, hoping it’s not visible because you can’t exactly blame the nonexistent heat. How is this place not warm mid July?

“I was just busy with something, family stuff.” He is lying, he wasn’t busy with family stuff he had just been forced to go on this trip because his dad wants him to stop sleazing around, he had planned to miss every guided tour on this trip though. That is until he met you last night, which made him decide that maybe some of the tours were worth going to. His aura is different today, it is sinister and dark.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Eren. I hope it gets better.” Since you had no idea about the truth, you felt bad for him assuming it was something serious. You say a quick prayer for Eren in your head, incase it’s serious. How sweet and naive of you to believe a stranger you met last night.

The guide officially ended the tour, just as you’re about to walk out with the rest of the group Eren pulls you in to a corner. He puts his hand on your mouth, and tells you to be quiet. You feel a little worried. it must be something important if he has to pull you to the side like this…

Day two: the church doors closed..

“Eren, whatever it is be quick they just closed the door. The teacher will count everyone and if I’m not there, they’ll know” you say, mildly stressed realising you might get sent home for staying behind here after the tour ends.

“Don’t worry y/n” he smirks. “I slipped a note to the teacher before coming over to you. You felt sick and went back to the hotel earlier, you went quietly to not bother the tour and ruin it for the other good students. You are fine.”

“Alright Eren, what could be so important that you had to go and write an entire note for?” You ask.

He corners you against the church wall and puts his hand above your head, cold emerald eyes stare deep into your soul again. “I heard you last night y/n” he says, still coldly staring.

You feel your entire face and ears heating up. He can’t mean— no fucking way. It can’t be…you grab on to your cross necklace for emotional support because this is too much for you.

“Why so quiet now all of a sudden y/n? You were definitely not quiet last night.”

You are so shocked and embarrassed, you nearly lose balance but he catches you. He comes closer to your face.

“Your pretty little moans had me up all night“

You feel your pussy clenching around nothing at this point, but you’re avoiding eye contact to not go any further. This is an educational trip you cannot let your hormones ruin it. You have to stay focused. But a part of you also wants to give in, the purity culture your parents and church presented to you was never your thing, you’ve been sheltered until recently and a part of you really wanted to see how far you can go with Eren…maybe even lose your virginity to him.

He puts his hands on your thighs, and slowly explores them. He doesn’t do anything, he just waits for you to make the next move. This is fucking torture for you, it’s a fight between your horny self and the part of you that just wants to take things slow and stay a virgin a little longer because of a subconscious fear of disappointing god and your parents. The desire to explore and to distance yourself from your past wins. Your body betrays you. You wrap your arms around Eren and whisper “I want you” into his ears, sending chills down his spine.

“You want me to what baby? Use your words.” He says as he grabs a handful of your thigh.

“I want you to take my virginity Eren Yeager.”

Eren cannot believe what he just heard, a hottie like you is a virgin? He is too horny to process anything else and goes straight into kissing you and prepping you. He smiles as he lifts you up, your legs wrap around him automatically without any directions. You’re feeling euphoric, this is such a big moment for you. Taking a big step into adulthood, being independent, taking control of your own sexuality…you’re so lost in pleasure you don’t notice him carrying you and placing you on the church altar.

Erens hands wander your thighs, he is glad you picked this tiny skirt for today. Easy access. Fuck, a white tennis skirt has never looked this good on someone. He is definitely fucking you with the skirt on, you look way too good in it.

His hands feel so damn good on your thighs, you want them to go higher up. You need them to wander higher, explore places only your own hands have been before.

Eventually his hands go exactly where you wanted them, he can feel your wetness through your pretty lace thong. “You’re already soaking wet, such a good girl” he coos.

You just moan in return, searching for his mouth to continue kissing.

Eren is amused by how you don’t seem to mind fucking in a holy church like this, let alone on the altar where a statue of a very holy figure is right above you. Especially with that cross necklace of yours..so you’re not religious and it’s for aesthetic reasons?

He is wrong, it’s not for aesthetic reasons and you definitely haven’t noticed where you are. You totally forgot about it a while ago, completely lost in the pleasure you’ve denied yourself for so long. You feel one of his fingers slip inside you as his thumb works your clit.

“F-fuck Eren” you whine. “so fucking big- Aah!”

Eren gives your neck heavenly kisses, then kisses turn into sucking and he is putting hickeys all over your neck. Marking you as his, when hickeys aren’t enough he bites your neck making sure it leaves a bloody mark. You cry out from the pain but with everything else going on, like his finger pumping your pussy the pain soon mixes with pleasure and you and up soaking his fingers more and more. He slips another finger in, you clench immediately.

“Fuuck! Eren oh my go-“

Eren fantasises about the last sentence you just said. “Oh my god” he thinks. He could get used to that one, perhaps even fuck you so good he’d have you call him God or Heavenly Father. Eren smirks. The dark sinister energy is back.

“I-I’m gonna cum”

He instantly pulls his fingers out. “Not on my fingers, bend over”

You bend over, upper body on the altar, legs on the floor now. He lifts you skirt. While he unbuckles his belt, reality hits you. You’re still at the holy church..and you’re on the altar..and the statue. The holy statue is staring right at you. You’re absolutely not going to lose your virginity like this…memories of your past flash back.

“Eren…” you turn back to him. “Wait.”

Eren looks at you with a confused look.

“Did you also forget where we are? Come on let’s go out. We can’t have sex here it’s sacrilege…”

Realisation hits Eren. You are not wearing that religious symbol necklace for the aesthetics, you ARE religious and on top of that you weren’t open to fucking in a church you were just so horny you had completely forgotten about everything else. He puts his hand on your back and refuses to let you get up. This is his dream come true. Corrupting a good little religious girl like you, a virgin one on top of that.

“Hey! Eren get your hand off, we can’t have sex here I’m serious!! I don’t want to lose my virginity like this, it’s sacrilege!!” You glare at him.

Eren doesn’t care he just teases your entrance with his tip. God, you’re leaking all over his tip. Your words end up as incoherent blabber, you unconsciously are trying to push yourself onto his tip to get more of him inside you. But you’re trying to find the inner strength to get up and walk away especially now that his grip loosens up. But no, instead you arch your back against him like a bitch in heat.

He lets go of your back fully and grabs your throat instead, gets closer to your ear and whispers in a husky voice “now that you are done playing games, look up at that beautiful holy statue while I slide into you and take your precious virginity. Don’t look away. Okay??”

“W-why” is all you can get out. How did this sweet guy suddenly become the devil to you. One second ago you thought you’d lose your virginity in any place but here, you thought he was a normal guy. “Who or what are you Eren” is all you are thinking right now.

“I want you to denounce your god, even if it’s just for a while. I’m your new god. Look at the statue as I fuck you, and don’t call me Eren. You can call me God or Heavenly Father..daddy works too. Got that baby? Or should I say lamb now since the lord is apparently your shepherd.” He snickers.

What kind of blasphemy was this devil spitting and why was a part of you enjoying it, your pussy was so wet it was clenching around nothing as his tip was hovering right underneath you, you could feel a heartbeat down there. You didn’t mind losing your virginity before marriage, you weren’t THAT religious but surely this is wrong? This is disrespectful and too much? Your head was getting dizzy..

You’re trying so hard to resist, with eyes shut you’re repeating verses from your holy book in your head right now. “When he came to the place, he said to them, “Pray that you may not enter into the devils sick and twisted temptation.”

Eren lightly slaps your face. “Open your eyes whore, and look at the statue for me.”

Eventually you disappoint your god, your parents and god knows who else… and give into the devils sweet, intoxicating temptation.

You look at the statue, teary eyed but your body is screaming for Erens. Wanting Erens warm skin against yours, wanting him deep inside of you.

He continues holding on to your hair, and slides it in. “Oh FUCK” you cry out. This was way bigger than you’d expected but it fits so perfectly, filling every inch of you. “Oh god” you cry out. You feel that knot in your stomach again but it is nothing like the one you feel when you finger yourself. This is overpowered, like ten times more intense. He stays still inside you for a bit, waiting for you to get comfortable around it and starts to slowly move in and out of you. After a while, you get used to it and you feel like you’re about to explode any minute.

Eren pushes all the candles and other stuff off the altar, and lays you down on it. He gets up, puts your legs behind your ears and pounds you into the altar. You feel so horrible mentally because of this, every time you look up the statue is looking right down on you. But your body feels fucking amazing, you’ve never ever been this wet and you’ve never felt this fantastic. His dick is so good, everyone said the first time hurts but he prepped you so good you genuinely don’t remember any pain.

“Fuck- Eren I’m gonna cum” you whimper.

Eren glares at you. “What did I say baby, you don’t call me Eren now while I fuck you stupid in this church. It’s God, daddy or Heavenly Father..”

It felt so wrong to call Eren God or Heavenly Father, daddy was a bit better.

You took one last look at the statue, then at Eren who was pounding into your pussy balls deep. You sigh. All teary eyed you whimper “please daddy, I’m so close-“

Eren kisses you and plays with your clit, doing everything to make you squirt on his dick. Yes it’s your first time, no he doesn’t care he will make you squirt. He is determined to be your everything, he will fuck you so silly and stupid, he will fuck Gods existence out of your little head. He will do anything to get there.

You finally cum, as you do Eren grabs your hair and looks into your eyes as you’re in total bliss. He keeps thrusting into you and every time he does, your pussy squirts all over again.

“T-thank you” is all you manage to get out.

“Thank you who” he says coldly and not impressed at all.

You know what he wants to hear, it’s not daddy this time. He wants you to you use one of the other names.

“Thank you Heavenly Father” you mumble, embarrassed and full of shame.

“Good girl.” He snickers. He gets so high off your embarrassment but also at the fact that you still do it despite how it feels just for some dick. “If it’s dick she wants I’ll really give it to her, I’ll give her something she will never forget. This is nothing..” he thinks.

You hated calling Eren those names but deep down inside you, the sickly perverted and twisted part of you wanted more, she wanted to beg God to fuck her harder, she wanted to beg the Heavenly Father to forgive her for ever worshipping anyone but him. She’d do anything to cum on his dick again, right now there was nothing in this world that felt better than cumming on his dick…

“Please God, make me cum again” you’re shocked at what you just said. Are you really giving in for some DICK?? Not money, not good extra credits for college but dick. Dick from a guy you officially met yesterday. He really is the devil…how did he get you like this.

Eren gives you a sinister smirk in return. ”whatever baby wants baby gets” he says and fucks you at the most perfect rhythm suddenly. It’s like he knew exactly what you needed but only gave it in exchange for your embarrassment and denouncement of your previous god..Eren you fucking devil.

“I know what you’re thinking y/n, I’m the devil to your previous God huh. But at least this God gives you something in return. When was the last time HE gave you anything you asked for” he says as he points up at the statue.

You feel your pussy clenching again, he feels it too around him.

“You want to cum again baby??” He coos into your ear.

“Yes God” you cry out in reply, feeling so close yet so far away. He won’t give you that last bit of friction to let you cum. Such a tease.

“Then atone for your sins my lamb”

You don’t even care anymore, you’re chasing your high and you’re gonna get it. Fuck it is hell even real? Who cares at this point. You’re so cockdrunk it doesn’t even matter, forgetting every bit of your past and what mother and father taught you, the religion you once were part of is out of the picture.

“Forgive me father for I have sinned, I sinned so gravely. I worshipped a false idol, I was blinded by his false light. Please Heavenly Father forgive me, I am only a mere human. I make mistakes” you almost start crying, you got so serious with your prayer it almost snapped you back to reality where Eren is the actual false idol but he fucks you good and makes you cum instantly after that confession you did, instantly pulling you in again. More cockdrunk than before. He smirks at the statue as you whimper and cry under him, wetting the entire altar.

Your pussy twitches, even as Eren puts his dick out.

“Open your mouth baby, and stick your tongue out” he says.

You open that pretty mouth of yours in an instant, waiting for his next order.

“Look at that statue one last time as I cum on your pretty tongue.” He shoots his cum on your tongue but not all of it, he makes sure to mess around and shoot it on the statue as well.

You were so tired you passed out, he ends up cleaning you up and carrying you out of there. He brings you back to the hotel in time without anyone noticing.

Day three: bad news

You wake up to notifications on your phone, the history trip group chat is blowing up. You look at the texts and it’s all links to articles about the church being ruined, how there’s DNA there but they’re unable to identify who did it because they meddled with it. As if they’re giving a big middle finger to the community. It must be Eren, you think to yourself but you’re not sure how he did it. You give him a call.

Eren: hey y/n.

Y/n: Eren..the news.

Eren: it’s okay y/n, I got us covered. My dad owns a medical company, I’ve been to their lab and they have more than just medicine.

Y/n: what? That’s not even possible. Science is not exactly there yet…

Eren: you clearly don’t know my dad, whatever y/n you need to come down to breakfast. And whatever you do, don’t act all suspect. Also make sure to hide your hickeys.

Y/n: Eren?? What even are we?

Eren: Y/n, come down now. *hangs up*

a/n: I want to punch this fic in the face it’s the fourth time I’m reposting because the tags are breaking rip i can’t with tumblr sorry if something is missing as well I re wrote it in an hour because I accidentally deleted it 🥲🥲 idk if all writers have that one fic that traumatised them but if that’s a thing then THIS IS MINE. Hope you enjoyed it though 🧡

#aot smut #Eren smut #eren x y/n #Eren x reader #Eren Yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #attack on titan smut

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tmntxthings · 2 years

Note

Hiii! ∩^ω^∩ I hope you’re doing goood, may I request a cute sudden make out session during movie night in the lair but it’s comedically interrupted by the rest of the turtles before it gets too far. With rise! Donnie x fem! Shy reader please! -soft anon

Practice ;3

author’s note: so sorry for the wait soft anon <3 I hope this is what you were envisioning

‘[ ]’ indicates Donnie’s lingering thoughts 💭

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, slight cursing

> leo’s < > raph’s < > mikey’s <

—————————————————————————

Donnie made sure the lair was empty that night. For he was a turtle on a mission. The two of you had been dating for a while now. Approximately, two months, one week, five days, seventeen hours, forty nine minutes and counting! And he finally felt like he was ready to take things to a new level. He wanted to kiss you, he had wanted to for a while but never felt comfortable. In the end it came down to a lot of independent research for him to finally feel like he had enough information to at least not do horribly. At least he hoped that was the case, because while he could stuff his brain full of techniques and other data, it wasn’t the same as actual practice. As far as Donnie knew you were both each other’s first but a lingering thought went through his mind. [Has she kissed anyone before?] Surely you would’ve confided to him… Donnie brushed off the thought completely.

And so movie night was a go. You had no idea of his plans. He wanted it to happen naturally even though that was exactly the opposite of what he was doing, planning it down to the t of when the movie would get a tad slow, and he would inch closer if he wasn’t already close enough, and make his move! Easier thought than done. You had announced your arrival just as the popcorn had finished popping. [She’s here!]

“Welcome Y/n! It’ll be just us tonight,” Donnie said as he carried the oversized bowl to the couch. “Well I’d hope so you did say it was a date night,” you teased as you reached for the buttery goodness, humming your appreciation as the two of you got settled on the couch. “What’re we watching?” You quipped as you sat with your feet underneath you. “Our favorite!” Donnie smirked as he clicked play, placing the bowl on the table before you both so it wouldn’t be in his lap. [She’s so beautiful!]

Donnie couldn’t help but take stolen glances your way, you looked stunning as always. Tonight you wore a lovely shade of lilac, it complimented you greatly, he adored you in any shade of his favorite color. You always carried yourself with such feminine grace that you quite frankly knocked Donnie off his feet without you even having to try! But other than that he was mainly stealing looks at your pink lips, how they would purse or pout at certain scenes. Smile or break into a fit of giggles, he thought he was done for whenever you started to nibble on your bottom lip. Donnie was so engrossed that he hadn’t heard you murmur his name. You had caught him staring! “Dee?” you said again. [Gosh she’s so cute..]

Oh Galileo was he embarrassed! “Yeah?” He replied eyes flitting upwards to meet yours as he felt his face burn. “You okay?” You asked, curious as to why he wasn’t watching the movie. “Mhm,” he said turning his face back to the big screen, holding in a sigh. Maybe tonight wasn’t the big night. Maybe he needed to recoup, reconvene, and come up with a better plan, something more full proof. You had been watching Donnie, unbeknownst to him. He was too far gone, deep in his thoughts. Overthinking everything like he does best. When he was mulling over something intently like he was now, his hands would go up absentmindedly and he’d stroke his chin or run his fingers over his mouth. [What if she doesn’t even like kissing?!]

This proved to be very distracting for you, and you found yourself staring shyly at the purple clad turtle until he came out of his reverie and his eyes darted to you. Immediately you turned back to the movie, hoping you hadn’t just been caught. But Donnie had noticed, and this game of shy gazing went back and forth like a volley of tennis before finally you broke. “Donnie?” You said leaning in close to him but facing the tv. “Yeah?” He followed suit, not looking your way but at the tv. “What have you been thinking about?” [Only you sweetheart, you consume my every thought..]

And Donnie sucked in his breath. To tell the truth or to not tell the truth? Honestly Donnie didn’t think you would turn him away, but he just didn’t want to rush things, and he didn’t want to force a kiss either. This was the major dilemma. Would you be upset if he said he had been thinking about kissing you this whole night? He cornered his resolve, “I-“ he turned to face you, eyes cast down to where your hand had inched to press against his leg. As soon as he turned he was immediately unable to speak, because you of all people had decided to take matters into your own hands. You were never this forward but something along the lines of instinct had taken over. To take the initiative and the words right out of his mouth, pressing your lips to his softly. [Donnie’s thoughts going offline]

His eyes widened, and then they closed quickly. He felt you press your lips to his again sweetly, another chaste kiss. Then a third, he found himself holding his breath, all his thoughts and the information he had collected out of the window. “Donnie?” You murmured against his lips, blushing furiously and worried that kissing wasn’t what he had wanted since he still hadn’t moved. His eyes fluttered open, staring back into yours again, before he leaned impossibly closer, initiating this time. Kissing you quickly. But before he could pull back altogether you were moving, closing the distance again and squeezing your eyes shut.

This kiss was longer, and Donnie’s eyes followed suit, he was feeling something short of breathless. Your lips felt heavenly. He felt the need to tell you how inexperienced he was. How if he could just practice with you, he would surely get better. But he kept quiet as the two of you broke away for a quick breather and then came together again, getting closer to one another and Donnie felt you tilt your head to the side allowing for more room, more access. One of his hands went up into your hair, pulling your face closer to his. Your nose brushed his snout as he lost count of how many kisses the two of you shared. “Y/n?” Donnie said, his voice sounding thick, finally questioning if he was doing a good job. “Just like that Donatello,” and his full name coming from your puffy lips was all he needed to hear, and then he remembered something, french kissing! His tongue swiped at your lower lip, asking a silent question. You parted your mouth for him and it was like fireworks went off in his brain as he tentatively explored new territory. [She tastes like the sweetest honey with a hint of popcorn heh]

French kissing was harder to maintain than he thought though, both of you became a breathless mess and had to lean back for air. You were gasping slightly and Donnie was taking deep breaths in. “We’re backkkkkk!” Mikey hollered as he entered the living room. You were scrambling backwards to put some modest distance between you and Donnie, you had practically been in his lap seconds earlier! “I thought you guys were gonna be gone for another hour?!” Donnie exasperated, as Raph walked in behind Mikey. “We were?” Raph said looking confused as he continued to make his way to his room. [Damn!]

Donnie looked at you and then at the tv and found that the credits were somehow rolling?! How long had the two of you been making out?!?! Donnie’s mind was wheeling and he had to refrain from reaching up to touch his lips. You on the other hand already had your lilac hoodie hiked up covering your mouth for good measure. This caused Donnie to shoot you a winsome smirk. “Oh what’s this?? Date night?!” Leo asked, the last to enter the lair. “No wonder you didn’t come to Run of the Mill!” Leo said wagging his nonexistent brows. [She’s acting all cute again hehe..]

Donnie rolled his eyes, if he had been honest with his brothers they all would’ve found a way to stay behind and not go out that night. Especially Leo. “Sooo what’re we watching??” Leo continued on, jumping onto the couch in between Donnie and you, grabbing the forgotten popcorn bowl and bringing it to his lap. “Oh oh oh let’s watch Mr. Right!” Leo said as he threw popcorn up in the air, and caught it with his mouth. “Whaattt noo let’s watch Princess and the Frog, it’s date night,” Mikey quipped as he jumped over the couch and landed on his bean bag chair. “The Notebook!” Raph called out from his room and his stomping footsteps weren’t too far behind. [Date night officially ruined…]

Donnie sighed as he gave you one last lingering glance before scrolling through his options. He couldn’t be bothered to pick something so he went with Mikey’s option who snickered as the rest of his brothers complained. No Donnie had his mind in the clouds and his telltale sign came forward again, his fingers running over his mouth. “Dude you been chewing on your lips?” Leo questioned in a whisper as the movie rolled. Donnie’s eyes widened, “What no??” He said as he grabbed for some popcorn and covered his mouth completely as he chewed. [Shit!]

Leo gave his twin a quizzical glance before turning to look at you who was the picture of guilt! Eyes trained straight ahead, leaning back into the couch as far as possible and hiding not so subtly in your hoodie. Leo connected the dots easily. “Bunch of smoochers~” he teased under his breath which earned him a poke in his side from you and a robotic punch in the arm from one of Donnie’s robo hands. “Ow- alright alright!!! Mercy!!”

Leo was hushed by Mikey and Raph who were none the wiser of what was happening on the couch. Leo grumbled something about couples before finally paying attention to the disney film. Which allowed for Donnie to whip out his phone shooting you a quick text.

‘More practice in my lab? After the movie?’-dee💜

‘I’ll be there 😚’-y/n

The movie couldn’t end fast enough!

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tsukkismoonlight · 6 months

Text

When It Comes To You || J.K × Reader

Summary: You've somehow gotten stuck with the most obnoxious (Minus boy genius Armin Arlert) group ever for a college class project. Eren Jeager, and Jean Kirstein. The latter of which seems to find a way to weasel his way into your life, making your plans for a quiet college experience fall away.

Author's Note: okay, like a year and some odd change in months later i'm finally posting this fic!! Honestly life kinda got in the way but we all know how it is. Anywayyyys, I hope yall enjoy! This is my first longer fic, so let me know what you guys think! Also super big shoutout to my buddies on discord for beta reading the first portion of this! <3 wk: 16.7k

Warnings: unedited, probably ooc characteristics who knows

"Would you two knock it off?" were your first words since the two bone-headed, annoying, loud-mouthed boys had started arguing.

Here you were, in an empty classroom, supposed to be working on a group project for at least an hour or two, and the /only/ thing that your group had done was bicker back and forth.

The first of the two boneheads, Eren Jeager, had spent the whole time insisting on his ideas, and his ideas alone, while the other, Jean Kirstein, had only been arguing that the former's ideas were stupid and that 'if anything, Eren should shut his trap and just do the grunt work.'

The blonde, Armin Arlert, was clearly just as done with them, but took a more quiet approach to trying to stop them. Any time he could interject, he tried to reason with the two, but of course neither would listen.

So, when you stood up, slamming your palms onto the table and shouting at them, all three of them quickly grew quiet. "We only have so much time to work on this project, and I am /not/ going to fail this project because you two idiots can't let go of your egos for more than two seconds!"

"Well, maybe if this asshole would-" Eren started, mostly keeping his voice at a low grumble, sounding like a scolded child.

Jean, cutting Eren's words short while crossing his arms across his chest, "Oh yeah, /I'm/ the asshole here…"

But with another of your glares sent to both of them, the two stopped once more.

"Maybe we should split up the work?" Armin was already writing out two plans, where you could make out his name and Eren, meaning that you were stuck with Jean.

Not that you wanted to be with either of them. You'd rather take Armin and just leave the other two to fail. But, as this was a group project, Professor Hange had made it clear that points were to be docked for any group that did not complete the assignment together.

You plopped back into your seat, sighing heavily. "Okay, we will work in two groups. Looks like Eren, you're going with Armin, and Jean, you're with me." You paused as Armin slid over the paper he had drafted up.

Glancing over it, you could see that he had given you and Jean a good amount of work, yet he had still given himself more. Part of you wanted to point it out, maybe even offer to take some of the load, but the other part of you knew that Armin would refuse and somehow make it sound like the nicest thing he'd ever do.

"Okay, so, from there, once all the research is done, Armin and I will meet up in person to work on the presentation bits, which means that Eren and Jean, you will only need to put your findings in a document for us. That should be easy enough."

When no one objected, you started to pack up your things.You waited for Jean to take a picture of the draft before tucking it away in a folder carefully.

Around you, the others started to do the same. With a small breath of relief, you finished packing up and slung your bag over your shoulders, looking to each of your groupmates slowly. "If anyone has questions,” you announced, “please text me. I gave Armin my number already, but if you need mine, ask now."

Eren slid his phone across the table to you, a sour look on his face, as he was clearly upset with the whole situation, and the fact that he had been yelled at over it. You ignored his attitude and typed in your number before returning the phone to him.

Next was Jean, who looked at you for a few moments, then handed his phone over to you, where you repeated the process of saving your number for him.

With that done you set off to your dorm.You didn't live alone, but it was bound to be a wonderful change in pace (and in volume levels). When you arrived, you slipped your shoes off and headed for your room, pausing for a second as you saw one of your roommate and probably your closest friend Sasha Braus. Currently she was sitting on the floor of her room, clutching a bowl of soup…or what was probably a bowl of soup, as it was empty now.

"Oh, hey! You're back already?" she asked, turning to you with a spoon dangling from her mouth. It caused a slight slur in her words, so it came out more like, "Ohhh, heyyy, yer bick alreaty?"

With a sigh, you walked into her room, dropping your bag by the door before flopping onto her bed (which was incredibly comfortable). "Yeah, I called it quits early because I got paired with Armin, Jean, and Eren, and Armin is fine and all, but your stupid friend and Eren can't go more than five seconds without fighting."

You could hear a soft clink as Sasha put her spoon down. "Well, it always works for me to hit them."

"I can't hit my group mates…even if I want to," you grumbled, rolling over onto your side so you could see her.

"I can hit them for you then, just tell me when and where." She flexed her arms, raising her eyebrows up and down at you as she did so.

This caused a breathy laugh to come from you. You could feel yourself starting to relax. Your two roommates were probably the only reason that you had stayed sane so far.

Sasha was always good at getting you to smile, at times she wouldn't stop until you showed some sign of positivity. And of course you were more than grateful for it.

When you had first moved to the dorms, you had kept to yourself, unsure if you really liked her at all. But with time, you warmed up to her easily.

There had been a handful of nights where she would invite you to stay up and just talk, or watch some movie. And, at times, she would share food with you, which you learned wasn't always her favorite thing to do.

"Hey, one of these days we need to catch up on Food wars."

You looked back to her, nodding along, "Oh for sure! Maybe sometime this next week I can stay up with you and we can watch it. Maybe buy some junk food too."

At the prospect of snacks, she perked up even more. "Can we get-"

"Yes, we can get the baked potato flavored chips."

"You didn't even let me finish!" Sasha pouted a little, though still unable to hide her excitement at the confirmation of her favorite snack.

You reached down and flicked her forehead lightly, "Well I already knew what you were going to say. It wasn't hard to figure out."

"Hey! I could have asked for something different! Like, salt and vinegar ones!"

"You don't even like those, and neither do I. We wouldn't ever buy any."

The two of you talked for another five or so minutes until she had to leave, shouting something about Connie Springer owing her dinner. You took the time to go back into your own room which you actually shared with a third roommate ( neither of you wanted to share a room with Sasha because of her snoring). However, he wasn't home yet, which meant that he'd probably be back late.

You pulled your laptop out of your bag and plugged it in; then you went to grab your notebooks, some pens and pencils, and finally your copy of the book for your project. It was best to get a headstart on the project, as it was worth most of your grade.

Professor Hange had assigned the class to read and analyze an old book written by a nameless author. The idea and plot was interesting to a point. It was a war between mere humans, and a race of humans that could take control of what they called titans. The main two parties at war were named Marley and Eldia, both of which claimed that the other was in the wrong, and had vowed to take revenge, wanting to eradicate the other's existence. Towards the end, there was something of a compromise, and Marley seemed to come out victorious. All in all, there was a lot more to it, and the details were typically gorey and morally wrong. The ending wasn't ever written, leaving all readers to question what they knew and what they may not have been told.

This is where your project came in: you were to try and look into the book, outside sources, even artwork, whatever the class could get their hands on, and work on an analysis. Hange hadn't given many guidelines; they wanted to leave it open and see what the class would come up with. Your group hadn't made a decision yet, but so far, Eren was dead set on writing an analysis on who he thought was right and freedom and some other crap, while Jean only had talked about how Eren was wrong.

Luckily enough, Armin had already written up a potential analysis summary, one that focused on how the two sides were similar and what they shared in common with the rest of humanity, and how trying to pick a side would only allow their bloody history to repeat again. His was rather long winded, but it allowed for you to pick and choose the best parts, and what you guys wouldn't really need.

You spent some time searching the internet for more sources, coming across a few articles on what could be a deeper meaning to the story, and a few on what could have been the rest of the world's view on both Marley and Eldia.

That was when you came across a page for the local museum; it seemed that there was going to be an exhibit about the book, featuring many different artists and even some written works. Taking a moment to write down the dates and price for tickets in your phone’s note app. You then sent a quick text to Armin about it, letting him know that if he wanted, you could go and check it out with Jean.

Clicking your phone off, you gave a heavy sigh and stood up, pulling your arms above your head in a stretch before continuing to work on the project. You knew that you should probably eat something, and drink some water, as you hadn’t really been able to do so in the last few hours. But with the project being so important, you decided against getting back up. If you got up now, chances were that you’d end up wasting some time doing who knows what. You really needed to just focus on your work, food, water and relaxing could come later. This was typical for you, what was one more time anyways?

Quietly, your afternoon quickly turned to night, and you wouldn't have noticed if it weren't for both of your roommates crashing into your room.

You turned around, eyeballing Sasha and your third roommate, Marco Bodt, unsure if you really wanted to ask questions.

"She was drinking with Connie at his place,"

"Huh? Noo I waz'nt ! Conn and I were jus playin a game an' then…and then..mmkay maybe I was drinking, but!" Sasha rambles on for a minute, still leaning heavily on Marco, who just gave a half hearted and weary smile.

You shook your head, and stood up, making your way over to Sasha taking her off Marco's hands "Was Connie like this too?" you asked.

"Yeah, he and Jean both…" Marco sighed, following you as you took Sasha to her room. While you carefully put her in her bed, Marco pulled her shoes off for her.

At his words, you paused for just a moment then you continued to fish Sasha's phone from her pocket, placing it on the charger for her.

"Of course, Jean was drinking, too." you remarked. You tried your best to ignore the irritation rising in you. It wasn't like you guys had to get the whole project done right away, or that Jean couldn't enjoy a drink with his friends. But, it wouldn't surprise you if only Armin and yourself had been the only two to even start.

As the two of you left Sasha to sleep, Marco motioned to the kitchen, saying, "Hungry?" You gave a small nod in response.

Once in the small kitchen area, you hopped onto the counter while your roommate got to work on making something simple. From the looks of it, he was just making mac and cheese, but you couldn't really care less. You hadn't noticed it earlier, but you were actually starving.

A quiet buzz from your pocket pulled your attention from Marco cooking, and you pulled your phone out, seeing a few messages from an unsaved number.

"Heyy, it's me"

"Jean"

"just figured i'd text you since we have be partners"

"Not complaining cause i dont wanna be stuck with eren"

You shook your head at your phone, typing a quick reply back, “Wow really? I couldn’t tell.”

Another buzz, another incoming message, “I really hate that guy. He’s stuck up, and always thinks he’s right”

“You know, I feel like there’s someone else like that too.” You sucked in a deep breath, already feeling a tinge of annoyance creeping its way into your body. Sure, Jean was bound to be the better of the two, but that didn’t mean that you wanted him texting you about his testosterone fueled hatred for Eren.

A few moments pass before he texts you again, the words a little hard to make out at first, “you better not be implying that im like him”

“I would never do that. You are an okay person in my eyes”

“Just okay? I’m fuckin’ great!”

“Yeahh, sure. I agree with you, 100%”

You could almost feel his skeptical gaze through your phone as he sent yet another message, “I dont know if I believe that.”

“I dont care if you believe it or not tbh”

“I cant tell if you like me or not”

At this, you paused. You didn’t really know the guy outside of what you were told by Marco and Sasha. And he definitely did not know you. If he did, he wouldn’t be bothering you right now. But as much as that all was true, you also didn’t want to outright say that you didn’t like him, at least not over text while he was suspiciously hitting you up out of the blue.

“im not sure if like is the right word. Right now I tolerate you.”

“Thats a good thing right?”

You didn’t answer, figuring that he would eventually get the hint. But, within minutes, he was texting you yet again. You watched as more messages popped up one by one, all of which just as hard to read as the others. Though you eventually figured them out. He was promising to do his share of the project, as well as promising to keep on schedule with it. The last thing he sent was asking to meet up tomorrow, and figure out what you wanted him to do, and something about how he couldn't really understand the guideline sheet.

You sent a quick reply, just a place and a time, before returning your phone to your pocket, and just in time, Marco had a bowl of delicious mac and cheese for you.

"Thanks man, you're the best."

"Hey, you cooked last night," he said, shrugging, "and somehow it was pretty impressive, given the fact that we're all super broke and have next to nothing in our cupboards,"

You let out a small laugh at that. "I am a person of many talents."

"Do tell your secrets, as I am eager to know," Marco says in-between bites, playing into the bit.

"Oh, I couldn't, because then you would have to learn my /tragic/ backstory of how I had to fend for myself as a child." You dramatically sigh, placing a hand to your forehead, and then paused, peeking out at Marco before saying, "That part is actually true. At my house, we often had 'Fend for Yourself Nights' where you kinda just threw stuff together it could be leftovers, cereal or, like, dry ramen."

Marco chuckles, pointing his fork at you and saying "So that must be the secret then!"

The kitchen rendezvous went on for a while longer before you both headed off to bed, agreeing that Sasha can do the dishes when she wakes up.

The next day, you had managed to drag yourself out of bed and find your way to the coffee shop where you were supposed to be meeting up with Jean.

Key word is 'supposed' to be, since it had been 30 minutes since you had gotten there. Hopefully, you didn't look like some poor soul that had gotten stood up on a date and more like someone enjoying their Saturday morning.

Another ten minutes passed, and no word from Jean, you had finished your coffee, and had already finished working on pulling out key information from a few of the web sources that you found the night before.

You glanced at the time again and cursed under your breath. You had better things to be doing. So, you quickly pack up your things and toss out the trash before leaving.

Just as you returned to the little table to grab your bag, the bell at the door chimed, drawing your attention.

There stood Jean Kirstein himself, out of breath, hair hastily brushed out of his face, and clothes a whole mess…you were pretty sure he had worn them yesterday too.

However, his sudden entrance had also gathered stares from everyone in the shop;most people looked on with a frown, questioning why he had just thrown open the door like that, just to stand there looking like a lost puppy.

You groaned, marching towards him and then grabbing his wrist and dragging him out of the way.

"Seriously? You show up almost an hour late, and make a big scene?!" you say, continuing to pull him down the sidewalk.

"I know, I know!" He took in a sharp breath, stumbling as he went.

"I mean seriously?! What's your deal?"

"I didn't mean to be late! And can you stop shouting? My head is killing me…"

You came to an abrupt stop and turned around to face him. "It doesn't matter if you didn't mean to be late, you were still late! I mean, come on, I sat there and looked completely stupid while I waited!"

At your words, he tugged his arm free from your grasp, and hesitated for a moment before, saying, "Okay, I'm sorry. I should have been here on time."

"Or at least texted me to tell me!" You sighed, bringing a hand up to your temple. "Whatever, let's just find somewhere else to sit and I can show you what your part of the project is."

With those words, the two of you walked in silence until you were back at campus, arriving at one of the rooms designated for studying. It didn't take long to run through Jean's responsibilities, and for you both to settle into a somewhat uncomfortable quiet and begin to work.

Currently, you were taking the information gathered earlier and writing them into evidence for your thesis while Jean was searching for art pieces to analyze.

Every fifteen to twenty minutes or so, you'd check in with eachother and help if needed-and Jean needed more help than you did, really.

And maybe if he hadn’t spammed you with drunk texts the night before, and then came late to your meeting, it wouldnt have bothered you as much. So when he did ask for your help, you were being short and to the point. Luckily for you, helping him was easy. It consisted of choosing between artwork, and identifying key themes or details that stood out, and then giving him ways to write it down so that it made sense with the overall idea behind your project. Now and then, you'd have him read over what you wrote, just to see what all he thought and if he had any suggestions.

Finally, after a few hours, Jean leaned back in his chair and sighed loudly. "Okay, I think we've got a lot done. Why don't we break for the day?" he suggested.

At his words, you hesitated. While a break did sound nice, you'd much rather keep working. If you got ahead, there'd be time for breaks later, or time for helping Armin and the others.

"You go on ahead, I'm going to stay a little longer. Thanks for showing up today." You gave a small smile before looking back down to your laptop, trying to spot where you left off.

For a moment or so, Jean packed up his things, not necessarily quietly, but enough for it not to bother you. Though, after he finished doing so, he didn't leave. Instead, he stood /annoyingly/ close to you, seemingly trying to burn holes into the back of your head.

"Is there something you need or…?"

"You're seriously going to stay and work more?"

"...Yeah?"

Jean let out a small series of 'tsk' noises and began to close your notebooks and the few textbooks you had brought. You stuttered out half of a sentence, none of it making any sense, as you watched him stack up your things, his finishing move to carefully close your laptop without even shutting it off.

"What are you…Why…I mean-what?"

"I think you work too hard." he remarked, grinning. Normally that would sound snarky coming from him, this time he sounded gentle, and nothing in his face seemed to show any ill will. "I mean, I've never seen you do anything fun. All you do is push yourself to do work."

You were at a loss for words, face heating up with embarrassment. Just because he had never seen you do fun things didn't mean that you were some sort of shut in who only ever focused on homework and studying.

Jean waited for you to pack your things, all of which you did while in a small haze, trying to comprehend it all. When you were done, he motioned for you to follow him, not saying a word of what he had planned.

The two of you walked outside, Jean slightly ahead of you as he continued to lead the way. Occasionally, someone would stop Jean, asking him about a party or a class. He seemed to have a lot of friends, or rather just a lot of acquaintances.

Eventually, you both came to a little grassy field, one where students often came to waste time, or play games like spikeball, or frisbee. Currently, it wasn't very busy, and the two of you found a spot to sit and relax under a warm spring sky.

For the first five minutes, you sat in silence, an almost comfortable one. You found yourself mumbling about how this wasn't so bad, noticing from the corner of your eye as Jean turned to look at you.

"Would I ever lead you astray?" Jean elbowed you carefully, earning a scowl from you.

"Given that we don't really know each other, I'm not sure," you retorted.

"I know that we've had at least three classes together since freshman year, and that you don't seem to like anyone," he pointed out.

"Not true,” you said. “Sasha and Marco are very nice people who I like a lot,"

At this he barked out a laugh, a wonderful sound really, compared to his typical evil sounding snicker. "Okay, so you appreciate the presence of three specific people."

"Three? I only named two people," you said, holding up two fingers to signify your only two friends.

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but right now you don't seem to hate me, so I counted myself."

You gave another scowl."If we were able to pick our own groups, I would have picked other people, just for the record"

"Ouch, that kind of stings."

You couldn't tell if he was serious or not, but one thing you did know was that he probably wouldn't have picked you either. Not that it really bothered you. While it was true that you've shared classes in the two years that you've been in college, the two of you never really talked.

Sure, you've had the quick conversations in the hall, or maybe accidentally bumped into each other when trying to take Sasha home, or even just when Jean would hang out with Marco at your dorm.

It wasn't that you didn't like him (aside from his huge ego and inability to get along with certain people) or even that you didn't like people in general. You honestly just wanted to focus on school, so that you would graduate on time, and get the hell out of this town. Personal relationships could come later, and you were completely content with that. Being alone wasn't something that bothered you. Or, something that you /let/ bother you.

You leaned back until you were laying down in the grass, staring up at the cloudy sky. The more you thought about it, the more your head seemed to churn with an anxious and maybe even guilty conscience.

"By the way, I'd say that, even though we didn't get to pick our own groups, I don't mind being paired with you." You sighed, keeping your eyes trained on the sky as Jean laid down next to you.

From there, the conversation switched to a few different topics, one of them being a small argument over the particular shape of a cloud and what you thought it was.

Eventually, the clouds dissipated, and the sky faded from its blue to a dusty orange lined with a pale pink-ish-purple.

"I guess it's time to go home for the night," Jean said.

"Mhm, guess so," you quietly said, but made no effort to sit up yet.

Next to you, Jean stood, brushing off his clothes and running a hand through his hair, attempting to make sure there wasn't any grass on his person. Then, when it was apparent that you still hadn't even moved, he nudged you with his shoe. "You coming or what?"

"I’m waiting,"

"For what?"

"The first star I see"

Jean slowly looked away from you and to the sky, "Can I ask why?"

"No."

It wasn't really a big deal, but this was your favorite time of the day, and you had the habit of looking for the first star you could find and making a small wish on it. It had been something you'd done ever since you were a kid; old habits die hard. But it wasn't something you just went and told people about, especially not someone like Jean. You were sure that he'd poke fun at you for it.

His voice pulled you away from your thoughts, and you watched as he pointed just above your heads. "I think there's one over there."

From your perspective, he was lined up to where the star was atop his finger.The sight made you smile softly; you didn’t notice that he had glanced back down, watching the small moment.

"Okay, now we can go." You sat up slowly and climbed to your feet, grabbing your bag from where it had been by your feet.

The two of you parted ways for the night, and you found yourself back at your dorm, which was uncharacteristically empty and quiet. Either Sasha would come home drunk again (or with her hands full of food that she got from Connie or that Niccolo guy) or that she would stay out for the night. Marco on the other hand, was probably visiting some other friends for the short weekend, so most likely, you had the place to yourself until the following evening.

With the freedom at hand, you took some time to make dinner and lounged around the shared living space, until eventually, your eyelids grew heavy, and you forced yourself into your bed for the night.

The sound of knocking at your door woke you up. At first, you had half a mind to ignore it, but with your roommates, and the friends they had, the knocking wouldn't stop. You glanced at the clock, seeing that it was around noon, a time that you hardly ever slept in till.

"Yeah, okay, I'm up. Who is it?" you grumbled at the door, noting that if it was Marco, he wouldn't necessarily need to knock, meaning that it must be Sasha.

And it was. At your words, she swung the door open lazily, and leaned around the corner, "Heyyy, I was wondering if you had plans today? Connie, Jean, and I were going to play some volleyball! Wanna come? Marco is gonna join us later!"

You took a moment to think it over. It was Sunday, so you didn't have classes, and depending on how long you were out, you could always do more homework later. Not to mention, Jean's comment about how you worked too much was still fresh in your mind.

"...Yeah, okay, I'll come play. Give me a few minutes and I'll get dressed."

She gave you a huge grin, shouting over her shoulder, "They said they'd come! You guys still have the net?"

You watched as she disappeared back into the main area of the dorm, and then shut your door to change. When you exited, you could see the three of them waiting by the door, Jean holding the net, while Connie was tossing the ball between his hands.

The walk was fairly short, as Jean had suggested the field that the two of you had been at the other day, and just like the day before, there weren't very many people out. You guys could set up a spot without having to worry about anyone else.

At least, that's how it was at first. The game went smoothly. Surprisingly, all three of them were pretty good at the sport; though, if you had to rank them, it would be Sasha, then Jean (mostly because he can use his height to his advantage), and then Connie.

For the first game you played, it was you and Sasha versus Jean and Connie. Then, it switched to you and Connie, and finally, you and Jean.

No one was really counting points; no one could keep track, though each side was sure that they were winning, even if they weren't. It was about halfway through the current match, right as you were about to serve, when something came crashing into your head.

It had hit you pretty hard, and it took you a moment to even realize what had happened and what was currently happening.

"Hey, man, watch where you throw this thing! You nearly took my partner out!" Jean was holding a football and pointing it aggressively at another college student, who you think was named Floch or something close to it.

The guy snatched the ball from Jean, giving him the dirtiest look. "Well, maybe you guys shouldn't be playing so close to where we are."

At this, Connie and Sasha stepped up. Connie took to Jean's side, starting to bicker with the guy, while Sasha checked your head, fussing over you.

"Just say sorry to our friend already. You can at least agree that you hit them!" You weren't sure who said that, as all the voices blended together until that moment. Suddenly all eyes were on you.

More specifically, Floch's eyes. He regarded you warily, annoyance clear in his eyes and voice. "Your dumbass friend looks fine to me,” he sneered. “And besides, we tried to warn them, and they didn't move. It's their own fault. Don't go blaming me for your friend being an idiot."

You weren't sure what came over you; maybe it was anger from the childish name calling, or maybe it was the stress of the week getting to you, but within an instant, you had crossed the few feet to get to him, and threw a punch.

You watched as he stumbled back, nearly running into one of his nameless friends, as he clutched at his face. He was clearly seeing red.

"How dare you!" he shouted out. He started to make his way over to you, obscenities of all sorts falling from his mouth.

None of which you really heard, because at that exact moment, Sasha and Connie both shouted the same thing, 'Run,' and took off.

And, before you knew it, Jean grabbed your hand, pulling you along as he chased after the two, until you four were sure that Floch and his extras weren't going to follow you.

When you finally stopped, everyone was bent over, stuck in between laughing and gasping for air.

"Holy shit! That was insane!" Sasha wheezed out, and straightened out, turning to the group with a large smile on her face.

Connie spoke next, hands still on his knees. "I can't believe we ran away."

All at once, realization hit you: you had just clocked a guy, and then ran away, without even thinking twice. Never in your life had you done something like that. You weren't super confrontational, and you certainly would rather avoid physical altercations. But, at that moment, you had just done it. And, the crazy thing about it was how amusing you found it. Because even though you were struggling to breathe, you were laughing. The kind of laugh where you couldn't stop, and your eyes would start to tear up.

From where he was standing at your side, Jean watched for a moment, a certain fluttering in his chest (though he could pass it off as his own endeavors with taking in air). You, for the first time that he had seen, were so laid back about the fact that you had hit someone. And the way that you were now chuckling to yourself, clearly in a sort of disbelief mixed with content.

Jean drew your attention, "Is it bad that I kind of liked seeing you hit him?" Then he paused, as if he had rethought his choice of words. "I mean, in the sense that Floch is a stuck up, entitled bastard, and that he had it coming."

You gave a little huff, and shrugged. "Well, I'm sure anyone would pay to see that…I honestly didn't know that I was going to hit him…until right after."

"Well, that was amazing! That guy's been a tyrant since the beginning of the year! He even tries to get in with Eren's group, as if he was even worth being someone to talk to." Connie clapped a hand on your back, his adrenaline still running through him.

"And I thought that Jean was the one to start fights," Sasha teased.

"Sasha! I don't start fights!"

Around you, the three continued to talk while you watched, enjoying the sight.

It was rather nice, for once. You weren't holed up in your dorm room while everyone else had fun, even if the fun was getting into a fight of sorts—which, as you thought back on it, the whole thing was kind of funny. It would have easily been solved if those assholes had just apologized, but you were starting to think that this outcome was better.

“Hey, should we go back for our things?” Jean asked, pulling your attention to him.

“Yeah, probably, and if those assholes are still there, I think we know someone who can take them on for us.” Connie sent a lopsided grin your way, a certain mischievous look in his eyes.

You shrugged, acting as innocent as possible. “Oh yeah, you’d be the perfect guy for that, even with the serious height disadvantage.”

Connie’s mouth dropped open, not quite expecting that kind of remark from you. As far as he knew, you were silent, hardworking, and the person who likes to keep to yourself. Even you were a little surprised, but, maybe after today’s events you could try out some new ways to enjoy your life a little more.

Once again, the four of you made your way back to the field, and as you did, you could see a familiar figure standing by your net, looking down at his phone.

“Marco! You made it!” Connie shouted out, drawing your friend’s attention. “You missed all the action; it was insane!”

“Huh? Did I miss out on playing? And where were you guys?”

As you approached, Sasha and Connie exploded into answers for his question.

“You only missed a little of our game-”

“We had to run from Forrester and his braindead lackeys!”

“We’ve got our own Rocky! You should have seen the way they punched him! No hesitation at all!”

Slowly, Marco seemed to piece all of the information together, nodding as he thought it all over. His eyes looked at everyone one by one until he got to you. “You punched someone? The most I've ever seen from you was the time you swore at your computer when it crashed!”

A small and almost shy smile escaped you, “Well, to be fair he started it. I honestly didn’t even think about doing it; my hand moved on it’s own,”

He only shook his head, looking back around the group. “So, are we still playing?”

Jean shook his head. “Maybe we should head back to one of the dorms? Relax or play some games?”

“Oh! I’ve got some fun games!” Sasha chimed in, then paused. “But I’m kind of hungry, so maybe we could make some food, too!”

Once everyone agreed to the plan, the now five of you ended up in the dorm you shared with Marco and Sasha, where Connie, Sasha and Marco focused on setting up some games in the little living room area, and you and Jean were tasked with making some dinner. Of course, it wasn’t exactly easy, given the few options, but eventually, the two of you were able to settle on a college delicacy: instant ramen.

You pulled out a pot to fill with water, while Jean opened a few packs of said ramen. All in all, it was easy to make, and didn’t take terribly long. Before you knew it, you were handing out bowls to the other three while Jean brought over yours and his to where you were now sitting on the floor, some game cards in front of you.

“Okay, listen up, I’m not explaining this twice,” Connie announced. “The game is simple: read a card to yourself and then say someones name who you think matches the card. You flip a coin. If it’s heads, you tell everyone what was on the card and give that person the card. If it’s tails, you keep it to yourself, and the card is yours.” Connie gave everyone a pointed look, and when no questions or objections were raised, the game started.

The first to go is Marco; he took a moment to read his card before immediately calling out Connie’s name. Then when the coin was flipped, it landed on heads, earning a small sigh from Marco.

“It asked who would be the one to need parental supervision no matter what age someone is,” Marco explained.

“What? Why not Sasha?! She gets into more trouble than I do!”

“Hah! Say that to Professor Levi and all the times he has had to tell you to shut up,” Jean remarked “And not to mention you black out at every party you go to. Do you know how many times I have to carry you home while you sing at the top of your lungs?”

Connie grumbled a bit, but didn’t try to deny the claims. Instead, he pulled out a card to read. His turn ended with a flip of tails, making it now your turn.

From the main deck, you pulled your card and read it over silently: ‘Out of everyone in the group, who would you rather make out with?’

You can feel your face heat up, already knowing that you only really have two options, Jean or Marco. And Marco is only really a choice because of how well you know him, but even then, you wouldn’t really want to do that with him. So after a few moments of silence, you call Jean’s name, looking anywhere but at his face.

“That took you some time; must be a good card.” Sasha grinned, reaching for the coin and giving it an impressive flip. Everyone seemed to hold their breath as it landed, and all at once, five heads stuck together to see the outcome.

Heads. The worst possible way for things to go. You could feel all eyes on you now, and you begrudgingly read out the card, once again avoiding looking at Jean entirely.

A chorus of ooo’s and ahh’s filled your ears, and everyone had something to say about your answer.

The only one you even managed to hear was the man himself: “I hope you plan to take me out first, I’m not won over so easily." Of course, he had a cocky smirk on his face, pointed directly at you.

“Whatever, just…whoever is next, take your turn.” You shook your head, busying yourself with eating some of your food that was now starting to get a little cold.

Time seemed to escape you all and the night drew to a close with Connie and Jean taking their leave. Marco took the time to wash the dishes, roping Sasha into helping, and you retired to your room. You took the time to change into some comfier clothes and settle into your bed, though not quite wanting to sleep just yet.

Your mind was still stuck on the first game you played and the card you had picked Jean for. While you wouldn’t argue against the idea of finding Jean attractive, or even the idea of kissing him, you just weren’t sure why you were so trapped in thinking about it. You didn��t even know him all that well, and for the most part, you had thought that he was pretty unbearable.

And yet, the more your thoughts seemed to revolve around him, the more you could feel an uneasy knot forming in your stomach. There was no way that you were going to let yourself get wrapped up in developing feelings for him, or anyone. You were supposed to be focusing on school so that you could get the hell out of this town and make something of yourself.

Not to mention the fact that all of your previous attempts at relationships crashed and burned. The last time that you had gotten close with someone in that way, you ended up with a mixture of being heartbroken and incredibly angry. That was about the time you started keeping to yourself, as if getting to know someone in a more than platonic way would cause your world to shatter again. You couldn’t-no /wouldn’t/ deal with something like that again.

You let out a groan, planting face first into your pillow and trying to shoo away all thoughts related to romance and feelings, and of Jean Kirstein.

“Suffocating yourself?”

You jumped lightly, head snapping up to see Marco in the doorway, leaning against the door frame. His expression was a little hard to read, though he could be like that at times.

“Uh…no, not quite what I’m going for, but if it gets the job done, then sure,” you joked.

He moved across the room to his own bed where he took a seat, facing you. “Then what’s with the face-in-pillow tactic?”

You hesitated, knowing full and well how close Marco was with Jean, closer than he was with you. “Oh, uh, just, school things, homework, assignments, that sort of thing…”

His eyes narrowed slightly, brows furrowing. “Yeah, for once I don’t buy that, but if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t force you to spill the details."

Again, you paused, turning away from Marco and looking towards the door. In truth, it wouldn’t hurt to tell him, since he wouldn’t ever tell a secret that wasn’t his. He was definitely the guy who would just want to talk things out, not wanting things to end badly.

“Okay…Well…that card I got earlier,” you began. “I’m just worried, and I know that it’s just a stupid game, but I cant help but think about it.”

“Worried that Jean took it the wrong way, or worried that you’d actually want to kiss him?”

Marco was somehow always hitting the nail on the head, a talent of his.

“Would saying both make sense?”

He thought for a moment, the room filling with an unnamable silence, until he spoke again. “Well, I’m sure Jean is going to take it in the way he always does: an ego boost for his way too big head.” Another pause. “As for the idea of maybe wanting to kiss him, I wouldn’t say that's an all too terrible idea, besides the fact that it’s Jean. But, if you really aren't sure about how you feel towards him, maybe you could…test it out?"

“Test it out?” you repeated, confused.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Like ask him to hang out or something. You don’t have to necessarily make it like a date, but you could use the time to get to know him more, and figure out if it’s just because everyone made a big deal out of it, or if you might actually be interested in him, or getting to know him.”

You thought for a moment. The idea was pretty simple, and a good one at that, though just thinking about it made your heart rate speed up. It wasn’t like you had never been one on one with Jean, but now, with all of your thoughts being scrambled like eggs, it was slightly overwhelming. But when it came down to it, you wanted to sort it all out. If you could set your mind straight, and get rid of these terrible thoughts about Jean, you could get back on track for school.

“You’re right, I’ll definitely try that.” You let out a small breath of air and turned back to Marco. “Thanks, I’m glad you’re here.”

“What would you do without me? And don’t worry— I won’t say anything to anyone. my lips are sealed” He smiled, hand coming up to his mouth to mime a zipper motion.

“Okay, good. Unless you want to end up like the douche from earlier, I wouldn’t recommend telling a soul.”

He gave a laugh before gathering some of his things to go and take a shower, leaving you alone once more. You eventually drifted off to sleep, and surprisingly, you didn’t wake up once.

The next day, you only had one class, and once that was over, you had gone to the library to study, needing to get work done for a few of your other classes. It was a nice change in pace from the day you had yesterday. It wasn’t super crowded, either, which meant you could focus on your work in peace.

Though, it didn’t last long, as two new faces joined your table. You looked up, almost expecting to see Jean and Connie, or Marco and Sasha, but to your surprise, it was Eren and Armin.

“I hope you don’t mind us joining you!” Armin smiles, though something in his eyes tells you that he didn’t pick your table without a reason.

“Uh, no that’s okay.”

He and Eren settled into two of the chairs, the latter of the two only pulling out his phone. Armin did the exact opposite. He took out two textbooks, a large notebook, and a handful of pens, pencils and markers.

For the first five minutes or so, the three of you sat in silence. You worked on homework for a communications class, while armin was seemingly working on a paper for a psyche class. But when Eren suddenly scoffed at his phone, you stopped what you were doing to look up at him, questioning his action.

He in turn looked at you, maybe even through you. “So, turns out, someone gave Forrester a nasty bruise yesterday. He wont say who, so i’m thinking he got his ass kicked and just doesn’t want to admit it.”

You feigned ignorance, giving Eren a blank stare, “I’m not really sure who that is, but sounds like a tough time for him.”

Eren regarded you for a moment, but it wasn’t his stare that bothered you. You now had Armin’s attention, as if he wanted to ask a question. Or, make a comment on what you said. But instead he said, “Well, I’m not the one to really get into these things, but Floch does like to cause problems for himself, so maybe he deserved it?”

You nodded along, not wanting to give Eren any more information. With him, rumors tended to get out of hand quickly, and you really did not want to be the talk of the school over an altercation with Floch. To everyone in the school, you were pretty much some nobody, and frankly, you weren’t upset at the idea. If it meant less trouble for you, it was going to be something you’d stay okay with.

“Well he’s been bitching about it all day. It’s starting to get on my nerves.” Eren flipped his phone over, leaning back in his chair as he did.

“Does he expect you to do something about it?” You asked, still trying to keep a low profile, while also trying to pry more information out of him.

“I’m sure thats what he wants, but I’m not going to help him with that, Floch can fight his own battles.”

A thick silence descended over your table. You took it as a sign that you could continue working on your homework. The one for your comms class wasn’t due until tomorrow, but you really wanted to finish it.

This had always really been how you did things. You tried to finish things early, study as soon as possible, take as much time to get your work done as possible. And you weren’t the only one. Armin had also gone back to his work, and though you weren’t sure when it was due for him, but it wouldn’t be surprising if it was due at the end of the week or so.

You weren’t all that close with Armin, but the two of you had taken the time to study with eachother for the one class that you did share, and you had even reached out once to ask if he would tutor you for a few sessions, needing help with your math at the time. It was a nice thought to know that you weren’t the only student to stray from the eyes of their peers.

Though he had a harder time with it, being best friends with Eren and all. Not to mention he was also friends with Mikasa Ackerman, who was arguably the girl who drew most people’s attention.

Before you knew it, two hours had passed, and you felt your phone buzz. You picked it up from the table, squinting your eyes at the bright screen. It was Jean.

“Hey, why are you with Armin, and that idiot.”

At this, you paused, looking around the library, not seeing Jean.

“Where are you?” you replied.

After a minute or two, your phone buzzed again.

“Come and find me.”

And that was it. He didn’t send any other messages, even after you sent him two more, questioning him again. You frowned, then looked to your things. You had been working for awhile, so getting up and moving might not be the worst thing. You proceeded to pack everything that you had pulled out earlier, and stood from your chair, looking to the other two.

“I think I’m going to head out. Let’s meet up again later in the week to work on Professor Hange’s assignment.”

Armin glanced up, and smiled, “Okay! How about Thursday? I can show you what all I’ve finished!”

“Sounds good.” You gave a short wave, and turned away from the table, scanning the surrounding areas before setting off in a random direction.

There were a few more tables behind some of the bookshelves, but none of the students sitting at them were Jean. You checked out the library’s computer section next, and kept looking until you ended up near Armin and Eren again. Another frown crossed your face, until you heard a muffled laugh.

With the new hint, you looked upwards to the second floor. And there he was, leaning against the railing, smirking down at you. You felt your face heat up in what you were going to call embarrassment, and definitely not any other word that had to do with your complicated thoughts on him, and how from where you stood, he looked almost handsome.

You sent a halfhearted glare his way and headed up the stairs, making your way over to him, about to comment on his antics, but you weren’t able to get a word out before he could make fun of you.

“You looked really dumb running around trying to find me.”

You gave an astonished laugh, “Yeah, well you sounded like a complete stalker just now.”

“And you still came to find me. I’m starting to think you like me more than you let on.”

The unsettling feeling returned to your stomach at his words, though you weren’t surprised that he was poking fun at you after yesterdays game. “In your dreams.” You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to ease the increasing amount of uneasiness that was slowly taking ahold of you.

“Hm, I guess that’s true. Does that mean you want me to dream about it?” He looked at you contently, despite all of what he said being the brashest thing you had heard from him yet.

You didn’t say anything to that, instead you changed the subject quickly. “To answer your question about who I was with, I actually didn’t plan on sitting with them. Armin and Eren joined me.”

He gave a slow nod, and peered back at the table down below, where the two were still sitting, “Do you think I could spit on Eren from here?”

“No, and I dont think you should even try.”

“Buzzkill.”

You scoffed, “I am not a buzzkill. You are just in the middle of some pointless battle of being better than each other.”

Jean looked back to you, staring at you for a moment. Then back down at Eren. “I just don’t get what everyone sees in that guy. He’s clearly an egotistical bastard with no regards to anyone else.”

“Do you think that you guys have anything in common in the fact that you both have ridiculously large egos?”

“Don’t lump me in with him.” This he said more seriously, “Anyways, enough about him, do you want to go do something?”

“Like what?”

He shrugged, and started for the stairs. You followed him wordlessly, and the two of you left the library, now back outside where a light breeze met you. The silence continued to hang over you two as you walked aimlessly in a random direction. You couldn’t tell if he was still thinking about your comment on him and Eren, or something else completely. You decided against asking him about it, and instead found a different topic.

“Hey so, I found this art exhibit at the museum, it’s about the book Hange assigned us. I was thinking that we could go and check it out and see if we can find anything useful?”

He thought for a moment, eyes wandering the path ahead. “Okay, it doesn’t sound like the worst way to spend an afternoon.”

“Would eleven in the morning on Friday or Saturday be okay?”

“Friday works better for me, I think I’ve got plans with Connie on Satuday.”

“Okay, Friday it is.” You paused, a smile slowly making it’s way onto your face, “Just make sure to be on time. I wont wait for you this time.”

“Hey! I already apologized for that.” He stopped in place, giving you a pointed look.

You stopped a few feet in front of him, shrugging as you continued to speak, “I need to cover all the bases. I am not going to wait around for you, just for you to tell me that you were hungover.”

“I am not going to be hungover again. I’m not going to make you wait, I swear.”

“You better not, I won’t be as forgiving this time.” You go to move past him, elbowing him as you do.

He turns on his heel to catch up with you, giving you a slight push at the same time, “You were hardly forgiving last time. You were mad the entire time we were working on the assignment,” Jean pauses, taking a moment to look at the path that you had set off on, “Wait, where are we even going?”

You glanced over to him, then back infront of you. “Well, I’ve done nothing but school work today, and you didn’t mention anything specific other than ‘go do something’ and last time you picked where we went, so now its my turn.”

“Are you going to tell me where we are heading at least?”

“No.” You smiled a little at the statement, remembering how you had done the same thing to him when he had asked about you caring so much about seeing the stars. Looking back over to Jean, who was staring straight ahead, you took a moment to really look at him.

He was pretty tall, and when he wasn’t smiling like some sort of evil bastard, he had a pretty nasty resting bitch face, a combination that probably scared anyone who didn’t know him. Though, you could say that despite all that, he had a few attractive features to him. When he was smiling, actually smiling that is, his eyes lit up. You hadn’t noticed it much before, but now when you thought back on the past few days of being around him, you could see the way his eyes would hold a certain softness. And when he was thinking, he tended to frown, scrunching up his nose until he came to whatever conclusion he needed. And when the two of you were in the field the other evening, he had an almost blissful aura to him, as if he had no cares in the world, you wouldn't ever guess that he was someone who caused so much trouble. Honestly it was probably a good thing that he had a difficult personality. If his ego was bad now, you don't want to know what he'd be like if he knew all of this about himself.

You looked away before he could catch you staring, and before you gave yourself any more time to think about him, not wanting to let yourself actually fall for the guy.

Instead you focused on finding your way to today's randomized destination. If you were being honest, you hadn't actually thought of somewhere to go, and frankly, with how little you actually went out, you didn't know too many spots around campus. Regardless, you continued to lead the way, until an idea formed in your head.

Earlier in the year, you had gotten a tad bit lost while trying to find a class, and ended up on the edge of your campus, where you stumbled on an old tree. Aside from the size of the thing, it seemed completely normal. But when you had looked further at it, there was something of a hidey hole in its backside. Since discovering it, you had made countless trips to the tree, using it as a place to get away from the school. You definitely weren't the first person to discover it, but it seemed like no one else ever really visited the old thing.

As you and Jean came upon the tree, he gave a low whistle, craning his head back to take in it's height, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you just took me to a make out spot,"

You threw a bewildered look at him, before shaking your head slowly, "Well, since you do know better, you should know that it's more likely that I've brought you to the best place on campus to hide a body."

He in turn shook his own head, "And here I thought we we're getting closer,"

"Closer to hiding your body?"

"Not quite what I was thinking…" he trailed off, taking a moment to circle around the tree, his hand trailing along the bark as he went, "so, what made you pick here? Other than premeditated murder."

As he came back around, you watched as he took the time to drop his bag at the ground by his feet, kneeling down next to it for a moment, searching its contents.

"Hm, I'm not entirely sure. I'm pretty sure I'm the only person who ever comes here anymore." You pause, eyeballing what Jean was now holding in his hands, "It's kind of like a secret hideout minus the secret part, since anyone can stumble on this old tree."

"And yet you brought me here…I'm starting to worry about my wellbeing," he chuckles, then takes a seat a few feet away from the tree.

In his hands, he held a sketchbook. It looked a good few years old, as loose pages stuck out here and there, and the sheets were starting to yellow along the edges. You watched on quietly, as he flipped open to one of the last few pages, pausing as he glanced back at the tree.

After a few moments you moved to stand just behind him, looking down at the page, which now held some sketch lines, resembling the tree just ahead of you.

You kept quiet for a bit, watching him quietly. He was lighthanded, it was as if any stray line within the whole piece would fly off the page and into the world around you.

"You know you can sit and watch me draw too, right?"

"Yeah, and sit next to you? No thanks." You moved away from him, a slight flustered tone in your voice as you realized just how long you had been observing him.

Instead, you took a seat at the base of the tree, opening your own bag, pulling out some more of your homework. Between the two of you, the only noises were the sounds of pencil on paper, and the occasional shifting of branches in the wind.

You weren't really sure just how long things stayed that way. The only thing that brought your mind back to reality was the feeling of being stared at.

"Need something?" You asked, arching a quizzical eyebrow in Jean's direction.

He shook his head, closing his sketchbook quietly, "Not at all. I was just wondering how much homework you were going to do before you got bored of being such a studious person."

You scoffed at him. He was teasing you for this again?

"Well, unlike some people, I need to pass all my classes so I can get the hell out of here."

"You hate it here that much?"

You paused, a lump forming in your throat. How were you even supposed to answer that question? All in all, this small town was horrible, and had been that way your entire life. Growing up you didn't have very many friends, and your family was fairly distant to you. You had shouldered all of your problems and responsibilities by yourself. Even now, in your college years it was hard to shake the feeling that you were still alone.

You drew in a breath. "Sometimes, I sit by myself at my desk, and just stare at one of my notebooks until all the lines blur together. And then I realize that I'm crying. But what's funny about that is, I never know why I'm crying. " you start, bringing your eyes to his, "I never have the words to describe what i'm feeling in those moments. It's the same with how I feel about this place. I really don't know if I hate it, or if I'm just…projecting something else onto it."

Jean stills with the information, until he takes a long breath in, "Art isn't much of a passion for me, as much as it is a hobby. I can't tell you how many half finished sketches I have. Sometimes I feel like I just don't have it in me to finish them, as if I'm scared of not knowing what I'm going to do next."

He isn't talking about art. You know this from the way that Jean looks at you, not with pity, but with a hint of understanding.

It was silent once again. Your brain turned over and over as you repeated his words in your head. Slowly, a wistful smile spread across your face.

"You know Jean, you're not so bad after all."

He stands up, shaking his head as he does, and makes his way over to you, holding out a hand for you to take, "I have my moments, I can't always be the charming asshole everyone says I am."

You hesitated for a moment, eyes flicking to his hand. Slender fingers and a wide palm, his hand looked soft, and the thought of holding it, even just for a moment, would be comforting. You took his hand, averting your gaze as he helped you to your feet.

"I'm sure everyone leaves out the 'charming' part."

"That's where you're wrong, everyone thinks I'm charming."

"Everyone but me that is," you chirp back, letting your hands fall to your sides.

"You dont think I'm charming?"

The churning sensation is back. You /wanted/ to say no, to tell him that he was annoying, loud-mouthed, and a pain in the ass, but somewhere in the time you'd known him, he had become annoyingly endearing, loudly funny, and a pain in the ass to ignore the thumping in your chest.

"I can't say charming is the word I'd use to describe you. Horribly pleasant maybe, but not charming."

At this he smirks, starting to walk backwards away from you, "Oh so you think I'm pleasant? Hopefully in the way that I'm nice to look at."

"You missed the word horrible,"

He waved off your comment, instead placing one hand on his chest, right over his heart, while reaching out the other hand towards you, "and yet, if I asked you to join me to a delicious five star dinner at my dorm, you'd still say yes."

You could feel your face flush, knowing that he didn't mean anything more than just to hang out for a little bit longer, and not in some sort of lame date way, "I'd only come because it would be free food, even if the food is terrible. Like you."

"So, that's a yes you'll be joining me for dinner? I've got…box mashed potatoes, frozen broccoli, and hopefully leftover seasoned chicken."

You turned back to where you had left your things, a slightly messy sight. "Alright alright, I'll come, pick up your things and we can go."

You knelt down next to your bag, trying to ignore the nervous shaking of your hands as you collected your things. Your mind raced with warring thoughts. How did this happen? How was it that Jean Kirstein of all people, had weaseled his way into being someone that you didn't fully hate? But, there was no way you were going to let him get in the way of school, and your plans to finally be free from this horrible town. But then part of you wondered, was it all one sided? Jean seemed to be the type to have all sorts of girls and guys fawning over him, even if he had only ever been open about one specific girl that he was interested in, which of course had been Mikasa. But you couldn't even blame him, she was out of everyone's league. How she seemed to be completely and obviously in love with Eren Jeager of all people was a mystery to you.

"Hey, are you listening?" His voice stopped your thoughts in their tracks, as you hadn't even noticed that he had been speaking to you.

"Now why would I be doing that?" You shouldered your bag, standing back up and facing him.

"We've been over this, because I'm charming- sorry, pleasant."

"Again, you left out the horrible part."

"I've got a feeling that you don't mean that, otherwise you'd just call me horrible." He turns halfway away from you, looking back to the general area of the school.

You paused, walking up next to him, trying to ignore the fact that he was right, "You just have selective hearing."

Jean eyed you while starting to head back to the dorms, a different and softer smile making its way onto his face, "Not when it comes to you."

You nearly tripped over a stray rock, his words repeating in cycles in your head. You could only give him a glance, busying yourself with avoiding any other stones on the sidewalk.

What did he mean by that? What did you want those words to mean? Your mind flashes back to your conversation with Marco. The feeling of your heart painfully pounding against your ribs surfaces. Your hands tremble ever so slightly while they grasp at the straps of your bag. Marco was right, and he hadn’t even said anything about you actually having feelings for Jean.

As the thought hit, you spared another quick look towards him. He was looking at you. Careful eyes studying your demeanor. The way you walked. The way your eyes struggled to meet his. The way your mouth formed a tight line as you realized all of this was happening.

“Hey, if you really don’t want to try my cooking, you don’t have to come.” He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair for a moment.

You looked away. You could turn him down, you could go home. It would be the easy way out. You could ignore any of his future attempts at hanging out. You could finish school and leave this place. Leave him and everyone else again.

The thought of it made you shudder. In doing so, you would be condemning yourself to your worst self. Being alone.

You looked back to Jean, his face morphed into one of concern, clearly puzzled as to why you were taking so long to answer.

You were tired of being alone. Tired of pushing away your own happiness in pursuit of a future that wasn’t even set in stone.

You flashed a smile his way, and waved off his words, “No way, you said it was a five star dinner. I can’t pass on that.”

He stared at you for a moment. Then, his confusion melted away, replaced by that famous cocky smile, “Okay good, I wasn’t sure what to do if you bailed on me.”

“Maybe you could have cooked for Connie too, light some candles, play some mood music, you know, make it all romantic for the two of you.” You chuckled, about to make another remark when Jean gave you a playful shove.

“Why would you say that! I can’t have a romantic dinner with Connie of all people!”

“Sure you can! It’s easy! Candles, music, food! All you need!”

Jean groaned and shook his head. “You’re horrible.”

“Pleasant, actually.” You grinned.

He hummed in response, and you could’ve swore you heard him mumble ‘horribly pleasant my ass’

His dorm room was warm, and set up similarly to yours. The same bland, small kitchen and the same questionable excuse for a couch just a few feet away. Three sets of doors that led to his roommates, and two bathrooms.

One of the doors were open, and you caught a glimpse of Connie attempting to take mirror selfies. He would take one, bring the phone close to his face, frown and then try again. It wasn’t until his third or forth picture that he noticed you staring through the mirror.

“Well if it isn’t our very own Rocky!” He grinned, hastily shoving his phone into the pocket of his sweats.

“Hey Connie” you waved, then smirked a little, “I'm sure the ladies will love all of those selfies.”

His face flushed slightly, and he stepped out of his small room, “For your information, the ladies already love seeing my handsome face. I was just taking a few more for-”

Jean cut him off, a bark of a laugh filling the room, “Like you can get a girl to think your ugly mug is anything worth looking at.”

Connie gaped, “Dude, that’s just cold. I thought you liked my face.”

You eyeballed the two, before turning to Jean and mouthing the words, ‘romantic dinner’

Jean glared halfheartedly, before a smile broke through, “and here I thought I was treating you to a five star, romantic dinner.”

Connie was now the one looking between the two of you, unsure if Jean was being serious or not. You, on the other hand, could feel your face heat up. He had to be joking. Jean was making a joke based off of your joke. That was the only thing that would make sense at the moment.

“Only if it involves candles and music.” You attempt to force your voice into sounding level, as if you weren’t sickeningly thrilled by the idea of your dinner with Jean being a little more than friendly.

His head swivels around the room, scanning the small area before emitting a sigh of halfhearted defeat, “Might need a raincheck on that, I don't have any candles.” Jean pauses, thinking for a moment, “Unless you had your heart set on the romantic dinner with candles and music, maybe I can make something work.” He smirked in your direction, true to his usual cheeky self.

You faced away from him, moving to set your backpack down on the floor by the door, “No candles, no deal.” You pause, practically feeling Connie’s wide eyed stare pointed at your back.

“That’s not a no to having a more than friendly dinner, now is it?” Jean fires back, smiling in a not so innocent way. Your stomach twisted in knots. He wasn’t wrong. You had intentionally avoided his question, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of yet another person falling for his aggravating charm.

You shrug a response, giving back another flippant response, “Sure, if it helps you sleep at night to think of it that way.”

After a moment of silence, Connie’s voice fills the room. “Yeah so, I don’t really know whats going on here, but i’m gonna head out. Sasha is waiting for me with Marco.” He slides on a pair of shoes, grabs a bag and promptly leaves, but not before saying a goodbye, “See ya later Rocky, and Jean, I hope you choke on your food.”

To which, all Jean says is, “Yeah, whatever man.”

You watch him leave quietly, then turn back to face Jean, studying him for a moment. He hasn’t noticed your stares yet, not when he’s busying himself with pulling out what he needed for this dinner supposedly high rated by Michelin themselves.

Throughout the past year or so, you had noticed that when Jean was concentrating, he tended to screw up his face a little, eyebrows scrunched in, mouth quirked off to the side, usually whatever was in his hands was being toyed with. But right now, he was different. A content soft smile, and the look in his eyes was gentle. Fond. Domestic.

“Do you need help with anything?” You asked, feeling the need to do something other than just stand around.

Jean looked back up at you, bag of frozen broccoli in his hands. “Do you want to make the instant potatoes or the broccoli?”

You walked to him, and grabbed the bag from him, “Where do you keep your pots and pans?”

“Planning on making this a fancy dinner?” He paused, taking a moment to grab out a small pot for you, and then a lid. “Are you steaming them?”

You set the bag down, then eyed the pot and lid, “Would you happen to have one of those steaming baskets? Or do I need to get creative?”

Jean smiled sheepishly, “I’ve got Connie for a roommate. If I was Niccolo I would definitely have one of those, therefore, you’ll have to get creative. But you’re pretty smart, so I believe in you.”

You nodded slowly. That made sense. Jean and Connie were in the same boat as Sasha, Marco and yourself. If you had done more planning for dinner you probably could have worked something else with Niccolo to borrow his cooking supplies. Though you were sure that the guy would say no, as he was pretty particular about his things. Oh well. You’d have to figure something else.

The rest of the preparations went fine, and before you knew it, the two of you were sitting at a dingy table that each dorm room had, making small talk over left over chicken and mid-tier potatoes and broccoli.

“Okay, so I’ll bite. What’s your deal?” Jean asked suddenly, then his eyes went a little wide as he realized the wording of his question, “I mean! Uh…Well-”

You cut him off, easily able to tell what he meant, “Do you mean why do I have no life and only study and do my work alone?”

He melted under your gaze, before nodding slowly, “I meant it a little nicer though.”

“Its okay, I got what you meant…I think.” You set your fork down, suddenly scrutinizing a small crack in your plate.

Jean cleared his throat a bit before speaking again, “It’s just that…you spend so much time studying, and it definitely pays off. I’ve heard from Sasha that you have really good grades. But…”

“But?”

“They worry about you. Sasha and Marco that is…and well, I kind of do too. At least, more now that I know you a little better.”

You don’t respond. He’s going somewhere with this. You can tell by the cadence of his voice, how he seems to be picking his words carefully.

“I think that even just in the past few days, you’ve opened up a lot…I finally got to see you smile.” He paused, “I remember one time last year, in one of our shared classes, I went to see the professor, but you were already there, pleading with him for some extra credit. And when you came out, you look like you had been crying. The next day, I went out of my way to tell you a joke, hoping that maybe you’d smile.”

“I remember that. I told you that I was busy with a make up assignment and ignored you.” You hummed a little, thinking back to Jean back then. His hair was shorter, and he was even more obnoxious that he had been this year. It was one of the few times you had actually spoke to him at the time.

“So…I guess I was just wondering where all this pressure on you comes from?” He fidgets with something in his hands. Like when he’s focusing on his work. You’ve seen it countless times in the past, you just never thought about it until now.

With a sigh, you resign yourself to telling him a little bit about yourself, “I’ve lived here my whole life. And my whole life, I’ve basically been alone. Friends were hard to come by, especially after I decided that all I wanted to do was leave. So, with no one to hold me back, as long as I finish college strong, I can leave and go anywhere I want. I have to do this. Staying here is out of the question…” You trailed off, thinking about how you had never truly said these words out loud.

“But?” He spoke softly, as if he could tell that you had been battling with yourself on what you truly wanted. He stared at you, not through you as most other people did. Your heart sped up. What were you supposed to say now? You had only started to question your aspirations because of him. And you absolutely would not be sharing that thought now.

“But nothing. I meant what I said. I’m getting out of this hell and I’m not looking back. Ever.” you spat the words out, a sudden low and hollow feeling settling in your stomach. What were you doing? A small voice in the back of your head answered that question for you. The same one that you let control most of your college days. You were wasting time, you had assignments to do and a degree to work towards.

You moved to stand suddenly. “I have to go…I forgot that I’m supposed to meet with Armin tomorrow. I should really make sure that I’m ready to show him my part..and yours too.” You grabbed your backpack, and escaping out into the hall.

You stood there quietly, chest moving up and down as you took in harsh breaths, not entirely sure why you did all of that. With a shake of your head you made the journey back to your own dorm, not bothering to take off your shoes at the door like you normally did, instead you merely trudged into your room, tossing your bag onto the ground by your desk, and finding a seat on the edge of your bed.

“Are you okay?” Your freckled friend spoke up, nearly giving you a heart attack in the process. You hadn’t even noticed that he was home.

You didn’t answer. Instead, tears began to fill your eyes. He was by your side in an instant, arms wrapping around you carefully. Muffled sobs wracked your body. With each one Marco only hugged you a little tighter. He let you cry until you were done.

“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.” The words fell from your lips, and you couldn’t stop what came after them, “This whole time i’ve had one goal; to graduate with soaring grades, and to leave. Make as few friends as possible so that way I wouldn’t get distracted…and so that leaving would be easier.”

“What changed then?” Marco asked, his voice soft and careful. You got the feeling that he already knew the answer.

“Jean. Jean crashed into my life and ruined my plans. I haven’t even really known him that long and suddenly I’m throwing away school just to hang out with him. I haven’t been studying the same way I used to, instead I’m playing volleyball with him, and he’s holding my hand as we run away. I’m sitting with him by that old tree and thinking about him instead of the words on my papers. I’m cooking with him and thinking about how muchI want to do it all again.” Your words are quiet, but Marco hears them all the same.

“You do know that those don’t have to be bad things, right?” He lets you go, taking a moment to scoot away ever so slightly, making you look up at his face, where a small smile rests, “It’s been nice to see you let loose. And I know that you’ve been enjoying yourself.”

You attempt to frown, “Thats not true.”

A beat passes and you speak again, “Okay. Maybe a little…but I-”

“No. No buts. You are the hardest working person I know. You are smart and you always apply yourself to your work. You are doing amazing. It’s time that you see that for yourself. You will finish school, and you will be able to go out into the world and do whatever you want to do, but that doesn’t mean you have to wait to have any of that fun. You deserve to enjoy your life, the one right now in the present that you are living, okay?”

His words played on repeat in your mind a few times, you tried to interalize them, make them into your own instead of letting that voice shoo them away.

“Okay.” You nodded, then brought a hand up to your face, covering your mouth for a moment, “I left Jean.”

“What?”

“We were eating dinner and talking and then I got upset and I just…I just left. “

Marco pursed his lips, nodding slightly as he tried to imagine the scene. Jean sitting alone at his table, probably confused and wondering what he did wrong. “Well…theres only so much you can do about that, which I suggest texting him. Let him know that you’re alright, and just so that the poor guy doesn’t overthink, that he didn’t cause you to run off.”

You nodded, “Right. Okay. I can do that.”

It grew quiet between you and Marco, though it didn’t last very long. There was a light tone in his voice, one he used when he wanted to tease someone without making them aware of it, though you had learned to recognize it fairly well.

“So, I’m assuming that you like Jean…at least a little bit.”

“Okay. Get off my bed. This moment is over.” You push him gently, facing away from Marco.

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Oh would you look at the time? I should really head to bed, okay goodnight Marco, get off my bed.”

He laughed, and did as you said, letting you have the room so you could change, “goodnight lovebird.”

Ignoring him as best as you could, you changed quickly, and crawled right back into your bed, under the safety of your comforter. Once there, you pulled out your phone, fingers trembling as you brought up the chat with Jean.

You stared at it for a moment. The last messages were from earlier this day. He hadn’t said anything since then.

Slowly you typed out an apology. “Hey Jean, I’m really sorry for just bailing earlier. Super not cool of me.”

You groaned at the words, quickly backspacing and starting again. “Sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to just leave you there. I promise things are fine. It wasn’t you, or the food for that matter.”

You hit send, not giving yourself time to overthink the text any longer.

Fairly quick after your message had been sent, Jean had already replied. “Its okay! You had me worried for a minute there. Thought maybe the food tasted so bad that you just had to leave to get an actual five star dinner.”

He was being courteous. Trying to keep the conversation light as to not scare you off again.

Your fingers flew across the keyboard once more, “Let me make it up to you. Friday, 11am, at the museum.”

“You really don’t have to make anything up to me, I get it.”

“Jean. Just let me feel bad and try to make it up. Or else I will think about this all night.”

His next message wasn’t exactly what you thought he’d say…or actually, it was exactly what he would say, “Oh, so if I don’t let you have your way, you will be up all night…thinking about me?”

“No.” You hit send. Then sent another message, “Ykw nevermind. I’m not sorry. Be on time friday or else.”

He was quick to shoot back another response, “Okay fine. Make it up to me.”

Then another message, “How do you plan on doing that anyways?”

“You’ll see. Be patient.”

It wasn’t long after that did you eventually fall asleep. The next day was pretty uneventful. Your meeting with Armin was fine, as the guy already had about half of the presentation outline done, and with all of the information and other necessary work that you had gathered, Armin would most likely have the whole thing done by the time he went to bed that night.

The rest of the day passed quickly, almost too quickly for your liking. Before you knew it, your alarm was going off, signalling that it was ten twenty-five in the morning.

You had spent some time the day before thinking of how to make up for ditching Jean the other night, and finally settled on an idea. Said idea was currently sitting on your desk, inside a plastic bag.

You gave it a quick look before climbing out of your bed, moving to your dresser to get ready for the day.

You had just thrown on your shoes, sparing a glance at your phone to the time. It was eleven. You were going to be late. Of course after all that talk to Jean about being on time, you were going to be running behind this time. You could only imagine what he would have to say about it.

You hurriedly grabbed the bag from your desk, and shoved your phone into you pocket after sending yet another apology to Jean.

The trip to the museum took about twenty minutes with public transport. It was eleven twenty-three and you had finally made it to the museum doors.

Jean was standing just to the right of them, staring down at his phone, his back to you. You watched as he brought his phone to his ear, and smiled slightly as your phone buzzed in your pocket.

You let it ring. Walking up and tapping his shoulder a few times. “Sorry I’m late.”

He spun around, eyes landing on your form. His mouth hung up for a moment before he hung up the phone call, “Is this to get back at me for the other day?”

“No…I just slept past my first alarm.”

“Oh so when you’re late its okay but when I’m late its the worst thing ever.”

You shrugged slightly, “I at least texted you in advance.” You paused, then remembered the bag you were holding, “Oh…um. I got you this. To make up for bailing.”

He eyed the bag suspiciously, “I thought I told you not to worry about it.”

“I worried about it. Now just say thanks and take the bag from me.” You rushed the words out, holding it out to him, “No refunds so you have to keep it.”

His fingers deftly took the plastic handles from you, and reached inside the bag. You watched quietly as he lifted the gift out, eyes softening as he realized what it was.

“You bought me a new sketchbook?” He hummed a little, looking at the cover for a few moments, “This is a really nice brand too. I’ve always wanted to try it out.”

“Your other one looked a little full the other day…so I figured I could afford a nice one to say that I’m sorry. “

Jean let the sketchbook slide back into the bag, “Well…thank you. I really appreciate this.” He toed something on the ground, eyes unable to find yours.

You instead took this moment to find the exhibit tickets on your phone, nudging him slightly, “Let’s get going, there’s a couple of pieces I think we should look at specifically.”

Once inside, you took a few moments to study the map of the place, trying to figure out which hall you needed to go to, before Jean took your hand in his, face a little flushed as he did so.

“I come here pretty often, most of the new exhibits are near the back on the first floor.” He said, pulling you along with him.

It wasn’t too crowded, and as most museums were, it was quiet. A nice solitude for those who liked to hide away from the world, and find new ones in the art and historical pieces sheltered there.

When the both of you made it to the exhibit, you found that you were the only ones there. Meaning that you could stare at the art as long as you needed. Which you did. Slowly you let Jean’s hand slip from yours.

You hadn’t thought about seeing the art in real life, and how much it would effect you. Entrap you in every single paint stroke, every single carving of marble. It was beautiful. Clearly the story that was assigned to you had meant a lot the various artists.

You found Jean staring at a drawing. It was mostly in charcoal, though some color had been added here and there, giving the piece whimsical dimension. It looked to be a tree. A large, barren tree in a valley of never ending sand. From the branches, blue and green spilled out across the paper, spanning what would be the sky.

“You like this one?” You asked with a hush, not wanting to startle him.

He nodded, “It’s simple, but I just know that the artist put a lot of work into it. Every line is purposeful. And we will never truly know what it means.” He responded, eyes traveling down to the plaque, where it read the piece’s title, “Paths.” With an unnamed author.

You let him look at the drawing for as long as he needed. You wandered to a sculpture on display a few steps to the right. It seemed to be one of the titans depicted in the story. Creme colored marble in the form of a woman, skeletal mouth open in what the book claimed to be a war cry. There were ribs formed around her abdomen. Her hand outstretched towards the open air. From this perspective, despite the lack of facial features, the statue almost looked sad. A women with an extraordinary ability, forced to use it for harm, all because she was in love with the wrong person. At least, that’s what you wanted to think. You were sure that others in your class thought the opposite. Which of course was exactly what your analysis was going to focus on.

You studied it for a few more moments, before looking away, finding Jean now standing across the room, in front of another painting. You moved to stand next to him, looking at what held his attention.

It was of a starry night sky, bathed in dark blues and purples. Underneath, was a lone pig in a field, head faced towards the grass.

“This is what started the book, right?” You asked, watching as he nodded once.

“But that’s not what i’m thinking about.”

“Then what’s going on in your mind?”

Jean looked back to you, smiling sideways, “Why did you wait the other night, at the field? I figured that you were waiting for a star, but why?”

You brought your eyes back to the painting, looking from the dark green grass, to the pig that was grazing on it peacefully, then to a star painted to be the brightest one there.

“When I was younger, I used to stand outside, or at my window, and just wait. As soon as I saw the first star of the night, I made a wish on it.” You paused, thinking back on your childhood, “I used to wish for a friend, or someone more than that. I was pretty lonely as a kid. Eventually I started wishing for a future other than that…and then, I stopped wishing. I still would wait for the star, but I made sure that I wasn’t relying on a ball of gas in the sky to make my wishes come true.”

“I’d say that they came true then.” Jean turned his body to face yours, looking down towards you, some thought dancing in his eyes.

You mimicked his motion, allowing yourself to face him fully, “And what makes you say that?”

“You’ve made two whole friends.”

“I’ve made three.” You corrected him softly, thinking back to your first conversation about it with him, “Sasha and Marco are very nice people who I like a lot.” You state matter of factly.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “And the third? Don’t tell me it’s Floch…or even worse, Eren.”

“Mmm close. It’s you.”

He places a hand to his heart, dramatic words escaping him, “How long have I waited for you to realize that you and I are friends.”

“You’re still horribly pleasant.” You remark, shaking your head, “Maybe I should take it back about being friends.”

“Too late, you already said it. No refunds.” He drew closer to you, enough to where you could feel his warmth. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Isn’t that technically already a question?” You pause, then nod to him, “But, yeah, go for it.”

“When you graduate, and leave this town. Will you forget about your friends?”

You hesitate. You knew that he wasn’t really asking about Marco or Sasha. You can feel your stomach flip over a few times, that annoying feeling of nervousness that came whenever you thought about Jean.

“No. I wont. How could I?” Your words seem to have some sort of effect on Jean, as he dodesn’t speak. You continue, trying to pick your words carefully, “When it comes to you, specifically you…I would have one hell of a time forgetting you, Jean.”

“I am pretty cool…” He mumbles, then swallows his pride, “But, what if I don’t want you to remember me?”

You tilt your head to the side, giving him a confused look, but still allowing him to continue.

“I just mean…what if I want to be remembered as not just a friend. As more than that?”

He locks eyes with you, his face serious as he waits for you to say something, to say anything really.

You swear that your heart stops beating altogether. It wasn’t one sided. You thought back to your conversation with Marco from two nights before. You deserved this. Deserved to enjoy yourself. To let yourself live a little.

“I think i’d like that.” You smile warmly, “Because I like you Jean. I tried really hard not to, but I do. And maybe, just maybe I don’t want to look back on college and only remember you as a friend.” You pause, taking in a small breath and willed yourself to finish your thought, “Maybe, after I graduate, we both can look back on the time. Together.”

“So, you don’t want to skip town and never look back?” he asks

“Skip town? Still do, but I can’t afford to ignore my time here.”

“What if I came with you when you leave.” it’s less of a question, and more of an idea.

“Let’s just get to graduation first, Jean.”

He lets out a breathy laugh, nodding as he does, “Got ahead of myself there. But I have one more question.”

You study him for a moment, just as you had been studying the rest of the art in the museum. “You know, you were only supposed to ask one question anyways.”

“Last one, I promise.”

“Okay, okay, what is it?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You’re suddenly all too aware of the small gap in your bodies, and his baited breath, and the sensation in your stomach that feels less like churning water and more like butterflies floating around blooming flowers. You hardly hear yourself tell him yes.

The stiffness leaves Jean’s body, and he brings his hand free from the plastic bag up to your face, cupping your cheek lightly. His hand is warm, but not as warm as your flushed face is. His thumb moves back and forth slightly as he pulls you to him. His lips are soft, and you can feel his lashes flutter against your cheek. You easily find it in you to move in sync with him, allowing yourself to lean into the kiss, a small smile finding its way onto your face.

He lets you pull away first. And for a moment all the two of you can do is stand there. You’re sure that you could stand there all day with him.

You let him speak first.

“So, am I still horrible?”

“Horribly, yet pleasantly charming. Yes.”

#jean attack on titan #jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan #aot #aot fic #aot x reader #jean kirschtein #jean kirschtein fic

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chriscdcase95 · 6 months

Text

Wednesday Addams doesn’t cuddle. Doesn’t snuggle. And doesn’t like to be serenaded. Not in public at least.

It’s something she saves for special occasions, but it’s a promise that she made Enid. And Enid intends to hold her to that…

Or because AO3 doesn’t allow full lyric song fics.

Authors Note: The main song here "Could I Be Your Girl ?" by Jane Arden - lyrics reworked for a Sapphic context.

— — — —

In their dorm, Wednesday is at her typewriter, finishing up a segment in her latest chapter.

Her story features a vampire protagonist who was born on December 24th, and she has spent over half the day researching how Christmas was celebrated in the 17th and 18th centuries.

Behind her, the door opens and Enid steps in looking proud of herself.

“I did it!” Enid exclaims, tossing her bag on the bed.

“Killed your mother ?” Wednesday doesn't even look away from the type-writer, a ghost of a smile on her face “Well, I'm proud of you, but announcing it so brazenly-”

“No silly,” Enid walks up behind Wednesday, wrapping her arms around her from behind, resting a chin on her shoulder “I not only passed the history exam, I beat it!”

Wednesday tries to remain sober, she really does, but her snarky declaration of being proud becomes a lot more genuine.

The past week, Enid had to do a history exam regarding the Civil war and accounts of how confederate raiders in Evermore.

For her assignment Enid was trying to prove the often disputed accounts of the “Red Bath” siege - something Evermore's historians usually don't seriously consider. Notably, the accounts of Addams' ancestors at the time, Ezekial "Tanhide" Addams and his sister Morrigan, holding Evermore's fort during these raids.

Anyways, Wednesday's tutoring of Enid helped her prove the authenticity of these accounts, and further debunked the claims of “reformed” confederate Captain Normanmeyer, whose atrocities were similarly downplayed or dismissed by Evermore historians.

Bottom line, Enid not only passed with flying colors, but drove the history teacher and even local historians into an existential crisis. And for that, Wednesday was extremely proud.

So much so...that before the exam, she promised Enid she would let her-

“Soooo,” Enid says, a sly grin washing over her face, as a look of realization washes over Wednesday's “About my reward...”

A little flustered, Wednesday has a rare uncertain expression on her face, when she looks at an expectant Enid.

“Can-can this wait, you know, until tonight ?”

“Oh, but Honey Badger,” Enid takes one of Wednesday's hair braids, and twirls it around her finger “I've been waiting all week..”

Wednesday exhales deeply through her nose.

She did promise Enid. And Enid has been patient.

“Very well,” Wednesday says, getting up and away from her chair and Enid, making her way towards their window, preparing to close the blinds.

“No.” Enid says.

“No ?”

“I want them open.”

“Enid!” Wednesday didn’t mean to raise her voice, nor could she help the flustered blush that washed over her.

But Enid’s request and how brazen she was being caught Wednesday off guard. She honestly didn’t know what came over her.

“I want the window open too...” Enid grins.

“But-”

“Please Wends ?” Enid gives a sad puppy dog look, pushing out her lower lip.

Wednesday takes a deep breath.

Were they really gonna do this ? Was she really going to let Enid cuddle and snuggle her, to serenade her for the world to see and hear ?

Sweet Morrigan, Enid was going to be the death of her! And Wednesday found herself loving Enid more for it.

And if that annoying voice in the back of her head was any indication…she wasn’t opposed to letting anyone hear Enid’s sing to her.

Wednesday let Enid cuddle her like this three times before; she let Enid sing to her three times before. No self respecting Addams would admit to it, but it did things to her.

But this time, letting others know that Enid snuggles her and sings to her…it meant something far more intimate. It let the world know she belonged to her.

Composing herself, Wednesday tries to remain sober as she opens the window.

“If that’s what you want,” she says “It is your reward.”

Blushing with excitement, Enid takes her place on the bed, waiting for Wednesday, who takes her time making her way to their bed.

“Although…” Wednesday says, trying to delay the inevitable “I had other ideas-”

Wednesday makes a noise like a yelp, as Enid takes her by the wrist and pulls her into the bed. In what was about ten and eight seconds in real time, felt like forever as Wednesday was pulled onto Enid's lap, and she felt herself freeze.

Enid giggles as she feels Wednesday tense and shiver. To relax her, she gingerly moves her hands up and down Wednesday’s shoulders and arms.

“Ready ?”

Wednesday closes her eyes, taking a shaky breath.

“Just…just do it.”

With a small smile, Enid wrapped her arms around Wednesday’s stomach and gently pulled her in, snuggling her from behind. Wednesday takes several deep breaths, before she feels Enid gently rocking her from side to side.

Enid is humming a tune, which gets her to relax a little.

After a moment, Enid rests her chin on Wednesday’s shoulders, putting lyrics to the tune in a soft singing voice.

“Hide your heart under the bed/And lock your secret drawer/Wash the angels from your head/Won't need them anymore,” Enid begins to sing “Love is a demon and you're the one she's coming fooor/Ooooh my Lord...”

Wednesday is flushed, she opens her eyes to look out the window. She can hear students outside. Which meant they could hear Enid.

But if she keeps her voice at this soft volume–

Wednesday’s hopes and silent prayers were shot down, as Enid raises her singing voice to a greater tempo.

“She's bringing sweet salvation/Let temptation take you in/She's every fear and every hope/And every single sin/She is the universe, the love you've been imaginiiiing/Ooooh myyyy Lord/Oh my, my/Oh myyyyy Looooord/Oh myyyyy, my Lord...”

Wednesday opens her mouth, about to verbally object that they could be heard. But Enid’s singing voice had an effect on her that humbled her. Divina is clearly some sort of influence on Enid, but she doesn’t know if that is a good or bad thing.

“And I am ashes/I am Gaia/I am precious/Could I be your girl ?/Could I be your giiiirl?” Enid hits the chorus.

Wednesday opens one eye to the window. The voices outside have stopped. Either they’ve all gone indoors…or they could hear it.

They could hear Enid, and they would know…some might want to investigate — confirm their suspicions — and they would know for sure. They would know that Wednesday Friday Addams, daughter of Gomez and Morticia…allowed her significant other to cuddle and serenade her for the world to hear.

“Put a chair against the door/And turn the lights down low/Write a letter to yourself/No one will ever know/Tell them all about the girl who just refused to fall/Ooooh my Lord-”

At the start of the school years, Wednesday would get so mortified at the very thought or idea, that she would sooner go a week in all pink. And yet…Wednesday find herself liking it.

“She is the very breath you feel inside your lungs at night/She is the bitter wind who's drying up your appetite/She is the darkness that seeps into your fading liiight,” Enid continues, affectionately nuzzling her nose into Wednesdays hair “Ooooh myyy Lord/Oh my, my, oh myyyyy Looooord...”

Outside the dorm, several students are listening, with mixed expressions of disbelief, and embarrassment.

Everyone’s eyes are towards the dorm, and the open window. Vampires are paying attention. Gorgons are paying attention. Werewolves and Sirens are ESPECIALLY paying attention. Bianca is looking away, covering her mouth with a flustered expression.

“And I am ashes, I am Gaia/I am precious/Could I be your giiiirl?/Could I be your giiiiirl?/ Ooooh.” Enid continues to sing.

Across the courtyard, Yoko and Divina are coming back to the school grounds. The latter with two ice cream cones in hand. Between them is four year old Pubert Addams, who Yoko and Divina have taken to get ice cream when Wednesday dropped babysitting duties on them.

A mortified Yoko crouches down, protectively covering Pubert’s innocent ears, while Divina nods towards the dorm with an approving expression.

“And I am worthless sounds compared to all your perfect words/Could I be your giiiirl?/Could I be your giiiiiirl?”

As Enid hums the instrumental, Wednesday tries to formulate any lucid thought, her fluttering eyes still to the window. Her breathing is heavy through her nose. She bites her lower lip, and couldn’t stop her blush if she tried.

And she did. She really did.

It’s only when she thinks she can breathe, that is when Enid hits the final chorus.

“Wash the angels from your head/Won't need them anymore/Hide your heart under the bed/And lock your secret drawer/Love is a demon, and you're the one she's coming for/Ooooh myyy Lord!”

“Oh my lord…” slips past a flustered Wednesday’s lips, and she really hopes she is mouthing. But she can feel Enid smirking against her neck, and had the sinking feeling that she heard it. And the others heard it from outside.

Wednesday thought she could die…and yet. It made her feel alive!

She can certainly understand why her parents are so cuddle/serenade happy when they think she, Pugsley or Pubert couldn’t hear them. Morticia’s “talk” with her was right. It did feel natural. And with that, Enid brought the final verses to a close.

“Oh my, my lord/Oh my Lord/Could I be your girl ?/Oh my Lord)/Could I/Could I be your girl…”

Enid brings her voice lower and softer, a gentle hush and she feels Wednesday squirm a little.

“Oh, sorry!” Endid releases Wednesday, and gives her some space.

Wednesday, still catching her breath, doesn’t even care if her face is red. She adjusts her hair and waves her hand to fan off her face, before placing it on her forehead. For a moment she doesn’t say anything, as she tries to compose herself.

“I’m sorry I–” Enid tries to stay, but stops when Wednesday holds a finger up to silence her.

Wednesday takes another moment, before looking at Enid.

“Could…?” Wednesday tries to say, before her face turns a mild pink.

She bites her lip and takes a deep breath, and it dawns on Enid what she is trying to say.

“Could…I…try that…with you ?” Wednesday winces, not believing she was actually saying this.

“Yes!” Enid says excitedly, before trying to calm herself, and okay it cool “I mean- I mean sure.”

Hesitantly, Wednesday inches her way towards “Just gonna…”

She reaches forward with shaky arms, wrapping them around Enid’s waist and pulling her in close. It’s a little off, but it was more or less the same position Enid held her moments ago.

Wednesday wasn’t used to being the big spoon and it shows.

“Are you sur-?”

“Yeah. Just- just don’t patronize me, okay ?” Wednesday says, still a little flushed as she flickers her eyes at the open window.

Going through the motions, Wednesday begins rocking side by side. It’s awkward, stilted and clearly out of her comfort zone, but Enid’s relaxed exhale tells Wednesday she’s doing something right.

Already, Wednesday was humming a tune, and she didn’t even realize it until she realized she had to put words to it now. She opens her eyes, looking at Enid and that bright encouraging smile. With a friendly pat on the head, Enid silently tells her to go for it.

Licking her lips, and taking a deep, shuddering breath…Wednesday puts lyrics to her tune.

“Sometimes the snow comes down in June/Sometimes the sun goes round the moon,” Wednesday begins “I see the passion in your eyes/Sometimes it’s all a big surprise…”

Enid wants to say something to the effect of “Atta girl”, but doesn’t want to break her stride.

“Cause there was a time when all I did was wish/You'd tell me this was love,” Wednesday continues, her eyes briefly flickering at the window “It's not the way I hoped/Or how I planned/But somehow it's enough…”

#wednesday netflix #wenclair #wendesday addams #enid sinclair #wednesday x enid #incorrect wenclair #song fic

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moonsgemini · 10 months

Text

american heartbreak - ii

summary: a big win and one too many tequila sunrises could be just the right push to idiots in love needed, or could possibly create more self doubt.

warnings: cowboy!rafe x oc, fem reader, drinking, bull riding ?, vomit, cussing, mutual pining, ward being ward, excessive use of nicknames (sorry?), cowboy!rafe (yes it needs a warning)

wc: 4.8k

an: I know nothing about bull riding so please bare with me lmao I researched as best as I could. This took soooo long but I did it! I love where this series is going & I hope you guys do too. Next series to be updated is seeking arrangments <3

series master list - previous part

June looked herself over in her mirror brushing her hands over her dress. In her usual sundress and boots she let out a satisfied sigh and grabbed her big denim jacket. She was hoping to catch Rafe’s attention tonight, maybe he would want to spend time with her. Instead one of the girls he always ended up having hanging off his every word.

“James is here Juney!” Amber shouted from the bottom of the stairs. Her boyfriend was going to give the two a ride tonight.

“Coming!” She replied. She grabbed her bag and headed downstairs to meet the couple.

“Hey James,” She said and smiled at the dark haired man.

He nodded at her, “Hey June Summers.” James always said her full name for some reason. June never questioned it. Amber came out from the kitchen and grabbed James’ hand.

June followed behind them. She always felt like they were her parents when it was just the three of them, “We better hurry because June’s gotta help with the raffle tickets. Oh and she needs some time to stare at Rafe,” Amber smirked looking back at the girl who was locking the front door.

“Hey!” June scolded as she turned around quickly.

James laughed and said, “Don’t act like it’s a secret that you’re crazy for him.” He opened the truck door for his girlfriend before she climbed in.

June rolled her eyes opening her door, “I’m not crazy about him! I just have a small crush on him. Just like a school girl crush.”

“Oh please you’ve had a school girl crush on him since you were literally a school girl.” Amber laughed.

“Can we talk about something else please,” June said with a huff, no longer wanting to be ridiculed for her crush.

“You’re coming to Rooster’s right June?” James asked as he drove to the rodeo.

June shrugged, “Yeah I guess so. I don’t want to miss out on another night of Amber falling off the mechanical bull.”

Amber laughed at the memory, “I will be that damn bull one day,” she turned to James, “she’s also going because Rafe explicitly asked if she was going.”

“I’m gonna jump out of this truck right now.”

After they arrived James walked them over to where the riders were. He was going to meet Rafe to make sure everything was good to go before his first ride. There was still over an hour before it was supposed to start so June had some time to be with Amber before helping Mrs.Mayfield. She shivered lightly at the cool autumn breeze and also because of her nerves. She was nervous to see Rafe, he always made her a clammy mumbling mess.

Amber was walking with her going off about a girl they went to high school with’s pregnancy announcement. Amber always knew all the gossip and she always passed the information along. June laughed at something Amber said closing her eyes for a split second, but with her clumsiness she tripped over a rock. Her heart dropped as she felt herself go forward but she never hit the ground. A pair of arms held onto her waist firmly keeping her in place. She gasped and looked up at whose arms they were and of course it was Rafe. Her knight in shining armor.

“June bug gotta watch where you’re goin’,” Rafe gave her a lopsided smile as she regained her composure.

She felt hot all over as she stood up straight and took a small step back. Being too close to him was making her dizzy. She cleared her throat, “Well the rock should watch where it’s going.”

She cringed internally at her failed attempt to be witty. His smile turned into a full one as he chuckled, she was thinking that he either agreed she was cringey or maybe thought she was funny. Either way she still felt hot from embarrassment.

“Rafe and I have some prepping to do so we better get a move on,” James said as he walked over to Amber and gave her a hug and a kiss. June had almost forgotten that the couple was there. She watched with admiration, she liked Amber and James together. Mostly because he made her best friend the happiest she’d ever seen her.

While James and Amber were being lovey dovey Rafe had stepped to stand beside June. He leaned down and nudged her shoulder with his, “Am I seein you tonight? After?”

She looked over at him with a shy grin not wanting to show how on the inside she was screaming that he had asked her again about after the rodeo, “Only cause you’ve been askin so nicely.”

Rafe wanted to eat her up. She had no idea of the affect she had on him. He had always harbored a crush on her, ever since he was nine years old. His sister had met her when he was in fourth grade and they were in second grade. Sarah had dragged a girl behind her as she ran towards Rafe and their mom waiting in the pick up area of school. Once he laid eyes on her he couldn’t hear anything Sarah was saying. All he could do was stare at her pretty face.

June started coming over to Rafe’s house and his preteen brain couldn’t handle it. He swears that he stopped finding girls gross when he saw June for the first time. He always kept his distance from her because she was Sarah’s friend. Once he got to high school he had become somewhat of a Casanova since his bull riding career had begun to take off the girls started to pay more attention to him. June never really showed that she liked him as more than a friend so he started dating other girls. He was blind to the way her smile got weaker when she’d see him out with a girl. He couldn’t tell that she always held back tears whenever she’d go to their house and he’d be leaving with a bouquet of flowers in hand for his date that he was late to pick up because he was waiting to run into June to see her.

He always felt like she was too good for him. Too pure for someone like him. Of course he made flirtatious comments towards her and was always a gentleman. Helping her unload new flower pot shipments if he happened to walk in after a delivery. Rafe held doors open for her, always walked her to her car when she’d leave the Cameron house late. He wanted to at least show her that he was always there if she needed him.

June simply thought Rafe was an extreme gentleman and incredibly charming towards everyone in the way he was with her. She learned not to get her hopes up when she kept seeing him with a new girl every week. It was just how Rafe was, she wasn’t any different to him.

“I’m honored,” He smirked.

The couple had finished their goodbyes and walked up to them. Amber wrapped her arm around June’s shoulders, “Rafe your girl has to go help Mrs.Mayfield.”

“Make sure you’re watching when I’m out there,” Rafe pointed at June as him and James began to walk away. She nodded and gave him a small wave as he left. That incredibly charming smile never leaving his face.

“That boy is so smitten,” Amber laughed throwing her head back.

June rolled her eyes, “He’s like this with everyone.”

“Whatever you say honey,” Amber patted her back. They reached the booth where Mrs.Mayfield was setting up the tickets and the cash box.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite flower girls,” The older woman beamed at the girls. She was a sweet lady who everyone in town knew. She was in charge or everything. If there was a community event Martha Mayfield was most likely organizing it.

June hugged the woman, “Mrs.Mayfield you look as beautiful as ever.”

“You’re too good to me dear,” She turned towards the red head next to June, “Now Miss Amber I still do not see a ring on that finger.”

Amber sighed dramatically walking over to the woman, “Soon I hope, please talk some sense into that boy next time he delivers your eggs.”

“I always do honey,” She patted her cheek gently, “Now lets sell some tickets and make some money for the dance.” She clapped her hands and went behind the booth where June had started to help her.

Rafe sighed as he listened to his dad try and coach him. Ward was hard on Rafe, he always passed it on as him caring so much about his son. Rafe knew that his dad just wanted bigger trophies and bigger checks. He couldn’t hate the guy because he had given Rafe so much and pushed him hard to be the best. Frankly it worked and Rafe became the best.

It’s why now he was really getting a coaching lesson because tonight was either all or nothing. If Rafe got first place he’d move on to the semi finals. Of course he wanted to win the championship but making it to the semis of the southern eastern bull riding championship (SEBRC) would bring him a lot of attention. He’d be closer to going pro. Rafe was already being watched by a lot of sponsors and recruits but a win would prove just how good he is.

“Whatever you do Rafe do not let go,” Ward looked at him intensely, “And do not let your hand fall. You have to use everything in you son.”

“Dad I got this okay? Trust me I can do this,” He nodded his head, “I will do it.”

“Alright lets get out there it’s almost time.” Ward patted his son on the shoulder as he led him out of the stables where they had been talking.

They walked back over to where his team was watching the current rider. Rafe put his hands on James shoulders startling him.

“Holy shit dude,” He gasped.

“Lets get ready,” They walked over to the bull pen.

James looked over at his best friend, “is tonight the night?”

“What, the night I win?” Rafe smirked.

“No idiot, the night you finally ask her out or do something.”

He shrugged, “I’ve got something in mind.”

“Just don’t let those buckle bunnies near you of else she’s gonna keep thinkin you don’t see her that way.”

After all the raffle tickets had been sold June joined Amber and Sarah in the stands. They were sitting with Amber’s parents and a few of their other friends. June sat next to Sarah who was texting intently on her phone.

“Is it John B?” June asked her.

Sarah huffed, “Yeah he thinks he might not be able to drive here next weekend because his van keeps breaking down.”

“I’m sure he’ll figure something out,” She smiled.

“Last but certainly not least is the guy everyone has their eyes on, home town hero Rafe Cameron!” The announcer shouted over the speakers.

Everyone cheered and clapped for Rafe. June felt a pit of nervousness in her stomach. She always worried about him when he rode because anything could happen. She was confident in his abilities but bulls are unpredictable animals.

“This always feels like the longest ten seconds of my life,” Sarah muttered leaning forward in an anxious stance.

“He’ll be okay, he always is okay.” June reassured placing her hands over Sarah’s that had been picking at her cuticles anxiously. She didn’t just say it for her best friend but also for herself.

“He has to beat 6.76 seconds and get more than 88 points to move on,” Amber leaned forward telling the girls.

The blow horn sounded and they lifted the gates. Everything always happened in slow motion. The bull bucked and thrashed around as Rafe held on tight to the rope. His arm steady in the air never faltering. He needed to stay on for three more seconds and he’d most likely win. The clock ticked 6, 7, 8. Then Rafe was finally bucked off, he flew off of the large brown bull landing almost under its heavy hooves. Everyone held their breath as they waited for him to get up. He stood up grabbing his hat swinging it in the air and yelling with excitement as the crowd started cheering. He had stayed on for 8.96 seconds, the best score of the whole night.

June stood up along with everyone else clapping and cheering for the cowboy. Rafe looked out into the crowd with a big smile on his face trying to catch his breath. It was like he knew where she was because his eyes landed on her immediately. He couldn’t hear the crowd cheering anymore he could just see her as she smiled widely and clapped. He would ride a million bulls over and over again if it meant she’d be there cheering him on.

He walked back to his team who was patting him on the back. James came up to him and hugged him with a big smile, “Man you’re a monster, you’re in this fuckin thing. You’ve made it.”

“We’re in this thing. I couldn’t have done this without you man,” Rafe was grateful for his best friend who had become more like his brother. James placed a hand on Rafe’s head ruffling his hear out of endearment.

“Judges have their final scores in,” Ward said walking up to the two men. Ward never really congratulated his son on his achievements, all the more reason why he was grateful for James.

They climbed on the gates to watch the score board. Rafe placed his hat back on his head. He looked back over the the bleachers looking at June again. She was talking to Sarah her eyes going back and forth from the score board to her best friend. As long as she was here Rafe knew everything would be okay if he didn’t score as good as he wanted. Whenever he looked at her the trophies, money, and title’s didn’t matter.

“The judges have their final score for Rafe Cameron, and are we surprised? The 22 year old bull ride comes in with a score of 94!” The announcer says before the crowd goes wild, “Ladies and gentlemen we have our first place winner! Rafe Cameron is headed off to the semi finals!”

James whooped in excitement and wrapped his arm around Rafe. They climbed down from the fence as people came up to Rafe to congratulate him. The other winners were announced but Rafe didn’t care he was riding an unbelievable high.

The girls had practically ran down the bleachers to go find Rafe. Sarah was beyond excited for her brother, all of his hard work was paying off. Once they got to where the team was they saw them hand Rafe a bottle of champagne.

“Rafe! You did it!” Sarah shouted as she ran up to hug her brother, “Mom is so proud.” Rafe nodded his head feeling a bit emotional wishing his mom could be there to witness his success.

“Congrats Rafe,” Amber hugged him next.

“Couldn’t have done it without your man,” He said pulling away and pointing at James.

June wasn’t sure if she should hug him or not. She always got anxious in these situations, wishing she was like those girls that had confidence. Rafe looked over at her as she shyly watched him.

He knew her better than she knew herself so he walked up to her, “Guess you gotta come out now.” He smirked.

“I guess I do,” She shrugged, “Congratulations Rafe. You’re gonna do incredible things.”

Rafe’s heart burst at her words. He reached forward and hugged her. She immediately reciprocated wrapping her arms around him. They pulled away and looked at each other for a few seconds. Their friends around them never interrupting because they knew.

“Champagne anyone?” Rafe said turning to all of them. He shook the bottle before popping the cork and spraying it everywhere.

“Rafe!” Sarah laughed covering her face.

“To Roosters we go!” James said pointing up.

June and Sarah interlocked arms as they walked behind James and Amber. Rooster’s was packed as well as the other bars on main street. June sometimes worried that their flower shop a few blocks down would get damaged by a bunch of drunks but they’ve never had any actual problems. Rafe was coming by later after he took care of some things at the rodeo.

“Are you drinking tonight Junie?” Sarah nudged her.

She nodded her head, “I actually am. I just want to have some confidence tonight, not be in the background like always.”

“Tonight is going to be so fun. You’re never in the background babe,” Sarah reassured her as they walked through the bar doors.

It wasn’t too crowded yet as people were still leaving the rodeo. Someone was already riding the mechanical bull and country music was already blasting through the speakers. They went up to the bar where their favorite bartender Sam was.

“My favorite people!” He said wiping his hands on a towel, “What can I get you guys?”

“Jameson and coke for me and three tequila sunrises,” James said knowing the girl’s orders.

“What a gentleman James,” Sarah said.

“Hey first round is on me guys. Gotta treat the champions’ people right,” Sam winked at them.

“Sammy boy you’re too kind,” James said sliding him a twenty as a tip.

Once they got their drinks they found a couple unoccupied tables by the pool tables. They pushed them together before sitting down with their drinks. June’s leg anxiously bounced as she waited for Rafe. Her eyes moving around the room as she looked at everyone. She felt like there were too many pretty girls here for Rafe to even give her an ounce of his attention. The confidence she had was slowly diminishing as the seconds passed.

Her thoughts were interrupted by loud cheering, she looked behind her towards the door. Rafe had walked in changed into a white tee shirt and open flannel with a brown jacket. His riding boots traded out for his nicer ones, black hat still perched on his head. She felt light headed, the half of the tequila sunrise she had drank already getting to her. When his eyes met hers she looked away nervously trying to focus on anything else in the room. Her focus landed on all the women ogling him and sending him flirtatious smiles.

He walked up to the group standing beside June, “Started without me guys?”

“Get your drink so we can celebrate now,” James nodded his head towards the bar.

“June bug will you come with me?” Rafe asked turning towards the girl who had yet to make eye contact with him again.

She looked up her face getting hot, “Sure.”

They walked over to the bar and Sam immediately took Rafe’s order. June placed her hands on the bar her eyes looking anywhere but Rafe. The liquor bottles behind the bar were really fascinating.

“How did selling the raffle tickets go June bug?” Rafe asked trying to make conversation.

She turned to him trying to set her nerves aside, “It went well, definitely got some money for the community.”

“That’s good,” He smiled, “how’s the flower business going darlin?”

She laughed softly, “Uh it’s actually going really good. Even with the weather gettin colder sales are still good. We even have a huge wedding coming up that’s going to be beautiful and so great for business. They ordered tons of bouquets with the most amazing colors,” she rambled on about her work. June was very patient about flowers, she loved how something from the earth could make someone feel so happy, loved, cared about, and seen.

Sam brought over his drink telling him that it was on him. Rafe nodded his head at him before taking a sip, “You know I love when you talk flowers,” he smiled at her.

Her eyes widened slightly, “You do?”

He nodded, “Of course, your eyes light up and you’re just so passionate. It’s attractive sweetheart.”

June’s skin was going to melt off if she felt herself getting any hotter, “You’re too ki-“

“Rafe!” A high pitched voice interrupted. Both Rafe and June turned towards the noise.

“Oh hey Rachel,” Rafe said trying to be polite. Rachel was one of Rafe’s endeavors that he returned to a few times too many. Now she thought that her and Rafe could be something more when he never promised her anything.

“You were amazing tonight. You’re sooo talented,” She twirled her blonde hair paying no attention to June.

“Thanks, um this is June,” He nodded towards the girl he really wanted to be alone with.

The blonde turned her attention towards her a small furrow in her brows, “Oh hi, how do you two know each other.” Rafe knew that Rachel was trying to figure out if June was hooking up with him.

“I’m friends with Sarah so we kind of grew up together,” June said feeling a spark of jealousy in herself.

“Cute,” Rachel said tilting her head a teasing smile on her lips. She turned to Rafe again putting a hand on his arm, “Rafe come sit with us I’d love to congratulate you on your big win.”

Rafe didn’t really want to deal with Rachel and her friends at the moment. He had someone else he wanted to focus on. He turned to where June was and found her spot empty. He looked around the room and found her walking back to the table. He sighed, “Actually I’m gonna hangout with my friends tonight,” he tipped his hat at her and walked back over to where they were all sat.

Sarah glared at him, “Rachel again? Seriously?”

Rafe rolled his eyes as he sat next to June, “Actually no.”

June felt like maybe it was because of her that he didn’t hangout with her. Or maybe he just wanted to be with his friends. Either way she was glad that Rafe was sitting next to her.

After a lot of laughing and three more drinks June was definitely drunk. She had been laughing at something one of their friends, Stevie, had said when Rafe started to notice just how drunk she was. He had never seen her be so social and he liked it but he was also worried because he’d never seen her drink this much.

“James and I are gonna head out. We’ve got the farmer’s market tomorrow Junie,” Amber said placing a hand on her friends back.

“Oooo can you guys drop me off please?” Sarah asked with a slight slur.

Amber wrapped an arm around her shoulder, “well of course dear.”

June’s eyes widened at the mention of the market, “Oh nooo the farmer’s market, I forgot about that,” she put her head down on the table starting to regret that last shot she took with Sarah, “I’m gonna be so hungover.”

“Come on babe we’ll take you home,” Amber said patting her head.

She sat up and looked over at Rafe with a pout, “I don’t wanna go home yet.”

He gave her a small smile and brushed some hair out of her face, “I can take you home in a bit bug, I only had a couple beers.”

She smiled widely and quickly turned back to Amber, “Rafe is taking me home,” Her smile never faltering.

“Okay babes,” She laughed knowing her friend wanted more time with the guy she’s been in love with since they were 7, “Rafe please get her home safe.” She pointed at him with a stern look.

“Yes ma’am,” He said tipping his hat at her bidding the trio good bye.

The other guys that had been with them had joined a group of women at the dart boards working moved on them trying to teach them how to play. June looked around the room at all the people having fun and drinking. They all seemed so care free, like they did this all the time. She wished she could be this fun all the time, then maybe Rafe would like her.

“Rafey I wish I could be this fun all the time,” She pouted looking over at him.

Rafey. She hadn’t called him that since they were kids. He didn’t realized he missed hearing her saying it until his body felt tingly all over. It rolled so smoothly off her lips like only she could say it because she was the only one who made it sound good.

“Sweetheart you are fun all the time,” He reached forward and brushed her hair back again. Admiring her pretty face.

She leaned her head against his hand enjoying the warmth they brought, “mmm then why don’t you see me more.”

“I’d see you every day if I could bug. I’m gonna make more time for my girl,” He smiled lovingly at her. He really hoped she’d remember this tomorrow.

She looked at him with tears in her eyes a dopey smile on her lips. Before she could say anything she felt her stomach turn. The tequila was catching up to her now. June sat up straighter with wide eyes. That’s when she felt everything coming up. She slapped her hand over her mouth and as best as she could in her drunken state she ran out of the bar doors.

Rafe wasn’t far behind her as she turned the corner to puke on the side of the bar. The contents of her stomach spilling all over the dirt, some of it getting on her favorite pair of boots. Rafe stood behind her holding her hair up and patting her back. He made a mental note that three drinks was the cut off for you.

“Oh god this is so embarrassing,” She sniffled once she was done. She was a lot more sober now and definitely wishing she could get swallowed by the earth. Rafe Cameron just saw her puke her guts out. The guy she’s been in love with forever.

“No no it’s okay June,” He held her hands, “let’s get you home okay? You’ll feel a lot better once you’re in bed.”

She frowned as she walked with him to his truck, “You probably think I’m so gross.”

“I could never. You’re always an angel to me,” He opened the door for her and helped her in.

She had no words. June felt like she didn’t deserve Rafe, he was always so kind and never judged her. The world was lucky to have him. He jogged over to the drivers side and got in. The drive to June’s house was quiet except the rock music that was softly playing from the radio. It was a nice silence.

Once they arrived to June’s house Rafe opened the door for her. Holding her hand as she climbed down. He placed a hand on the small of her back leading her up the porch stairs to the front door. She pulled out her keys and unlocked the door.

She didn’t go inside yet she turned to Rafe looking down at the ground not really wanting to meet his eyes. She was still feeling ashamed from the parking lot fiasco, “Thank you for driving me home Rafe.”

“Anytime, you good to go up on your own?” He asked wanting to make sure she makes it up the stairs and into bed.

She nodded her head finally looking up at him, “I’m a bit sober now so I’m good. Thank you,” she gave him a shy smile. The liquid courage was definitely leaving her system.

“Call me if you need anything at anytime, okay? I’ll be there,” he reached for her hand giving it a small squeeze, “I’ll see you tomorrow June bug.” He leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to her cheek.

Her eyes widened in shock, maybe she was drunk? He pulled away and started walking down the porch steps. Once he got to the bottom he turned towards her with a small smirk, “I’m not leaving till you go in darlin.”

She cleared her throat and blinked a few times before turned the door knob, “Right uh good night Rafe.” She waved stepping into the house.

After locking the door behind her she leaned against it with a sigh. June listened as Rafe drove away already missing him. He was so sweet to her that night. She wanted to think it was because things were changing between them, what if he does see her in a different way.

As soon as those thoughts entered her mind they left. Who was she kidding? Rafe could have anyone why would he choose me? she thought to herself as she walked upstairs to her room. She decided that if this was just Rafe being kind then she’d savor it and enjoy it before he finds someone who actually interests him.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron series #rafe fic #rafe cameron au #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron x oc

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anewp0tat0 · 11 months

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yea no I lied, I couldn't leave before doing this cause obviously I'm obsessed. obviously.

here's what I could research about the staff highlighted to be working on Black Butler season 4 in the time and patience that I had right now.

Kenjiro Okada: Director

I did some casual gathering on the good ol Wik. I don't recognize a lot or any of the previous works that he has been a part of, but it is a plenty some, so feel free to take a look for yourself. for a better idea, I took a glance at him through IMBD as well. I gotta be honest, not to cause any concern but just to be blunt, it's not the best look. when briefly checking out the works that he's done, a good some of them only make it up to 6 stars. only a few actually make it up to 8. but of course this could be due to a couple different factors, such as the source materials being not well known, or just not that great to begin with. after all he works mainly with adaptation. this could be his big break idk maybe :>

further on that, here's something I borrowed from Wiki.

honestly, this could be a potential concern as well. we all know that an unfortunate part of the fandom, especially over in japan, is into things the rest of us would rather not see in anime. I don't know why else yana would continue to add fan-service time and time again(I'd rather not think of her personal preferences). so if this person is really interested in pandering to the fanbase, it may lead to some scenes being uncomfortable... as usual. but, I shouldn't focus on the negative, all in all this looks like it will be a good thing! all we want from an anime adaptation is for it to be faithful to the manga, and especially after season 1 and 2, I think this assurance is much needed. besides, this could be an indication that he will be working closely with Yana, and projects that do so have succeeded *points to campania*. I'm optimistic, and I sure hope that we're in good hands.

Hiroyuki Yoshino: Head Writer

so unless I'm looking at a different Hiroyuki Yoshino it looks like this guy is a voice actor and singer first... interesting. as far as I can see it, he hasn't voice acted anyone in Black Butler.

oh no yea completely different guy, my bad! very different. the Real Hiroyuki Yoshino(screenwriter) was the screenwriter for Book of the Atlantic! sorry. we're all good here, perfect in fact.

unless he decides to substitute someone else for the double charles :] I still remember that. I don't remember if they're in this arc and personally I wanna keep it that way.

more info.

Yumi Shimizu: Character design

I'm not really jumping out of my seat to research this one, no offense to the designer, but I don't think we'll be seeing much character design other than Yana's. as for the artistic style of the anime, we already saw the teaser, and I think we're happy(I am really trilled that they released the announcement at the same time as the teaser, the announcement alone would not have had the same huge impact. plus it reduces the fear of cancelation ;] not putting that out there).

more info.

Ryo Kawasaki: Music

this is someone I really wanted to look into cause the music will matter a lot to me.

I found it, here's the soundtrack for the upcoming season 4.

with a background of jazz and band(popularizes to fusion genre apparently), this guy doesn't appear to fit with previous Black Butler soundtrack history. but I think that this is an indication that the mood and music of this season may be different of the rest due to it now being a sports show lol. and I think that's good! if done right I think the tone change will be hilarious, or, if everyone hates it, it's easily distinguishable from the rest.

I think this will be fun. here's more. also he looks awesome. impressive guy. man I'm praying for a killer new opening GOD.

I still wonder who the composer for the more classical score that I saw in the teaser is, if not him. it was nice :>

and finally:

CloverWorks

they're doing Spy X Family, did The Promised Neverland, Shadow House, many more that even I know of, we're good!

their page

a lot of y'all are very savvy at research, so if anyone wants to add on or contradict, go ahead! have a very, lovely day, everyone.

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #cloverworks #kuroshitsuji 2024 #2024 anime #kuroshitsuji anime #black butler anime #masterpost #not the most serious thing though I mean I used Wikipedia and NOW im calling it a nigjt #some of these people I couldn't find pictures of that I was sure was them during the 2 minutes I looked through google images #and maybe they want it that way so I'm leaving it as it is #long post

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avatarmerida · 2 years

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Hypothetically. How do you think willows dads would react to meeting hunter (either before they get together or after) 👀

They had been on two dates. Well, two official certified dates. Hunter wasn’t sure what counted as a date. Was it anytime they were alone together? What about double dates? Did it have to be for a certain amount of time? Did certain activities not qualify?

But Willow referred to it as “going out” and “dating”, which made him think of a endless date. So he treated every encounter like it was a date, just in case.

In his research, he found common things that often composed a successful date: the way you greeted each other, the way you said goodnight, the amount of eye contact you maintain were all important factors. So, he made sure that every time he saw Willow, he greeted her with a gift. The books suggested flowers, which Willow adored of course, but he didn’t want it to get boring so sometime it was flowers and other times it was patch or a hair clip or a drawing of a wolf.

Willow tried to tell him it wasn’t necessary, but she didn’t try very hard because she did love being showered in gifts. Hunter thought it was more than a fair trade, because no matter what gift he gave her she reacted as though he had given her the moon. She would show everyone and gush about how sweet her boyfriend was and Hunter surely would get the moon of he could hear her say that everyday.

Hunter had never been a boyfriend before, and wanted to ensure he was doing his absolute best. He composed a list of steps and topics that usually arose in a relationship and would check off each step as they want no matter how small, tracking their progress.

There was one in particular he kept putting off.

So that’s how he found himself at Willow’s door, more dressed up than he had ever been in his life. He had let Darius take control, picking out his outfit and styling his hair to ensure he was the spitting image of a perfect boyfriend. He stood at the door for what felt like ages, begging his arm to raise so he could knock and announce his presence. But he was frozen, realizing that right now was the last time he could imagine what it be like. Soon he would know, and according to all the books this could make or break their relationship.

He didn’t need to knock on the door as Willow soon swung it open dramatically, delighted to see him.

“I thought I saw you out here,” she giggled. “Were you trying to scare me or did you come all the way here just to stare at my front door?”

“Oh, no! No, of course not I uh well these are for you,” he said first and foremost, handing her the small bouquet. “I just uh... was stopping because well uh...do you remember the other day when we were talking about things that people do when they’re... uh romantically involved?”

“I do,” she said. She has stopped correcting him to call it “dating’’ as his terminology had really grown on her. She was a fairly big fan of him saying something was romantic.

“Well there was one at the end that really stood out to me, and I said that I didn’t know if I was ready but... I am now.”

Willow’s eyes lit up. “Are you... are you sure?” She asked, excitement swirled her voice. She tried not to let it show too much to ensure he gave her an honest answer, but she couldn’t helped but be biased right now.

Hunter nodded. “I don’t know if I’ll be good at it but I really like you and... I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t kind of looking forward to it. It kind of make me nervous but I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Like... a lot.”

“Well I really like you too.” She said, playing with her braid. “And I’ve been thinking about it a lot too.”

“So you don’t think it’s too soon?” He asked, wiping his hands on his dress pants, her response relieving him somewhat. “Because if you’re uncomfortable I can always come back a different time and I-.”

“Right now sounds perfect.”

Hunter gave her a big dopey grin and took a small step forward. Willow looked up at him breathlessly, she moved the flowers she held to her side so they wouldn’t get crushed as the space between them lessened. She was thankful Hunter looked just as flustered as she imagined she did, standing so close together. But she loved it. She gently placed her free hand on his cheek and closed her eye as she brought herself onto her tip toes to kiss him. She moved slowly as to not crash into him, but it felt almost impossible.

She could tell Hunter seemed taken back at first, she heard him inhale sharply through his nose as though he had forgotten how to breath. But soon enough his tenseness left him and he bent down a tad so it was easier to kiss him. He placed a hand on her shoulder to steady himself before placing it on her jawline to mirror her.

“Well, that’s one way to answer the door I suppose,” came a voice from behind them.

Hunter instantly broke away, taking a grand step back as Willow turned around to see her fathers standing in the doorway. Their arms were crossed as they normally were when she was in trouble, but they faces didn’t hold the usual disapproval.

“Dad! Papa! What are you-.”

“We’re answering the door,” replied Harvey with a littler smirk. “But it looks like you beat us to it. This must be the famous Hunter I take it?”

“Oh well I sure hope so,” laughed Gilbert, jabbing his husband in the ribs who offered a chuckle.

Hunter looked utterly modified, Willow had never seen his face so red. She was worried he might pass out for a second.

“N-nice to meet you sirs,” said Hunter loudly, looking like a lost baby deer, as he stuck his hand out to greet them. They both shook his hand as Willow stood between them slightly confused. Hunter looked like he was sour to pass out.

“Nice to officially meet you too, son,” said Harvey. “We were so glad to have gotten your message, we have many questions.”

“I’m sure I’ll be happy to answer all of them!”

“We’ll see about that,” said Gilbert in a low voice before heading back inside.

“Luckily we have all night to take about your relationship with our daughter.” added Harvey as he walked inside as well, trying not to burst into laughter as he took the flowers from Willow. “I’ll put these in some water for you dear.”

Willow walked back to Hunter who finally managed to exhale when her dads were out of sight.

“So... when you said you were nervous about something, you were talking about... meeting my dads?”

Hunter nodded.

“Oh, so when you were leaning in, you were-.”

“-ringing the doorbell,” he finished. “The books all say it’s proper etiquette.”

“Oh,” said Willow remembering now that they had talked about that too, but she had brought up their first kiss many times, mostly to see how red the tips of his ears got. She thought her not so subtle hints had worked. “Sorry about that.”

“Oh no no no no please don’t be sorry!” Said Hunter frantically. “That was the total opposite of sorry! It was great! I mean, I’m uh... t-thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said shyly. “Well, hope you don’t mind reaching two milestones in one night.”

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with being a head of schedule,” he laughed, erasing her embarrassment.

“Yeah, I guess that means we can move the engagement up.”

Hunter looked as though he was going to explode. “What?”

“Oh no no no I’m joking, I’m joking,” assured Willow, as she took his hands in hers and held them tightly. “Do not mention that to them!”

“Well now it’s all I can think about!” Hunter spiraled as he started to sweat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Willow repeated. “Just pretend I didn’t say anything!”

“Am I just supposed to pretend like I don’t wanna marry you?” Hunter shut his mouth as soon as the words left. His mind raced with how to recover but he could not find a way. The only way out now was to die on their doorstep, but he didn’t want to be such an inconvenience. “I mean... I don’t not want to-.”

“Now who’s the one skipping steps?” she laughed and he joined her, taking a deep breath and calming down. “How about you start with telling them how awesome I am? They’ll like that, they’ll probably take credit for that.”

“Literally all my talking points revolve around that.”

“Good,” she smiled. “I mean, first impressions aren’t everything, right? The first time we met, I dragged you out the sky with a vine and look at us now! This was just a cute misunderstanding. This will just be a funny story they can tell at our wedding.”

“Okay, I just stopped thinking about it and now it’s back again,” groaned Hunter. Willow giggled and apologized, but he could tell she wasn’t really all that sorry. She took his hand and went to lead him inside but he pulled her back gently.

“Hey wait, uh do you think we could maybe... do it again?” Hunter asked bashfully “Ya know, just because I wasn’t prepared to the first time and I want to be... I mean I don’t want you to think... but I think it would be nice if-.”

“Of course,” Willow responded, standing back in front of him. She closed her eyes and waited, allowing him to set the pace this time. He placed his hands on the side of her face, remembering once she had done that to him claiming she could hold the whole world in her hands. It felt right, it felt terrifying and delicate and wonderful, but most of all it felt right.

Hunter gulped and took a deep breath before carefully and slowly leaning down to her. She was trying not to smile but a small smile still shone in her pursed lips.

Before he could meet her lips, a loud cough from behind her stopped him dead in his tracks. He looked up in horror to see her dads had returned to the scene, most likely to see what was taking them so long. Hunter was frozen with his hand still on the sides of Willow’s face whose eyes had also opened wide in horror.

“Will you two be joining us for dinner or would you like us to reschedule around a time that works better for you and your kissing calendar?”

#huntlow #winter toh #toh #Willow park #Hunter toh #the owl house #huntlow fanfiction #ask #anon #my fanfic

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munsonsmixtapes · 2 months

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https://www.tumblr.com/munson-memories/747987127426531328/idk-if-you-take-requests-but-i-had-this-idea-in-my?source=share

MY HEART HURTS OOOH 😭😭

Got me feeling all loved up on a wednesday morning ❤

How do you think their friends and family reacted 🎉

That’s such a great question! Here’s how I think it would go!

Eddie x bestie!fem!reader

word count: 1,071

cw: none!

The table was filled with all of the people you loved the most. It was your parents and Wayne and Steve and Robin and the kids. You had told them all that you had an announcement and they all agreed to come over to your apartment to have dinner even though they all could guess what your news was.

The two of you couldn’t contain your excitement. Even though you hadn’t told anyone, you both still spent hours every night before bed looking at everything wedding related, whether it was a gown magazine or researching a venue, or even ordering a wedding cake sampler despite not having set the date yet. You couldn’t have been more thrilled to share the rest of your lives with each other and each have rings to show everyone that you belonged to each other.

You stood from the table and clinked your champagne glass with your spoon to get everyone’s attention. The chatter stopped and they all turned to the head of the table where you had been standing.

“I just wanted to thank everyone for being here tonight,” you started. “As you know, Eddie and I have been friends practically our whole lives. We’ve never left each other’s side and have been there through thick and thin. Despite everyone’s assumption that we were a couple, that was never really something we thought about or discussed.”

“Well,” Eddie took over. “I have loved y/n since I could remember. I wasn't sure in what way, but now I know. I want to spend the rest of my life with her and the other night, I proposed and she said yes.”

Everyone was silent for a moment before they were all reaching into their wallets or purses for cash. They were all either passing it across the table or the people next them and you were wondering what they were all doing.

“I’m sorry, what’s going on?” You asked, clearly confused by the money being passed around.

“Well, I thought you were going to tell us you were pregnant,” your mother answered.

“So did I,” Steve added. “And Rob was right so I owed her twenty bucks.” The whole thing didn’t surprise you in the slightest. You wondered how quickly they had all come up with it this time.

“Oh, so you all bet on what we were announcing?” You quirked an eyebrow, trying to seem serious but you ended up letting out a laugh and Eddie was quick to join in.

“Sorry,” your father shrugged. “It’s easy money.”

“Let me see the ring,” your mother waved you over and you moved to her left, holding your hand out so she could get a good look. Everyone who couldn’t see it from their seats all gathered around you as they all “oohed” and “aahed” at the sparkly diamond on your finger.

“It’s beautiful, y/n,” your mother responded. “You’re going to be such a beautiful bride.” You could see her tearing up which only made you do the same. She wiped away your tears with the pads of her thumbs then pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “My baby’s not a baby anymore.”

“Oh, mom. I’m still your baby.” You pulled her into a hug that she was quick to return. At that, it seemed like everyone wanted to get in on it, so you made the rounds hugging everyone, Wayne being last.

You held onto him the longest since he always seemed to give the best hugs second to Eddie. Wayne had been like a second father to you. You felt like you could go to him for anything. It could have been a scraped knee or even a broken heart and he would have patched you up literally and metaphorically. He always gave the best advice and it was always accompanied by a cup of coffee at the table in his kitchen.

Wayne didn’t think there was a better person for his nephew. From the first time he had seen the two of you together, he knew that you were going to be in Eddie’s life for a long time. You were sweet and selfless and clearly wanted to be friends with Eddie because you liked him for who he was.

“Thank you for taking care of my boy,” he patted your back.

“I wouldn’t want to do anything else. He’s my person.” You gave him one more squeeze before letting go.

“And I know he’s very lucky to have that title.” Your cheeks blushed at his words and you turned to the man who you were going to call your husband who was conversing with Steve. They were both laughing about something and your heart warmed seeing him so happy.

“And I’m lucky to have him.”

“He called me the day he bought the ring.” You turned back to Wayne as he said the words. Eddie had failed to mention that to you.

“He did?”

“He did,” he nodded with a laugh. “The boy was so nervous and I had to calm him down. He loves you so much and he didn’t want to screw it up.”

“He did a wonderful job. You did great raising him, Wayne.” You gave him one last hug then headed back over to your fiancé.

You wrapped your arms around his middle as he was still deep in conversation with Steve. His arms went to your shoulders, pulling you as close to him as possible. Steve looked at the two of you in admiration. He honestly wasn’t surprised in the slightest at hearing about your engagement and was shocked that neither of you had popped the question sooner.

Him and Robin had a bet going for so long to see when the two of you were going to finally realize your feelings for each other. They couldn’t believe that it had actually taken twenty years for you to finally see that you were soulmates. It had been obvious to everyone around you, but apparently not to the two of you.

You turned to Eddie and looked into his warm brown eyes, feeling your heart warm at seeing the way they softened for you. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips that you gratefully accepted. You were going to live happily ever after with the only person you’d ever want to spend it with and you couldn’t have been more grateful to have him.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff

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writing-intheundercroft · 9 months

Text

Your Ivy Grows // Introductions

AO3 Link

Ominis Gaunt could not see, but he could feel.

He could feel the long thickets of grass outside of his Aunt Noctua’s home. He could feel the sand down by the beach, grainy and coarse as he ran from her, giggling. He’d learn to feel the bumps on paper (braille, the muggles called it) from books Aunt Noctua bought from London so he could read. Ominis could feel his little wooden sailboat splash through the water of the tide pools, the sting of salty air touching the tip of his tongue.

He could feel the disdain his mother had for him, and the indifference of his father and siblings. Everyone had told him how much his mother had wanted another baby boy, but it seemed her enthusiasm had died down once she realized the task of childbearing was finally behind her. She’d produced an heir and a spare for the Gaunt lineage, as well as three daughters to serve the bloodline. Mrs. Gaunt was done, a triumph in the eyes of other pure blood families. What they didn’t know was that Ominis was always at his Aunt Noctua’s; for as long as he could remember, he’d been sent in a carriage, alone with just a house elf to escort him to the beach house.

Ominis could feel Aunt Noctua’s love. It was the only love he’d ever come to know. She was more of a mother to him than his own, and despite the fear he felt traveling without sight in a thestral drawn carriage, the second the carriage landed and the doors opened, he knew he would be greeted by Noctua’s warm arms. Aunt Noctua read him bedtime stories, sat with him at the dinner table, and skipped with him along the beach. Much to his father’s dismay, she’d taken him to buy a wand, and after an entire month of researching echolocation spells, she’d taught the little blind boy how to use his wand to see.

“Ominis darling, come here.” Noctua called.

He was ten years old, just about to turn eleven in July. In four months, he’d be off to his first year at Hogwarts—his first time ever spending more than a month away from Noctua.

Ominis held his wand up, the tip glowing red as he guided himself to the garden. Noctua was sitting in her garden beds, tending to her beloved flowers. He knelt down next to her, feeling her linen apron before he fell to his knees in the dirt. He remembered his father complaining Noctua’s garden was too unruly; she’d merely laughed, claiming she liked it that way.

“What are you doing today?” He asked timidly, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“I’m working on the ivy.” Noctua announced. “You must be diligent with it; it can easily overgrow and take over the other plants. You’ll be the steward of this house one day Ominis, I’d like for you to learn so you may take care of it yourself.”

“Won’t I have a gardener?” Ominis quipped.

Noctua snorted. “Not with the way your father spends.” She took his hand, helping him feel the leaves of the lush ivy below him. “Feel this—you shouldn’t let it grow any longer than this, otherwise my violets will be completely overtaken. But take care not to trim it too far back, otherwise the snakes won’t have anywhere to hide.”

Ominis nodded, holding his wand up in his other hand. “Will I learn how to care for ivy in Herbology class?” he quipped.

Noctua let out one of her booming laughs. “Oh no, sweetheart. You’ll learn about far more exciting plants in your lessons. Magical ones, with many purposes. Ivy is just a regular plant.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Then what’s the point of it?”

Noctua put her palm on Ominis’s pink cheek. “It’s pretty, and I like it. It doesn’t need to have a point besides that.” She put down her trimming shears, dusting dirt off on her apron. “And besides, plants are living beings, and life itself is magic. They bring me joy.”

“You bring me joy,” Ominis stated.

“Sweet boy.” Noctua pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “You bring me great joy as well. I fear this house will be quite lonely without you come September.”

“Can I stay?” Ominis pouted. “You can tutor me. I don’t need Hogwarts; you’ve already taught me so much.”

Noctua sighed. “You’ll be happy to go to Hogwarts. I loved it when I was there–I made many great friends, and I’m sure you will too.”

He pouted even more. “I don’t need anyone else besides you, Aunt Noctua.”

“I won’t always be here, my love.” Noctua murmured. “A day may come when I need to leave, and you’ll need to be very brave and take care of this beautiful house for me.”

Ominis swallowed thickly. He didn’t ever want to think about a day like that coming for her.

“Madame Noctua, luncheon is nearly ready. Would you like Golly to set it up in the garden for you?” a little voice rang. It was Golly, Noctua’s house elf, a plump little thing with warm rosy cheeks. She’d been Noctua’s beloved house elf for as long as Ominis could remember, and was always the one to accompany him in his carriage rides.

“Thank you, Golly. Yes, let’s take lunch in the garden.” Noctua announced. She stood up, holding her hand out to Ominis to grasp. “Lunch, and then we’ll play down by the water, hmm?”

It had been a simple day. There were no presents, no visitors, nothing particularly special about it to single it out from every other day Ominis spent with her. But he could remember her being a little sad after their tea, shutting herself in her study afterwards. She had sent a letter to Ominis’s father, supposedly about the research she’d been conducting on their renowned ancestor, Salazar Slytherin.

Ominis heard her muttering a word under her breath that haunted him for ages. Scriptorium , she’d called it. A secret room at Hogwarts that no one had ever found before, supposedly where Slytherin’s greatest research was being hidden. Aunt Noctua had been sure it would prove the Slytherin had interests outside of blood purity, and that there was more for the Gaunt family to aspire to.

Ominis went to Hogwarts that September, and wrote to Aunt Noctua every week. He met his two best friends, Sebastian and Anne Sallow, and he told her all about the twins and their antics. Come June, he wrote to Aunt Noctua one last time, apologizing that he would not be able to spend the summer at the beach house; he’d be in Feldcroft with the twins and their uncle.

Noctua wrote back to him, sorry that they’d miss one another, but sincerely happy that he’d made honest, good friends. She told him that she’d be off on an adventure, and that she’d write to him as soon as she could. Feldcroft wasn’t far from her destination, she’d teased. Perhaps if she was successful, she could visit him before summer’s end and meet his friends.

Ominis never heard from Aunt Noctua ever again.

_____

Ominis had been coerced by his mother into dinner at Gaunt Manor; he should have known there were strings attached and that Marvolo would have an assignment for him. The three of them now sat in silence at the long, splintered wooden dining table; Marvolo, seated at the head of the table, with his cold, austere mother on the right. Ominis was to his left, poking at the remnants of his dinner.

“So, I have a new charge,” Marvolo said easily, setting his cutlery down. “And a job for you this summer.”

Ominis raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me, a charge?”

Marvolo hummed. “Yes. A gentleman I work with has left his daughter in my care for the summer, and I need someone to mind her while I’m in London.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ominis grumbled, playing with the tarnished silver fork in his hand.

“I most certainly am not,” Marvolo sneered, his attitude shifting swiftly, as his moods often did. “And if you ever want to see a knut of your inheritance, you’ll do as I say.”

Ominis inhaled sharply. “You can’t seriously be asking me to play governess for the entire summer.”

“I need someone to mind the girl,” Marvolo explained. “Someone to supervise her, make sure she keeps herself in line. You do this for me,” Ominis could sense his brother’s heavy hand pointing at him, “And you and your little farm boy will get the money you need to take your world tour.”

Ominis frowned at the mention of Sebastian. He loathed whenever his family mentioned him. His chosen family would always take higher precedence than those of his blood. Sebastian was his real brother; the two of them had planned to take a year-long tour around the world together, but Sebastian was still trying to come up with enough money to sustain their travels. Ominis could get the money easily enough from his family’s trust, but Sebastian was toiling day in and out working at Flourish and Blotts to fund his travel expenses, and refused a single galleon from Ominis.

“That,” Marvolo took a sip of his wine. “And you can finally have Noctua’s house.”

“You have her up at Noctua’s house?” Ominis’s ears perked.

His Aunt Noctua’s home was dear to him; he’d spent most of his childhood there, cast away from the family manor. Out of sight, out of mind, Ominis thought. His mother had no patience for his blindness, and his father nearly forgot his existence. As Aunt Noctua had never been declared dead, merely missing, the home sat unoccupied. Marvolo had brought it up in conversation a few times–mostly to complain about it being a money pit, or about it being too close to a muggle village. It was a modest manor off the coast, hours away from any wizarding kind, perched on the ledge of a seaside muggle town. Ominis hadn’t been there since the summer before his first year at Hogwarts.

Ominis knew Noctua was dead, having discovered her body with Sebastian and their peculiar friend during their fifth year. They’d had to leave her bones behind; despite feeling horrible about her final resting place being the door to the Scriptorium, Ominis would never, ever be put in a situation where an unforgivable curse was his only way to safety. He was sure Aunt Noctua would understand.

“It’s been cleaned up; the old house elf is still there, minding her at the moment.” Ominis could sense the frown on Marvolo’s face. “You’ll live there, keep an eye on her, and stay out of trouble.”

“Why does she need minding? Does she not have a nanny of her own to do so?” Ominis inquired.

Marvolo sighed. “She’s rough, I’ll leave it at that. Feral little alley cat of a child, already scared off the three governesses we’ve tried to stick with her.”

“And pray tell, why has her father left her in your care?” Ominis crossed his arms and leaned back against the wooden chair. His brother was the last person who should ever have the responsibility of a child; he had no patience for it, nor a modicum of emotional intelligence.

“Her father owes me a debt–and a daughter is all the currency he has. Can’t risk him ‘accidentally’ misplacing her, like he’s done with all the rest of his collateral.” Marvolo explained.

Ominis soured at the thought. He knew his brother dabbled in unsavory business, and no matter how he tried to frame it, he was clearly extorting this man with his daughter’s life.

“Last question. Why me?”

Marvolo snorted. “You’re the only chap available. Given your deficiencies , I don’t think you’ll be too busy during the social season this summer. Perhaps another year.”

Ominis tried his best not to flinch at his brother’s insult. Ever since their father had gone senile, Marvolo had taken up place as head of the family. He was responsible for the family trust, and had carefully chosen each of their sisters’ husbands. Ominis was nearly twenty one, and he was surprised his brother hadn’t surprised him with some meek, sniveling pure blood bride. Marvolo himself had been married for a few years already, with no children in sight. He hardly spent enough time with his own wife, choosing the company of his many mistresses in London instead. Ominis knew Marvolo blamed his poor wife for their misfortune, but he secretly hoped it was his brother’s own misdeeds that caused their inability to procreate. However, if times truly became desperate for the Gaunts, it would mean the family lineage was left to Ominis’s hands—an idea he truly loathed.

Ominis stood in the foyer, fastening his cloak around his neck as he made his departure. With his wand securely stowed in his pocket, he didn’t notice Marvolo sneak up behind him. The two brothers couldn’t have been more different, physically and emotionally. Marvolo had the typical Gaunt look, with dark hair, hooded eyes, and terrifyingly large figure. Ominis greatly favored his mother’s side of the family with his blond hair and lithe figure. Thanks to Noctua, he also had a trait most of his family lacked—kindness.

“Don’t fuck this up, brother.” Marvolo sneered. “It’s a simple job, get it done and you’ll have what you need.”

Ominis shuddered as his domineering brother backed away, and apparated back to his London flat as quickly as he could.

_____

Ominis stood at the edge of the blustery cliff, gazing out onto the water. He’d do so often with Noctua when he was a boy, punted off to stay with her so he’d be out of his older siblings’ way when they returned from Hogwarts. He never minded it though–Noctua had been the only light he’d ever known before he met Anne and Sebastian.

Speaking of friends, Sebastian had begged him not to take on the job. He’d have the money by the end of the year, he reassured Ominis. There would be no need to stoop down as low as Marvolo to fund their trip. But Ominis couldn’t bear to watch his best friend spend seven days a week peddling books for sickles, and anyways, he wanted to see how the old house was faring. So now, he stood just yards from the house’s gates, clutching his suitcases, ready to take on the role of guardian. Ominis’s stomach churned with nerves; he’d never spent much time around children even when he was a child himself, so he wasn’t even sure how he’d talk to a girl.

When he pushed through the front door of the house, he took in a deep inhale. Despite the musty smell, it reminded him of his childhood. Ominis raised his wand, alerted to the presence of a smaller being in front of him, and let a smile grace his face.

“Golly, it’s good to see you.” He knelt down, getting on the same level as Noctua’s house elf.

“Master Ominis, it has been so long,” the old house elf croaked, patting his hand. “My, you have grown into such a fine gentleman. You look so much like my Mistress Noctua.”

Ominis’s smile faltered. “Yes, I do miss her.”

Golly the house elf beckoned him in. “I’ve prepared the mistress's old chambers for you to sleep in during your stay. Let me take your cases.”

“Absolutely not, Golly. I’m triple your size, I’d never let you carry any case of mine.” Ominis declared. “Leviosa,” he muttered, the suitcases now floating behind him as he ascended the creaky stairs.

As he pushed the door open to Noctua’s bedroom, Ominis bit down on his lip. It all felt so familiar to him as he walked around, feeling everything—the four poster bed, the big bay window with a deep seat attached to it. Even the smell of the linens felt familiar, despite being freshly washed. The sea breeze always left a salty note on the cotton.

“I could’ve stayed in my old apartments, you know.” Ominis murmured.

Golly shifted back and forth. “Your new ward is staying in them. I thought the mistress’s apartments would be best suited for you.”

“And where is she?” Ominis quipped. “I should meet her before supper.”

Golly sighed. “Probably down by the beach. She’s not very good at following rules—reminds me quite a bit of your sisters when they were younger. Master Marvolo hired three ladies to oversee her, and each quit within a week.” Golly uttered the girl’s name, tutting her tongue. “You shall see her at supper, I suppose. Please, get some rest and freshen up. I’ll have the meal set in two hours.”

Ominis dallied for half an hour, laying about the bed before he decided to unpack his trunks. He only brought clothes, books, and some parchment and dictation quills to write home to Sebastian. The desk had been cleared of its former mistress’s possessions, and it felt odd to set it up with his own belongings. Ominis dragged his hands against every square inch of the mahogany desk; he remembered exactly where things belonged. Noctua’s perfume bottles would be in the center, letters and notes littered on the left edge next to her quills and ink pot.

Ominis shook his head. If he were ever to be master of the house, he had to start getting used to the furniture being his. He splashed water on his face to freshen up, and got dressed for a formal dinner. Ominis only ever dressed up for meals with his family, but it felt far too casual to be informal in front of his ward.

Ominis descended the stairs, the scent of a rich roast chicken guiding him to the dining room. Golly had set up a full seven course meal, which was far too decadent for Ominis’s taste. She had always spent time laboring over Ominis’s favorite foods as a child, and he didn’t have the heart to tell her that he no longer liked figgy pudding. But it had been years since he’d seen the little house elf, and he wanted to make her feel useful after being lonely in the house for so long. Golly hummed as she set the dishes on the table, clearly happy to no longer be alone in the house.

Ominis listened to the clock chiming and frowned. “Where is she?”

Golly sighed loudly. “Wouldn’t count on her to be on time, Master Gaunt.”

“But your feast will have gone cold.” He complained. Disrespectful child , he thought.

Ominis sat at the table for another thirty minutes, waiting and tapping his feet against the marble floor. He was about to stand and barge out of the house looking for the girl, when he sensed a figure sauntering into the dining room.

“Golly, I’m back.” A feminine voice called out. “What’s for dinner?”

Ominis raised his wand, a bit taken aback. When Marvolo had said she was a girl, Ominis assumed a child–but the person entering the dining room was a woman , probably his age. She was tall, and he could sense her hair swishing around, as if it were in two long braids. He could smell the scent of the coast lingering on her frock, and the mud on her shoes.

Ominis stood up abruptly. The girl stopped in her tracks, glaring at him.

“Who are you?” she snipped.

Ominis cleared his throat, bowing his head slightly. “I’m Mr. Gaunt. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

She said nothing, slowly approaching the table. “You aren’t the Mr. Gaunt I know,” she stopped right in front of him, appraising him. “You’re…much younger. Certainly more handsome.”

Ominis brushed the back of his neck, fighting the blush he could feel creeping on his face. “You’re referring to my older brother, Marvolo.”

She sniffed. “Yes, much more handsome. Your brother is quite brutish.” He could feel her eyes raking over him.

“I may be blind, but I can sense you staring,” Ominis snipped. “And it’s rather unladylike.” He maneuvered to the chair next to his, pulling it out for her.

“I wasn’t raised to be a lady, Mr. Gaunt,” she taunted him as she sat down. “But if that’s what Marvolo desires of me, he’ll have it.”

Ominis frowned as he sat back in his chair. He wasn’t sure how his older brother was so well acquainted with the young woman, and he certainly didn’t want to know.

The two of them sat at the dinner table, the silence thickened the air. For quite some time, Ominis could only make out the sound of teeth gnashing on meat, and Golly humming from the butler’s pantry.

“How did you find your travels?” The girl quipped, the soft clatter of her silverware breaking the silence of the room.

“Quite nice. I used to spend a lot of time here as a child, and I missed the journey.” Ominis hummed. “Weather is delightful this time of year.” He felt silly, exchanging pleasantries about the weather with his house guest. If he were truly to be the man of the house, he should brush up on better conversation topics.

The girl cleared her throat. “I didn’t know Marvolo had a brother,” she admitted. “How much younger are you?”

Ominis stiffened, blinking his unseeing eyes at the table. “Fifteen years. I was born while he was away at Hogwarts, so we’re not very close.” He paused for a moment, narrowing his eyes. “You didn’t go to Hogwarts. I would’ve known you.”

“Father wanted me to stay close to home; his profession is quite dangerous, so he couldn’t imagine me being far away.” she said simply. “Mother tutored me though.”

“And what does your father do?” Ominis inquired.

She hesitated. “Rare artifacts. One might call him a treasure hunter. We traveled frequently with him.”

“And life on the road is much safer than Hogwarts?” Ominis probed.

“I quite liked it.” she sniffed. “I’m well traveled, I’ve studied all over the world, rather than being cooped up in a dodgy old castle.”

“It’s not dodgy,” Ominis rolled his eyes. “It’s fantastic, one of the best places to be.” Ominis counted Hogwarts as one of his happiest places–Hogwarts, the Sallow cottage in Feldcroft, and Aunt Noctua’s home.

She shrugged. “Then you haven’t traveled enough.” She tilted her head, changing the subject. “I find it strange they sent a man to watch over me, not another governess.”

“Well, I’ve heard you’ve chased all the nannies away.” Ominis chuffed.

She smiled at that, and he bit down on his lower lip to hide his smile. “I’m twenty, I don’t need a governess. I was hoping they’d send a companion, but I suppose you’ll have to do.”

Ominis set his cutlery down, wiping his mouth politely. “Look, I don’t mean to imprison you here. I won’t say that I understand exactly why I’ve been charged with your care, but I promise to treat you with respect and make sure you have everything you need for your own comfort.” he hesitated. “We both clearly have duties to our family to attend to, but I won’t restrict you. Go about your day as you wish, and I’ll do the same.”

Ominis could feel her heated stare. She leaned back in her chair, playing with the end of one of her braids. “You and your brother couldn’t be more different.”

He tipped his wine glass towards her. “I consider that a high compliment.”

_____

His ward had retired to bed, and Ominis decided to take a walk around the property. He swirled a glass of wine in his hands as he stomped through the yard towards Noctua’s garden. Perhaps he could hire a groundskeeper to tend to the land once the house was passed down to him. Poor old Golly deserved a retirement; he could free her once he became the master of the house. He’d pay her a fair wage, just like Noctua used to…

Ominis wasn’t much of a drinker back in London; Sebastian always enjoyed hanging out with their classmates at the Leaky Cauldron, and he was a happy drunk. Ominis, on the other hand, would be drunk just from social exposure. He normally found drinking alone a bit depressing, but something about being in a house that was almost his made him feel like celebrating. Golly had opened up one of the good bottles from the cellar, and he wouldn’t let it go to waste. He felt good; the tangy red liquid had him feeling warm all over, and the salty breeze from the nearby ocean was just as intoxicating.

He didn’t need his wand—Ominis could retrace his exact steps to the garden gate, having made the journey hundreds of times as a little boy without a wand. Once, Noctua had made him count his paces, and he still found himself doing so as he approached the wrought iron gate. He put a hand out to pull it open, frowning when his hand met air instead of the handle.

It was already open.

Ominis pulled his wand out of his pocket, taking a large gulp from the glass in his other hand. He knew it was ungentlemanly, but he wiped his mouth with his billowing sleeve. Wand raised and tip lit red, he pushed forward to see who might be in the garden so late. It was nearly eleven o’clock at night, and he was the only one out of the house. Ominis readied himself for a duel in case it was an intruder–his heart raced, hoping he wouldn’t have to defend the women in the house.

Ominis heard the soft hum of a voice in the distance; they were singing to themself, kneeling on the ground. he could also hear the sharp slice of shears, and the sound of branches and leaves being piled up on the ground. He held his wand in the direction of the sound, sensing the outline of a young woman on the ground.

It was his house guest; she was kneeling on the ground in her nightgown, her two braids dangling as she leaned over the garden beds.

“What are you doing?” Ominis barked.

She startled. “Oh, Mr. Gaunt. I didn’t realize you’d be walking out here so late.”

“What. Are. You. Doing.” Ominis seethed.

He could sense her standing up, wiping her hands on her lap. “I was tending to the garden—Golly mentioned the old owner was a dab hand at herbology, and the whole thing was teeming with weeds, it was a shame. I’ve been trying to fix the garden beds, they’re all so overgrown with ivy. You know, it can be an invasive species if planted too close—“

“Don’t!” Ominis yelled, kicking the shears away. He knelt down on the ground, his wand discarded, feeling the garden bed. “You’ve trimmed it too far back.”

The girl scoffed. “Excuse me, I know what I’m doing. Besides, if you let it overgrow, snakes can start burrowing underneath.”

“You’re disrupting them,” Ominis growled. “Leave it be! This isn’t your garden.” He patted the ground; Noctua’s violets were gone. “What have you done with all the flowers? Where…where did you get those shears?”

He knew the girl was staring at him oddly. “I found them in the garden shed; Golly said I could use them and the apron. Mr. Gaunt, I’m only trying to help—“

She was wearing Aunt Noctua’s apron, he realized. Her apron, her shears, her garden, all in the hands of a stranger.

“Well, stop it.” Ominis growled. “You’ve ruined it. And take that apron off, it isn’t yours.” He bellowed, perhaps louder than he should’ve been, given the late hour. He patted around the ground, trying to get a sense of the landscape. It all felt so different, everything familiar was missing. Noctua’s daffodils, violets, and her beloved bluebells were all gone . “What are you even doing out of bed?” Ominis barked. “It’s terribly improper for you to be out here at this hour.”

“I’m sorry,” The girl mumbled. “I could go to town, get some seedlings. It was just in such bad shape–”

“Get out,” Ominis hissed, waving her off. “Go back to the house, go back to bed, and stay out of the garden!”

She backed away. “I-I-I’m sorry. I’ll leave you.” Without his wand he couldn’t see her retreating form, but he could hear her bare feet thumping the ground as she ran.

Ominis took a deep breath. He knew it was unkind to have yelled at her—he didn’t even know the girl. But the garden was Noctua’s, no one else’s. It was up to her to decide what was a weed, what was overgrown, what to take away or prune.�� When Ominis was little, he only ever acted on her orders, making sure the garden was exactly to her liking. Noctua loved her little plants, each and every one, even if they didn’t have any magical purposes.

Life itself is magic, she once said.

But Noctua was dead, the garden was too neatly trimmed, and the snakes didn’t have a refuge to hide in. The house no longer had Aunt Noctua’s warmth; it no longer felt like her.

Ominis stayed in the garden and wept.

#hogwarts legacy fan fiction #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x oc #ominis gaunt x reader #noctua gaunt #marvolo gaunt

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81buttons · 3 months

Note

Haymitch's daughter falls in love with Finnick Odair while in the Capital

Of course no problem!

AN: I've decided to put a name to the main character in this story.

"A Light in the Darkness"

Finnick Odair x OC

summary: Where Haymitch's daughter falls in love and has a relationship with Finnick

As Finnick made his way through the training halls of the Capitol, he noticed a young woman with brown hair standing off to the side, observing the training sessions of each district representative. Intrigued by her presence, he approached with a charming smile.

"Hey, and who do we have here?" he said, his voice soft but full of innuendo.

Elara raised an eyebrow, regarding him with suspicion. "Finnick Odair, I presume?" she replied, her voice carrying surprising assurance for her young age.

"Oh, it seems someone did their research. Bravo, princess. What gave me away?" he teased.

"Your arrogant smile, I suppose," she responded, fluttering her eyelashes playfully.

If there was one thing Finnick particularly adored, as paradoxical as it may seem, it was someone who could hold their own against him. Accustomed to having all the women at his feet, he found it particularly enticing when a woman refused to be walked over.

"I see you know me, but darling, I still don't know your name," he said, inclining his head slightly.

Elara hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to give him her name. It was almost like making friends with the "enemy." It was already complicated enough as it was; Katniss, who had been chosen again, struggled with the idea of returning to the arena. It had been difficult enough the first time, so a second time… On the other hand, Peeta had not been chosen to participate in this new edition of the games; it was Haymitch, her father. When she heard his name come out of Effie’s mouth, her heart stopped, and then everything happened very quickly. Peeta approached, announcing that he was volunteering and Haymitch had to let the young man go in his place. After all these events and the press harassing the couple from District 12, Elara thought that it might not necessarily be a good idea to get closer to the others. After all, they were the games; they were adversaries, enemies. In the end, only one would remain.

However, in a way, it intrigued her, and she wanted to know more about the young victor. As long as he didn't really know who she was, there was no reason they couldn't talk.

"My name is Elara," she finally said.

Finnick nodded slightly in greeting. "Nice to meet you, Elara. I'm surprised it took me so long to meet you, such a charming girl."

Elara crossed her arms, unimpressed by Finnick's flattery. "I'm here to observe and learn, not to flirt with Hunger Games victors."

A smirk played on Finnick's lips. "I see. A woman with such a sharp mind is refreshing here."

"What, don't tell me you're not happy in the Capitol? You must have all the women at your feet," she teased.

Finnick froze for a moment, surprised by her direct question. "Oh yes, but I never lose sight of why I'm here," he said.

"To win," he finally replied, his blue eyes shining with a mixture of pride and a hint of sadness.

"I understand. Everything seems so normal and natural before we remember the true purpose of the games," Elara sighed. She had always known the games; they had taken too much from her: first her father, and now her best friend. She knew all too well the effect the games had on people.

Suddenly she saw her father in the distance, seeming to be looking for her. If he saw who his daughter was with, she was finished.

"Well, Finnick Odair, it was a pleasure, but I have to go."

"Already? But I don't even know why you're here, and when can I see you again?"

"We will see each other again, I'm sure. I'm really sorry, I have to go."

Then she left, leaving Finnick surprised, surprised by her and her vivacity, but surprised because he was smiling, and he smiled for several days in a row.

He wanted to see her again; he had to see her again. He wanted to get to know her. He didn't even know what she was doing. She had too strong a character to be one of the Capitol's women. So she must come from a district; was she also a tribute? If that was the case, Finnick didn't even want to think about it; he couldn't see or face her in the arena.

After several days, as he paraded on the chariot alongside the other tributes during the opening of the Hunger Games, his gaze suddenly fell on a familiar silhouette in the crowd. There, sitting next to the mentor of District 12, Haymitch, was Elara. Surprise and confusion gripped him. What was she doing there, among the spectators of the Capitol? And why was she next to Haymitch, the mentor of his adversaries?

For a moment, Finnick felt a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. He scrutinized Elara with troubled intensity, trying to understand her presence there. Then, suddenly, everything became clear in his mind.

"Elara...," he murmured, his eyes widening with understanding.

A wave of realization washed over him. She was Haymitch's daughter. That's why she was there, to see the tributes from District 12 participate in the Games. Finnick felt a surge of emotion engulf him, mixed with an inexplicable warmth in the pit of his stomach.

Amidst the cacophony and hustle of the Games' opening, their gazes met, and in that brief moment, Finnick forgot all his fears, knowing there would be something more between them than he had initially imagined.

She was stunning, dressed in a simple white gown, her brown hair cascading over her shoulders. Her attire had nothing to do with the Capitol's extravagant fashion, but she was naturally beautiful; Finnick had already noticed it during their first encounters.

After that event, their conversations became more frequent, and they found excuses to cross paths regularly. Sometimes, they would meet in a quiet corner of the Capitol, exchanging stories about their respective lives and laughing together as if they were the only ones in the world.

Although neither of them wanted to admit it at first, their relationship grew day by day, still in secret. Not a day passed without them talking, which began to intrigue Haymitch.

One evening, as they walked through the Capitol gardens, Finnick decided it was time to share his true feelings with Elara. "Elara, I need to tell you something." Elara looked up at him, curious about what he had to say. "What is it?" Finnick took a deep breath, gathering his courage. "I feel something special for you, Elara. Something I've never felt for anyone else."

"Finnick…"

They both knew it wasn't possible for them to feel this way. Not now, not there, not like this. Time was running out; Finnick would soon have to face the ruthless challenges of the arena.

Elara lowered her eyes, feeling a lump forming in her throat. She knew their time together was limited, and every precious moment they shared would be a cherished memory she would hold onto.

"Finnick... You know what awaits you. You know you have to leave soon…"

Finnick nodded, his blue eyes locked onto hers. "I know. But I want you to know that these aren't just words, Elara. What I feel for you, I've felt it since the first time I saw you. Since I met you, I've started dreaming of a life after the Games, a life I never thought I could have. Even in the arena, I'll think of you. I know... I know it's the Games, and there's a good chance that…"

Elara bit her lip, fighting back the tears threatening to fall.

"But I have a goal to achieve, for you, to win for you."

"I'll wait for you." Finnick gently cupped Elara's face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I love you, Elara. More than anything in the world." Their lips met in a sweet, passionate kiss. And as Finnick prepared to face the horrors of the arena, he carried with him the memory of this pure and unwavering love, a bright light in the darkness that awaited him.

#finnick odair #finnick x oc #fanfiction #the hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #haymitch daughter #fluff #love

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holewithinahole · 10 months

Text

The Spirit’s in It | Egon Spengler x nb!reader [2/3]

Summary: “I didn’t know psychology doctors also specialized in particle physics, is all.”

What you meant as a light joke to relax him did quite the opposite. He straightens, righting up his glasses one more pointless time. “I have a degree in nuclear engineering,” he states before walking out, leaving you confused and feeling like you’ve spent the entire time offending him unintentionally.

Warnings: dubious science, non-native writer, non-beta’d

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

And here's part 2! I'll probably post part 3 tomorrow so I can upload everything on Ao3. I realised this work is super underwelming compared to what I've been releasing lately haha But well, if one person like it that's all I'm asking!

I also love write all the different dialogues I have in mind for the Ghostbusters. It's like I can hear the voices of the actors in my head! It's all very amusing.

EDIT: I hate the third part so I'm rewriting it lmao

Fall, 1984

“What are they doing?” You mutter under your breath as you step into the psychology aisle of Columbia University. It’s the most animated you’ve ever witnessed Weaver Hall be.

Clutching your latest research papers, you stride to the paranormal studies labs, almost running into a green-shirted man in the process. You mutter a quick apology without looking back. Inside the lab, a few men are busy getting boxes on trolleys and carrying them out of the room. You clear your throat as you stand close to one of them.

“Excuse me, do you know where Dr. Spengler is?”

The man arches an eyebrow and shrugs. “No idea who that is.”

Putting down a box labeled ‘Electronics’ on his trolley with a loud crashing noise – which makes you wince, he starts making his way out of the room, smacking your flank in the process.

“You do know those items partially belong to the researchers working here,” you argue, clutching your side and standing in front of him. “You can’t just take them without permission.”

“Listen, I’ve been asked to remove this stuff, ok? So move out of the way.”

You swallow back your irritation, ready to conjure up every ounce of antagonism, but you’re halted in your need for confrontation by a giddy tone.

“Ah, Professor.”

You turn back to face an uncharacteristically smirking Dean Yaeger: a self-satisfied smug that would deserve to be wiped right out of his face. It makes you fear the worst.

“I’m sorry to announce to you that Dr. Stanz, Dr. Venkman, and Dr. Spengler have departed our university,” he declares, voice devoid of any empathy.

“Departed?” you ask. “Did they quit?”

“Oh no,” he laughs. “We’ve terminated their contracts. The psychology pole deserves better than three frauds ridiculing our university.”

It is, indeed, the worst that could happen. Baffled, you watch as the dean gives directions to the workers with a large smile. You’ve never wanted to hit someone more.

“Frauds?” you scoff, trailing behind him. “Dr. Stantz has a doctorate in parapsychology, so does Dr. Venkman. Dr. Spengler graduated from this very university and possesses several diplomas notably in nuclear engineering and psychology. What makes you possibly think they don’t deserve their places here?”

Another worker almost bumps into you. You glare at them.

“While I admire your lovely attempt at defending the undefendable, the decision is taken. This room will be emptied and used by actual scientists.”

The dean has started making his way out of the room, radiating self-satisfaction and throwing prideful looks at everything his eyes come across. You run after him, pushed forward by this revolting sight.

“Those files are their own research! You can’t take them away without consulting with them first! Yes, they were working for this university, but it’s still years of their work that you’re just confiscating.”

The smirk he gives you makes you regret your words instantly. “Since you’re so willing to maintain your questionable relationship with the three of them, you won’t see any problem with being entrusted with those files? I’m sure you can return them in person.”

“Questiona–” you stutter, but Dean Yaeger claps his hands obnoxiously.

“It’s settled then.”

Shit.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Accepting to take care of Dr. Venkman, Dr. Stantz, and Dr. Spengler’s stuff had been both your good deed of the month and a middle finger at the face of Dean Yaeger. Stuffing piles of boxes in your tiny car hadn’t been easy. Especially since the dean had decided to dump everything in front of the university, grinning all along, savoring his cruel little prank. It says a lot about the actual interest Columbia University has in the work of its researchers.

There were at least over thirty different boxes, filled to the brim with research papers, littered all around your apartment. Obviously, Yaeger had made sure to take back all equipment – broken or not, leaving you with pounds of paper stored in their cardboard containers.

That is to say, after a month, you're starting to regret it.

The cluster of your home is slowly but surely disrupting your peace of mind. It’s almost as if the air has been saturated by dust and cardboard specks, the lack of luminosity not helping. Browsing through research papers and ordering everything has been fun at first, your curiosity satisfied, but you couldn’t decently keep digging through personal stuff. Therefore, you stopped, and now you loathe the view of these boxes.

The problem is that you have absolutely no idea where the three men went, and even on your deathbed, no one would witness you ask the dean for information. You simply can’t believe they would just switch universities, despite it being the ‘logical’ course of action. Mainly because Yaeger would behave like a goddamn leech and talk shit about them ‘till all universities in the country know about their turbulent history. You hoped for one of them to drop by your department but no one ever showed up.

Opening the door to your apartment and immediately feeling dejected at the view of the stacked boxes, you let out a sigh, getting rid of your work clothes and falling head first on your couch. You grab the TV remote, zapping mindlessly before deciding to let the device run in the background as you stand up to prepare something to eat.

During the small amount of time you’ve spent with the doctors this month, you’ve learned more about spooky theories and proton cages than about their actual life stories. Well, sort of. Dr. Stantz was certainly the most open of them all.

“Have you ever experienced a paranormal experience before?” he had asked, one morning, as he leaned conspiratorially towards you.

“I don’t think so?” you replied.

He had then talked extensively about a plethora of incidents, most notably a sponge migration which he’d assured was clear proof of paranormal activity. You had simply nodded, not wanting to question nor deter his enthusiasm. You quickly noticed – despite Dr. Spengler’s eclectic choices of study which could testify about his interest in science in general, Dr. Stantz remained the most passionate of the two; his obsessions towards specific subjects going further than a simple craving for knowledge on a Sunday afternoon. He kept lending you books on the supernatural which you had to decline after a fifth one joined the pile on your bedside table. It made wonder if the man didn’t own a secret bookshop somewhere. It left you with a sour aftertaste, knowing you had some of his prized possessions in your bedroom but couldn’t return them.

Dr. Venkman was– well… he was something else entirely. If Dr. Stantz was eager to share clever insights, Venkman was eager to share made-up stories. The diplomas on the wall did attest to his title of ‘Doctor’ but he couldn’t be more detached from it. Oh, he was researching psychological phenomena alright, but never knowledge for knowledge’s sake or even out of pure professionalism as you could expect from a researcher. If psychology books were leafed through, it was for manipulation tactics and to weaponize the uses of sugary words. In that, he was talented.

“Is it my time to interview the case subject?”

It was your third time in Weaver Hall. Both Dr. Stantz and Dr. Spengler had looked up from their ‘ghost trap’ schematics as Venkman took place in the chair in front of you.

“You never do interviews,” Dr. Stantz had said, deadpan.

“I feel magnanimous today.”

Venkman was a case study on its own, a study you weren’t willing to commit to. You had trouble understanding his true intentions most of the time. In the end, he remained the most enigmatic of the three, despite a boastful, overly dramatic persona (All the world’s a stage!). In the end, you couldn’t genuinely despise the man when he was driving away nosy students and even nosier teachers with phlegm, or when, during his rare excursions in the lab, he would bring sweet treats and coffee.

As for Dr. Spengler, well… he was brilliant and devoted to his work. Alike Dr. Stantz, although sporadically, he would sometimes get caught in a tirade of explanations and postulates. Every day, you resented the apprehension that staved off your second meeting for he could make your neurons flare and burst into ideas that’d spin in your head fast enough to weave entirely new conceptions. You were somewhat drunk on the feeling, making you distracted which even your colleagues noticed, embarrassingly enough. It all ended up in a self-deprecating mantra that led you away from Weaver Hall and back to the arms of your students and lab partners.

Now, they are gone, and you have no idea how to reach out.

“Are you troubled by strange noises in the middle of the night?”

You know Dr. Spengler has spent his entire life either studying for new degrees or researching. Universities are probably all he has ever known, and that makes you wonder how he’s managing the whole thing. Maybe he was hired by another university; with his degrees, it shouldn’t be too hard, despite what happened. Damn it, you should have given either of them your number. What if he’s already halfway across the country by now?

“Do you experience feelings of dread in your basement or attic?”

What the–

You glide out of your kitchen, spatula in hand, almost falling as your sock-clad feet slide on the wooden floor.

“If you or any of your family ever seen a spook, specter–”

“You’re fucking with me.”

As the three of them stand inside your TV offering ghost-hunting services, it makes you wonder if they didn’t take things a tad too far – or too seriously, this time.

“Call the Ghostbusters! We’re ready to believe you!”

Well, you certainly don’t believe it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Phoning the place has been like stepping into another dimension. You’ve been bombarded with words you’ve never heard in any discussion, except in Dr Stantz and Dr Spengler’s endless chatter about compendia and other mystical publications.

“Is your haunting an apparition, poltergeist, phantasm, wraith, banshee, demon, specter, tortured soul, or–”

“Excuse me but–”

“For your information, we do not summon dead family members.”

“I’m not calling for that–”

“Wait, hold, please. No Dr. Venkman I haven’t–”

And that was the end of the conversation. It left you with a strong puzzling sensation and a definitive confirmation of your aversion to discussions happening over the phone. The secretary never called back and you were secretly glad, leaving you time to summon all of your courage and go there directly. Which you did… eventually.

Funny how when you’re not searching for something, it comes to you from every angle. After discovering the strange choice of reconversion the doctors took, you were bombarded by advertisements, radio talks and covers of magazines. The men have managed to put all of New York in their pocket, and half if not as many ghosts in their traps. You’ve never been a firm believer in specters but Dr. Spengler and Dr. Stantz had talked extensively about them and their prototype to finally be able to catch one. You’ve been more interested in the physics aspect of it all; Dr. Spengler has been more than willing to explain and you’ve been more than willing to add your own theories.

You now stand in front of their headquarters, preparing to face them. And once again–

“Hey, it’s you!”

–it’s Dr. Stantz who nudges you in the right direction. The man smiles widely, face darkened by car oil and dirt, a crooked cigarette hanging from his lip. His uniform is equally as dirty, and he looks more like a mechanic than a ghost hunter… but no one has ever been a ghost hunter before so, what do you know?

“Hi, Dr. Stantz.” You smile. “It’s been a while.”

You can see he’s struggling to not pat your shoulder in a welcoming gesture. “Man, we thought we’d never get to see you again! Spengs’ gonna be so happy to see you!”

Somehow, you have trouble imagining Dr. Spengler overjoyed or overexcited. It’s not in his character.

“Come on!” He gestures for you to follow him. You’re barely inside that he has already strode through half the hall. “Sorry for the mess! It’s so hectic these days.”

“I saw the articles,” you say, taking in your surroundings.

At the front desk sits a fashionable lady whom you guess to be the secretary. She’s busy answering the phone, munching at her pencil and looking exhausted. She barely acknowledges your presence as you follow Dr. Stantz up the stairs.

The man never stopped talking. “Venkman is out right now; he wanted to check on one of our clients. The woman had blood dripping from her chimney, can you believe that?”

You clearly have trouble to. The blood part, not the seducing clients part.

Upstairs is as messy as the hall if not worse. It rivals the state of Weaver Hall. Dr. Stantz throws his extinguished cigarette in a nearby bin before grabbing a paper napkin to wipe his oily hands.

“Egon!”

Dr. Spengler appears from behind a desk, light on his forehead, and invested in organizing a large number of electric cables. “Ray, I found the problem with the Aura-Analyzer–”

He pauses when he sees you, which you can’t say that you did, blinded by the light of his lamp. “Hi,” you say, smiling while protecting your eyes.

“Oh,” he answers, turning it off. “Hello.”

The uneasy silence that follows throws you all the way back to your first meeting as if a month of socializing had suddenly vanished in the span of four tiny weeks.

“Do you have issues with a ghost?” he ends up asking, putting down his torch.

Your eyes widen in surprise, unsure of how to react. Dr. Stantz, however, lets out a strong laugh so you chuckle awkwardly to echo him. “No, no ghost.”

“It’s crazy that you came in today,” Dr. Stantz says, throwing away the dirtied napkins. “We have to improve the storage facility and we need to be able to boost the grid while saving as much power–”

As he speaks, he disappears behind a wall, the sound of running water overlapping his words. You stay silent, watching Dr. Spengler rearrange electric cables until his friend emerges from the bathroom, clean-faced.

“But anyway, Spengs can give you the big tour,” he declares, grinning. “I have a check-up to do at Tai Hong Lau! If we’re lucky, I’ll come back with dinner as well.”

This time, he gives you a clap on the shoulder before running to the stairs but turning back at the last minute. “You’re staying to eat with us right? The owner has the best Peking duck in town, I’m sure you’ll love it! See you later!”

And then he’s gone, leaving you alone with Dr. Spengler. The distance separating you makes the room feels even bigger. You clear your throat. “I see you were able to create your ghost trap after all.”

He nods. “The day we were… dismissed, we managed to have enough readings on our first supernatural encounter to finalize the prototype.”

“Incredible,” you praise before realizing how uncaring you might sound. “I mean, I’m sorry about the whole Dean Yaeger situation.”

Dr. Spengler shrugs, stepping out of the corner of the room he crammed himself in. “There’s nothing you could have done to change the outcome.”

You decide not to comment. There’s a certain tension behind his words that makes you think he might truly have been upset about the situation.

“So, what’s up with the… grid?” you ask, looking at the different types of equipment stacked in the room.

He does sound relieved by the change of subject. “The Containment System is the storage facility we use for paranormal entities. Lately, the growing number of stored entities has put a strain on the main chamber.” As he explains, he searches in a pile of paper, extracting a large sheet. “The simplest course of action would be to enlarge the room but in case of an exponential increase in psychokinetic energy, it wouldn’t be possible to expand indefinitely and I’m not even addressing the energy consumption problem.”

You saunter closer to him. Half of your brain is focused on how easily he slipped back into his rambling habits. Perhaps not all socialization has been lost, you muse delightfully.

“What’s the worst that could happen? An explosion?” you joke, hands on your hips.

There’s a moment of hesitation. You stare at him in disbelief. “Don’t tell me–”

“The system has a high-voltage laser grid.”

You gape at him for a second before clearing your throat. “Uh, you’ll have to tell me more I’m afraid.”

On the table, he puts down what seems to be the blueprint of the storage chamber. You study it from the side.

“PKE bounds together the negatively charged particles composing a ghost. Our two laser grids…“ He ignores your bewildered expression. “…prevent the entities from escaping.”

He continues, “But we’re completely dependent on the city’s power grid.”

“No redundancies?” you ask, starting to see the problem.

He shakes his head. “We had no way to generate our own power supply when we moved in – we still don’t, and we weren’t planning on a strong surge in PKE.” There’s a tremor at the corner of his eye, perhaps from tiredness. “It makes us vulnerable in case of a power outage.”

It all sounds very hazardous. “I’m surprised you still haven’t had Public Services knocking at your door, with you powering high-voltage grids and…” You throw another look at the blueprint. “…a penning trap of this size.”

Dr. Spengler looks up solemnly. “We have been drawing attention.”

That’s one way to put it, you think. “Won’t you also have problems with your… residents in there?”

“It’s complicated to assess the level of ionization inside the chamber,” he explains, lost in his musings. “I do daily samplings to monitor psychokinetic energy but it’s a time-consuming process and as minimum as it is, there’s still a risk of slippage. Stronger entities could attack the grid from the inside, despite the threat of–”

He comes to a sudden stop. “...perhaps I can just show you. If you’re willing to.”

Blinking away the feeling that is suspiciously looking like infatuation, you smile, trying to convey what you hope is a convincing agreement. “Of course.”

Dr. Spengler nods, putting away the scheme of the Containment System as you stare, unable to stop yourself. Funny how history repeats itself, you think, already picturing how you’re going to neglect your work just to hear him talk more. You can’t bring yourself to care the right amount. The concretization of it all – this whole Ghostbusters thing – is exhilarating. It was fascinating when it was mere speculations but now it’s all real. Right here, in an old firehouse in the middle of New York, are new forms of life; new not in age but in terms of discovery. Your work has always been focused on the future, so this is just another step toward it. It’s – funnily enough, all thanks to the past: the dead, the undead and the spiritual.

“Say, Dr. Spengler.” He turns back. “Have you been able to learn more about that psychokinetic energy?”

“Ghost energy can take various forms. I don’t have a clear idea of what it could be yet.” He frowns. “Which makes the improvement of the unit even more complex.”

“If you and Dr. Stantz are ok with the idea,” you say, heart beating faster. “I’d like to study this matter further. Apart from the effect on the valences, there could be laser-nuclei reactions that are worth looking into, as well as interactions between the entities themselves. Perhaps, it’s too soon to theorize about potential ‘ghost particles’ though...”

Dr. Spengler looks pensive for a minute, and you’re afraid he’ll chastity you – gently, but he just walks closer, extending an arm. “I’ll show you the unit, and we can talk about a new schematic.”

The ‘we’ is a heartwarming promise. “Lead the way, Dr. Spengler.”

As you approach the stairs, he has a small smile on his face. “Egon, please.”

You’ll have to tell him about his stuff at your place someday.

#egon spengler x reader #egon spengler #ghostbusters #ghostbusters imagine #ghostbusters reader insert #non binary reader

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