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dawnagustd · 1 year

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hours || jjk

⇝ author’s note: she’s here, bitches!!!! lol thank you @m1sss1mp and @monvante for putting posters of this man all over my blog. this fic is for the both of you. thank you so much for holding my hand through it all. thank you @baljinciaga for beta’ing and screaming in the comments because you gave me the confidence to post this lol. listen, i’m rusty with the smut y’all so i apologize if it’s a mess. anyway, i hope you enjoy. this has been beta’d but there’s still probably some errors since i changed some things after it was beta read.

masterlist | permanent taglist form | read on ao3

drabbles: the unholy drabble | nails drabble | keeps

“So are you spending the night or…?”

Jungkook props himself on his elbow so he can see you. He uses his fingers to comb some hair away from his face, revealing his flushed cheeks and a horseshoe septum piercing. Ask yourself how many rounds you’ve gone, and you wouldn’t be able to give an accurate answer.

You came over at six, had a beer, did some karaoke, showed him some shit you learned in twerk class, and as some as the Netflix intro came through the tv speakers, your clothes were scattered all over his apartment and your ass was in the air while Jungkook fucked up your guts.

This is kind of a Wednesday night routine for you two. Has been for a few months. You’re just vibing and having fun with your hot neighbor, nothing serious yet. Right?

“As much as I’d like to stay—”

“Pussy.”

Your mouth falls open.

“Excuse me?”

He giggles until you reach for his hair and tug on his strands. You slide closer, trying to intimidate him but he keeps teasing.

“You’re pussy. You’re tapping out,” he repeats.

You scoff. “Boy, I’ve never tapped out a day in my life. Get the fuck out of here.”

Your thumb wipes the little smirk off of his face, but it returns seconds later.

“Your dick isn’t that good. Humble yourself,” you joke.

His cocky ass knows you’re dickmatized, but you still won’t admit it.

“Whatever. You know I’ve been holding back.”

“And who told you to do that?”

“You,” he answers. “Oh, Jungkook! Please, I’ll come!”

You smack his ink-covered arm drawing a chuckle from his lips.

“You’re so full of shit, Jungkook. Okay, let’s fuck again, and don’t hold back this time,” you request.

Jungkook begins shaking his head, laughing at your persistence.

“Love, the only one getting that kind of dick is my girl so…”

“So what are you trying to say?” you ask.

He shrugs. “You tell me. You know I’ve been trying to see about that.”

An eye roll from you follows his statement. “Whatever, I’ve already let you know how it is.”

“Yeah, but I wanna hear you say when you’re not stuffed with cock,” he gripes.

“Well, come here then. I’ll say it in your ear.”

You call him over using your finger, but he doesn’t move.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me, love.”

You throw the covers off of both of you, kicking the comforter until your legs are free. Jungkook doesn’t move initially when you spread your legs. He stays in a sitting position, letting his hair fall in his face while he smiles menacingly. His Calvin Klein’s hug his thick thighs, creating creases in his flesh.

“Well, show. Teach me. Make me aware,” you tease, using your foot to caress his calf.

“Careful, baby.”

His throat growls those words, his voice dropping octaves so low your pussy clenches.

“Why? Tired, hm?”

“You know that’s not it,” he chuckles.

You’d be lying if you didn’t admit your pussy gets wet just looking at him. Imagine being hot inside and out. That’s Jungkook. A gentleman, and the cutest weirdo immediately after. The sex is just the cherry on top.

You two just clicked, and the rest is history. Whether you need someone to act an absolute clown with or someone to fuck your brains out, Jungkook is that guy. You can’t keep your hands off of him, and he can never resist the chance to slide his dick in you.

“I don’t. So make me understand.”

“Ai yi yi,” he sighs. Then he looks at you and shakes his head. “...so much attitude.”

“Fix it for me.”

Jungkook nods then swiftly pounces on you. You start giggling, knowing you’ve struck a nerve.

“You’re pushing it, you know.”

“I don’t care,” you retort.

Jungkook smirks. “Oh, you will.”

He lowers his body, leveling his face with your pussy. You can feel small puffs of air leave his lips and come in contact with your center.

Jungkook brings two of his fingers to your entrance and prods teasingly, getting you riled up almost instantly. You grip the sheets and lift your lower body off the bed to chase his digits, but he doesn’t push in.

“Still wet for me?” he asks. Jungkook spreads your folds to examine your arousal, looking at you when he discovers that you’re soaking. “Damn, you are.”

The sound of your slick as your opening widens makes your cheeks burn with shame. You turn away, but Jungkook doesn’t like that.

“Uh, uh. You wanna get fucked, you gotta watch,” he says.

Reluctantly, you give him your attention and you immediately regret looking away. His messy hair and puffy eyes give you butterflies as you wait for his next move. You almost forget about how close his face is to your cunt.

Jungkook’s fingers slowly slip into your pussy. You gasp while they sink deep into your crevice. He knows the exact route and the perfect arch in which he must curl them to make your body quiver with pleasure.

Hearing your arousal filling the room entices both of you and Jungkook becomes eager to pick up the pace. Your hips buck and move in a circular motion to match his movements, creating a familiar build-up of pressure within your core. The sheets below you start to dampen from the juices dripping down your center.

“You’re so hot,” he whispers before he kisses your clit. “And you taste so good.”

Jungkook makes out with your bundle of nerves while his fingers pump in and out of your opening. His hair covers his face, much to your disappointment, so you gather it all and keep it contained in a makeshift ponytail.

Now that his face is visible, you can see the way his tongue swipes your pussy each time his lips part. You moan his name, swelling him with so much pride he can’t help but smile briefly. His fingers slide out of you but only so he can kiss lower and fuck you with his tongue.

The deeper he enters, the more pressure his nose places on your throbbing clit. His septum piercing tickles your center as he rubs his face in your pussy, creating a pleasant sensation that penetrates your core.

Quickly, you lose control over everything. You can feel your stomach tightening, hear your moans getting louder, smell the desire growing stronger but you’re unable to grasp the one thing you so desperately want. It’s so close, but then, Jungkook snatches it away.

“Fuck, you asshole!”

Jungkook suddenly stops just as you’re reaching your peak. He withdraws and leaves you a whining mess while he laughs.

“Oh, now I’m an asshole?” His smirk never fades while he removes his underwear and tosses them on the floor. “I think I’m a gentleman.”

He looks over at the nightstand and sighs defeatedly.

“Fuck, man.”

“What?”

“Out of condoms,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug. “It’s fine. I’m on the pill. We’re good.”

“Are you sure? I can just finish—”

“No, just pull out, dude. I wanna get fucked,” you insist.

“Well, yes ma’am. You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Jungkook hooks his arms under your thighs and pulls you on his lap. He keeps one hand underneath your thigh while the other one grabs his dick. You prop yourself on your elbows and watch as he strokes his cock a few times, using your arousal for lubrication before he aligns with your center.

The tip probes your entrance until it’s nestled inside and he no longer needs to hold his shaft. He redirects his attention to your clit, and he massages your bud as he buries his cock inside of you.

“Shit!”

Your back arches and your fist punch the bed. Inch by inch he fills your pussy until he can’t fit any more of himself inside of you. The fullness you feel from his girth leaves you breathless and panting.

“Still so tight,” he whispers. “...feels so good.”

Jungkook hovers over you when you lie down again and kisses you, leaving the taste of your pussy on your lips. His tongue slips into your mouth and arousal coats your tastebuds. Your moans are muffled but are still clearly heard. His name escapes your lips repeatedly as you beg him to fuck you.

“Ready?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

Another kiss graces your lips and then another for your chest. He moves to your breast and does the same to your nipples, but envelopes the right one between his lips and suckles it tenderly. Your arms wrap around him to bring him closer as he starts nibbling your sensitive bud with his teeth.

He starts to move, setting a pace that has your toes curling instantly. You bury your face in his dark strands and beg him to keep going.

“Jungkook, please don’t stop. It’s so good.”

“I’m not,” he promises, sending waves of vibrations through your areola. His mouth feels so warm and moist against your skin. Hair raises along your flesh caused by both the chill of the room and Jungkook’s gentle touch. It’s a contrast from the way he roughly thrusts inside of you, but it’s the kind of fire and ice that has your body yearning for more.

As if he can read your body language, he changes his position. A lewd noise pierces your ears when his lips release your stiffened nipple. The cold air makes your skin tingle due to the sensitivity and the presence of his saliva.

Jungkook wraps his hand around your throat, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. His fingers comb his hair away from his face, revealing his flushed face, his pierced lip tucked between his teeth. The intimacy of the moment intensifies the pleasure growing inside of you, and your watery eyes begin to produce thick salty droplets.

“Feel good, baby?” Jungkook quizzes. “Does it really feel that good?”

“Yes, Jungkook. It…”

Your voice is so weak and raspy. You have difficulty speaking clearly, and articulating your sentences. Jungkook is very displeased.

“Speak up,” he requests. He slaps your tits, leaving you trembling and hanging on by a thread. Your pussy clenches around him, and he responds by squeezing your throat. “You feel that?”

You croak out a response. The best you can with your airways being constricted.

“Good,” he grunts. “That’s how my dick feels inside this tight fucking pussy.”

He loosens his grip and air finally refills your lungs, making you lightheaded. Your head starts spinning, your vision becomes blurry, and slowly the familiar feeling begins to form within your gut. Grabbing Jungkook’s arm, you try to warn him, but you are immediately dismissed.

“Nope. I’m not done.”

Jungkook opens your legs wider and his thrusts deepen. It’s like he’s trying to fit his entire dick inside of you, but each time he runs out of room.

You can feel him entering your guts over and over. The blunt outline of his cock is faintly visible whenever it lodges itself in your womb. Your muscles clench tightly as you try your hardest to keep it together.

One thing’s for certain, he has been holding back. Now you’re addicted to this new side of him, and there’s no other way you want him to fuck you. It feels like no experience you’ve ever had; you can’t get enough, but your body can only take so much before you lose control.

“Ah, shit! You’re fucking tight.” Sweat drips from Jungkook’s forehead as he struggles to hang on. He’s drawing this out; savoring the moment just like you are, but both of you are nearing your peaks, and it’s only moments before you topple over the edge. “I want this forever.”

“You have it, though. I’m not going anywhere,” you promise. “I’m yours.”

“Oh, fuck.”

Jungkook’s movements stutter when he hears your voice speaking to him through your soft moans. Your words are like a match igniting a flame deep inside of him. He begins fucking you harder, like he’s on a mission to ruin you.

“Shit. Come on my dick, baby,” he moans, probably waking the neighbors. “Make a mess.”

At his command, your body gives in and chases the pleasure it’s been longing for. You scream his name like it’s the only word you know. Your soul leaves you lying on the bed and elevates to the ceiling, probably even further. You tremble and shake beneath him as the coil snaps inside of you, sending ripples of pleasure shooting through your veins.

Your arousal gushes out of you with enough force to push Jungkook’s dick out of you. He slaps your pussy repeatedly, milking you dry while he strokes his shaft. As you lay there, squirting out the last of your orgasm, you slowly return to your body, but you’re still basking in your post-sex daze.

“Flip over.”

Jungkook turns you on your stomach and straddles your thighs. He strokes his cock while he stares at your ass, still tender from all the spanking he did early. He slaps it with enough force to get a muffled moan out of you. Your head remains buried in the pillow because your body refuses to move an inch.

“Softest fucking ass on the planet,” he mumbles. “And all mine.”

You relax under his touch as his large hand begins to massage your flesh. You become more exhausted as the seconds tick by. Jungkook’s pants and moans fill your ears as he chases his high, and soon his breaths become shallower, indicating that he’s approaching his release.

“Fuck.”

Moments later warm droplets of his cum paint your ass while Jungkook cries your name. He plops on top of you, careful not to use all of his weight, and leaves kisses along your shoulder. When his breathing settles, he gets up and finds a shirt to clean your body. He covers you with the blanket when he’s done so you aren’t cold.

“Are you still with me?” he asks, and you giggle.

“I’m here.”

“Well, I wish you’d say something.”

When you turn your head in his direction, you find him standing there in all of his naked glory, his dick slowly deflating, but still standing at attention while he chugs down his leftover beer.

“Maybe you should drink some water,” you suggest.

He puts the mug down and raises a finger. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll be back.”

When Jungkook leaves, the door remains open and someone else enters the room moments later. You don’t even flinch when Bam jumps on the bed, claiming his spot at the end. You’re just glad he’s finally warmed up to you. At first, you think he was a little jealous, but you guess he realized that with you in the picture, he receives two times the love and attention.

Jungkook’s footsteps make their way down the hall and he’s shocked by the sight of his pup lying beside you when he enters the room.

“I see you two have finally become friends,” he points out. He walks over to the bed and gives Bam some love while he whispers to him. “Don’t steal my girl, dude.”

You giggle and shake your head, as if Bam would ever leave his side. You’ve noticed that he has been more drawn to you lately, but you think it’s just him getting used to you being around. He knows you aren’t going to steal his dad from him, so now he’s more open to spending time with you.

“Did you bring me some water?”

Jungkook nods. “Of course.”

He gives you the water bottle and you sit up so you can drink some. Jungkook sits beside you and waits for you to finish.

You know he’s about to ask you something, so you quickly gulp down your water to get it over and done with.

On cue, he speaks.

“You still haven’t given me an answer.”

“Ah,” you sigh. “I don’t know, Jungkook.”

“That’s not an answer. I mean no is fine, but I just wanted some kind of idea about where this is going,” he states.

You’ve thought about it, and dating Jungkook isn’t a bad idea. You’re just nervous because this is going so well and you don’t want to mess it up. However, the advice your friend gave you a week ago still plays in your mind.

“If you really need more time, it’s fine but I feel like you’ve been holding back too. I want you in my life, Bam wants you to be his mom, and—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt, fighting back a smile, but you fail.

“What is it?”

You set your water on the nightstand and grab his hand. You absentmindedly trace his tattoos, while you talk to him.

“I’m nervous because I don’t want this ‘honeymoon’ phase to end,” you start. You can see his shoulders droop because he thinks this is bad news. However, it's not. “But every day we grow closer, so why should I let my mind prevent my heart from being happy?”

“You are so fucking trashed,” he blurts out. “Did I really fuck you that good?”

“Jungkook shut the fuck up. I was trying to be deep. Leave me alone.”

You try to turn away and go to bed but he pulls you on his lap.

“Hey, I’m kidding. That was cute,” he says. “I got it. You like me, and I like you. Let’s just continue to take it slow.”

“Thanks.”

“Mhm. But just so we’re clear, you’re my girlfriend now by default because we just… Well, you know.”

“I’ll be that,” you reply. “As long as you’re my… boy boy b-b-b-b-b-boyfriend.”

When Jungkook rolls his eyes, you erupt with laughter, knowing he doesn’t want to admit he likes BTR.

“Whatever, go to sleep.”

“In my bed, or yours?” you ask.

“Don’t start.”

You both snuggle together on the dry side of the bed while Bam snores peacefully at your feet. Jungkook hugs you from behind and the two of you slowly drift off to sleep.

“Goodnight,” you whisper.

But your boyfriend has already tapped out. Looks like you’re the real champ around here.

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this story, please consider reblogging and/or leaving feedback.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #thekpopuniverse #bangtansorciere #bangtanbathhouse #kvanity #jungkook fanfics #fic: hours #sugakookitty

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auroravictorium · 6 months

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how to bug netflix 101

a few ideas/tips to put pressure on netflix to reconsider their decision, given the fact that a select few shows have had their fates reconsidered:

Keep Shadow and Bone & Six of Crows trending! Character names, 'No Mourners, No Funerals', Leigh Bardugo, and other key words might help too! And remember that the threshold to keep stuff trending gets higher the longer that words/phrases trend, meaning we have to keep it active!

Spam the Netflix title request form at https://help.netflix.com/en/titlerequest

with Shadow and Bone, Six of Crows, etc. At the very least, it'll inconvenience them.

Sign the petition at https://www.change.org/p/save-shadow-and-bone-a3b37712-c648-4b87-9bfc-8b8cd685c623

Fill their social medias with calls to renew. Again, at the very least it'll be annoying/inconvenient, but at least our voices will be heard.

If you feel so motivated, you can submit anonymous tips to publications and ask them to pick up the story (though there is no guarantee this will work). IGN, the Hollywood Reporter, Variety, and Deadline all accept anonymous tips without having to register or provide personal information.

UPDATE (16 Nov.) Send emails to the following people and let them know (respectfully) that we're unhappy with their decision and that they will be losing money as a result!

At the very least, Netflix has continually refused to listen to fans, even though we have shown that fandoms have the power to bring in lots of revenue; they seem to have forgotten who pays for their service and gives them the money they need to pay for the shows nobody has asked for.

Even worse, Netflix is holding the work of the writers hostage by owning the scripts yet refusing to produce them. Either Netflix needs to return the scripts to the writers, or they need to give the scripts to a platform who will actually use them and finish the story!

Industry-wide, there has been a repeated pattern of streaming platforms buying the right to a book or a series and then holding onto it without producing it or canceling it without finishing the story. This is similar to what 'patent trolls' do, filing for a patent without any real intent to use it. This is grossly unfair to the authors, not to mention the cast and crew whose livelihoods depend on a show surviving for longer than a season or two.

Leigh Bardugo deserves better. The crew deserves better. The cast deserves better. We the fans deserve better.

No mourners.

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7ndipity · 1 year

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Dating Namjoon headcanons

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, teeny bit of angst

A/N: I realized that I hadn't written anything for Joon in a hot minute, so let's change that, shall we?

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Dating Namjoon feels like one of those early 2000s romance movies.

Utterly frustrating but soo worth it.

He talks a lot of hype in his songs, but I think when he first meets someone he's really into, he's a fucking mess.

Like it's Joon, but it's Joon, you know what I mean?

Red ears, stumbling over his words(and feet), getting flustered every other sentence.

Probably walked into a wall while distracted talking to you.

Don't get me wrong tho, once he gets the butterflies to chill and gets comfortable, the rizz is BACK and in full force.

Big on eye contact

Stares at you with absolute heart eyes(if you've seen that clip of him watching Hobi from Bon Voyage, you know what I'm talking about)

But can flip the switch in the blink of an eye, and be looking at you like he's gonna eat you alive(we love a duality king)

Simp Romantic. Will randomly bring you flowers just cause he was thinking about you(but he's always thinking about you, so why was today any different?)

Writes soo many songs/lyrics about you, but rarely tells you about them directly. He just asks if you wanna hear something he's been working on, and then sits back and watches your faves as you catch the hidden meanings and references. At the end, he's just sitting there, grinning, asking "You like it?"

(Like, yes, I like it you fucking dork!)

Always remember important dates like birthdays and anniversaries( first date, first kiss, everything)

Museum and bookstore dates are a given.

Buying/sharing books with you is probably one his favorite forms of intellectual intimacy, because, for him, each one is a glimpse into your mind.

If you mention one of your favorite titles and he hasn't read it, he's gonna find it asap.

Would try to get you to workout with him and be gym buddies.(I don't know if I like or hate that idea tho?)

Random texts at 1am asking if you're up and wanna hang out?(may or may not be outside your place already, cause he's over-eager and forgot to text earlier)

Endless, late night talks about everything from music to the meaning of life to what jelly bean flavor is superior(it's watermelon)

Also random trips together. Could be to the beach, could be to Sweden, who knows? You bring out his spontaneity and are one of the only people who can get him to take a vacation anyway.

He is a workaholic though, so you have to look out for him sometimes, make sure he eats, sleeps, touches grass, etc.

You probably bicker and butt heads a lot, but y'all make sure it never gets out of hand and try to find a solution.

(Lowkey possessive, but won't admit it)

Not a fan of pda, but he *clings*.

He tries to be subtle about it, but fails because it's like there's a gravitational pull between the two of you from the way he's constantly within arm's reach wherever you are.

Same goes for when you're alone. He's not technically cuddling you, but he always somehow ends up pressed to your side or back, or has a hand on you in some way.

Another member of the 'Protective Squad'. Like, if anyone so much as looks in your direction the wrong way, he's got the death glare locked on them.

Pretty classic when it comes to nicknames for you. Things like 'honey', 'baby', 'jagi'. Adds 'my' in front of any of them when he's in the mood to fluster you.

Which reminds me, he is the BIGGEST FUCKING TEASE ISTG.

He knows exactly what riles you up, and then just gives you these soft, sweet little kisses like you're not about to combust. Has the nerve to then smirk and call you needy(I wanna fight him)

Finds the most random things you do attractive. The way you read. The way you make your coffee. The weird little face you make when your flipping through Netflix.

Although he seems a bit cautious, I actually think a relationship with him might move pretty fast. Like, he's fighting back from asking you to move in with him after five or six months type of fast.

Lives for domesticity with you.

Quiet, sleepy mornings together. Messy hair and glasses over tired eyes, resting against your shoulder as he brings you coffee while you cook breakfast.

I know he said he's not sure abt kids anymore, but I do see him possibly getting a pet with you to 'round out the household'. Something quiet and low maintenance though, like a couple hermit crabs.(would probably name one after a favorite artist/author and then name the other smth random like 'blue')

Again, I don't know how to end these. Just love him, please.

#namjoon scenario #namjoon fluff #namjoon #namjoon scenarios #namjoon headcanons #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts reaction #bts reactions #bts headcanons #bts x y/n #bts x reader #7ndipity

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splaede · 11 months

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AFTER DARK. Armin Arlert (CH. 5)

☰ pairings: Armin x Reader, Slight Eren x Reader

┌─ ✮⭒｡ story summary: Armin was tired of being seen as an innocent, goody-two-shoes, little flower boy. Instead, he wanted to be seen in a more romantic and…sexual light. You just couldn’t turn down a sweet boy like him, so you agreed to hone his charms and teach him special…skills.

And he turned out to be much more powerful (and hotter) than you'd ever expected.

└─ ✩⭒｡ story #tags: fluff, angst, smut, friends to lovers, friends w benefits, drama, jealousy, hurt/comfort, manipulative armin, virgin armin, loss of virginity, childhood friends, lots of tension, nerd armin, and then he glows up, love triangles, unrequited love, gaslighting, lots of buildup

☰ CHAPTER FIVE. armin's move

┌─ ✮⭒｡ chapter summary: The night at Connie's house doesn't go the way you expected.

└─ ✩⭒｡ chapter warnings: a little suggestive(?), petting

☰ table of contents | previous chapter | next chapter

It was Saturday again.

Everything between you, Armin, and Eren seemed to fall back to normal, just as they were before. And it was better that way, considering you’d have to see them soon.

Eren's phone call wasn't anything to stress over, but Armin's request on the other hand...

You couldn't just gloss over that so quickly.

But if you were to bring it up, what would that mean next?

Dim, closed-off images of last night resurfaced in your head—images of him, disheveled, strewn with sleepiness, tilting in so close to you as his warm breath fanned over your lips, all in a hazy order of events that you couldn’t force yourself to rearrange.

A slow, unconscious sigh escaped you. You needed to stop thinking about it.

Because in reality, you liked it.

You liked how tempting he looked in the dark—eyes half-lidded and attractive, shadows contouring his face—and how tantalizing the situation was, how intimate he made it.

The recent lack of love in your life must be taking a toll on you because you didn't mind doing…whatever that was with your long-time best friend.

All while you had a crush on your other best friend.

You were fucked.

"There's sushi in the fridge if you want some," Connie blurted, switching on the TV and collapsing onto his couch, where he watched you from your spot by the kitchen counters. "It's the good kind."

You had been grabbing a drink before Armin had invaded your mind, and you were glad that someone could finally push you out of your thoughts.

"Oh, do you want me to bring it out?" you asked, referring to the coffee table laid with plates of snack food.

"No, that's the good sushi. I only wanted to ask you."

From behind you, the shrill beep of the microwave resounded throughout the kitchen, followed by Jean's gruff, sardonic voice. "Don't fall for it. He's just trying to butter you up."

"Am not!" Connie rolled his eyes. "I'm sure doing it better than you ever can," he mumbled lowly.

You sent him a glare.

"You can keep your fancy sushi, Connie,” you playfully scoffed, moving towards his sprawled-out form on the couch and sinking into the cushion beside him.

Only a few of your friends were already here at Connie and Jean’s shared apartment for the planned hangout, and you were the third to arrive.

It was late evening, just an hour after sundown, and the slow warmth from the night outside bled into the living room's atmosphere. Beside you, Connie rambled about some show he watched as he carelessly scrolled through Netflix titles, the sound of previews playing loudly from the speakers. Across from you, Sasha sat curled into her seat while Jean griped about the food he microwaved for her from inside the kitchen, but he only went ignored as she cackled at something on her phone.

If you listened closely enough, you could hear Ymir sneeze from inside the bathroom.

You loved nights like these. It truly felt like summer, just you and your little group of friends. The picture was candid and carefree, a nostalgic reminiscence of your teen self instead of the adulthood you were approaching.

You hoped everyone would arrive soon because you were looking forward to this night for some odd, cheesy, unexplained reason.

At the thought of seeing Armin, your stomach churned. But like the invasive, overpowering person that Eren was, thoughts of him suddenly intruded your mind instead, and the feeling in the pit of your stomach only intensified. When you weren’t thinking of Armin, you were thinking of Eren.

Your phone lit up.

Two texts from Eren.

Of course. Speak of the devil—for the nth time again. He somehow managed to show up at both the right and wrong times. Every time the situation called for it, he always appeared.

Tapping on the notification, you were greeted with a video followed by a text message that read, “on our way.”

Our?

The video was his front view from the passenger seat of a car, the road and blocks of storefronts—a location you very distinctly recognize—moving past the window as the car drove forward. But what stood out to you was the little stuffed animal keychain that hung from the rearview mirror along with other cute decorations: a silly-looking My Little Pony plushie.

Was this Mikasa’s car?

A strange feeling grew in your stomach, twisting and churning until you felt your heart finally sink. You shouldn’t have been disappointed since they were friends and all, but you couldn’t help the little pang in your heart. If anything, this was expected of them, and you just happened to notice it more due to your recent confession.

That damn My Little Pony plushie.

You kept staring at your screen, long enough for Connie to peek over your shoulder.

"Damn, I didn't know you were a brony."

You quickly retracted your phone, whipping your head around. “Quit stalking! I'm not a brony. And neither is Mikasa."

"That’s Mikasa? Is she on her way then?” He punched your arm. “Finally!"

You shot him a perplexed look, confused at his odd show of excitement. "Don’t get too excited, Mr. Pissed-His-Pants,” you retorted sarcastically.

Connie’s face suddenly contorted to something mortified and alarmed, mouth agape with creased lines on his forehead. "You saw the picture? Listen, it’s not what it looks like! Sasha spilled her drink on me and thought it’d be funny to say that I pissed myself, I swear. Dude, Sasha needs to stop spreading that picture around. She lied to me, too. She said she didn’t send it to anybody, but as soon as Eren sent me that picture, I—”

Light knocks at the front door suddenly cut Connie’s rambling off.

Connie shot you a knowing glare, and his expression told you everything you needed to know.

“Fine, I’ll get it,” you huffed, standing up.

The doorknob wriggled under your fingers as you twisted it, and the door flew open with more force than you’d intended.

Armin.

You looked at him wide-eyed, more shocked that it was him in the flesh and not because you hadn’t meant to open the door so harshly.

He matched your surprise, staring at you with doe-eyed confusion, hands in his pockets, but it quickly morphed into a suave smile. You noticed he ditched his glasses today. Probably swapped out for contacts.

"Hey."

Armin looked you up and down, fleetingly, in the usual way that he looked anybody up and down.

But you swore it was different this time. A hint of something teasing laced in his keen pupils, a slight twitch at the corner of his lips.

Moving back from the open door, you cleared your throat. “Hey, Armin.”

He stepped in, just once, before running a hand through his hair. A nervous tick. He’d been doing that a lot lately.

“Armin?!” Connie blurted, dumbstruck. He scrambled up onto his feet and bounded over to where Armin stood, who only gave him a small smile. “New haircut? You’re sexy, man.”

“Thank you.” Armin laughed shyly, looking Connie up and down, but not in the way he looked you up and down.

“Woah, Armin!” Sasha, no longer glued to her phone, stood up from her seat. Next thing you know, she was grabbing onto Armin’s shoulders and squinting at his side profile.

“Fade so good she had to inspect it.” Connie snorted and slapped Armin’s back, hard, and when you were expecting him to jolt forward, he stood, steady, a glint of unfamiliar irritation in his blue eyes. Oh. You sometimes forgot how strong he was.

Sasha finally released her grip on Armin’s shoulders when Jean stalked out of the kitchen, saying, “You look good, bro.”

Connie sniffed. “I smell bromance.”

Jean was quick to retort something bitter, and then it was that same routine of insults and banter between the two. But your attention shifted to Armin, who watched your friends joke around with an amused crinkle in his eyes.

Sensing your gaze, he turned to look right at you, and before you could even speak, images of last night replaced his figure in front of you: that dark, hot, expression of his that you tried to bury. You attempted to speak again, but it was futile because you’d already forgotten what you were about to say.

“You okay?” He nudged you on the arm with the back of his fingers, concerned. “What are you thinking about?”

At that, your eyes widened. You couldn’t look at him anymore or you’d start thinking about him again. Damn him for saying that.

His brow lifted slightly. “Nothing bad…right?” he asked, cautious. His words sounded reassuring, but the sudden smile that crept onto his face said otherwise. It was almost as if he was teasing you.

And you should’ve been less obvious, but you quickly looked to the side in shame. It was weird seeing this side of him.

Did he know? As perceptive as he was, he still couldn’t possibly know.

Unsure of what to say, you rasped out, “No, nothing bad.”

A lapse of silence that bordered on awkward followed suit, but Armin was quick to change the subject. “Eren and Mikasa are on their way.”

“Oh. I know.” You paused. “Did he send you a video, too?”

He nodded. “Yeah, why?”

You peeked at your surroundings to see if your friends were near you, and to your relief, Jean, Sasha, and Connie were all huddled near the tiny dining area, far enough and loud enough for them to not hear.

Turning back to him, you shrugged. “Because I’m such a hypocrite. I’m over here worried about them being together and alone all the time, but you know, we’re doing that. They probably don’t like each other like I’m thinking.”

He nodded slowly, skeptically, then smiled softly. “Yeah, yeah. No, you’re right. It’s most likely nothing. You’re just…paranoid. Your brain is just making things up. That’s all.”

“You don’t sound too sure.” You chuckled, turning around and throwing yourself back onto the couch. He followed you and sat down, legs slightly spread with a clasped palm resting in between.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” Armin paused, not quite meeting your eyes. He looked away. “They don’t like each other.”

You doubted the confidence in his statement.

“That was the worst shit of my life,” came a voice in the hallway. Ymir walked out, wafting a hand over her nose. “Don’t go in there.”

Jean made a noise of disgust. “Gross. That’s my bathroom.”

Ymir stepped a foot forward before fully stopping, raising a halfway, accusing finger as she stared dead straight at Armin. “That’s new.” She spared a knowing glance to you, to which you furrowed your brows. “Trying to look good for someone?”

You put two and two together, immediately averting your gaze when you realized what she meant.

“What, no!” Armin shook his head. “I just—I just wanted to.”

She didn’t look too convinced, but before anyone could say anything, there was a knock on the door yet again. You nudged Armin.

“I’ll get it,” he announced.

It was Eren and Mikasa.

Unconsciously, your face lit up at the sight of Eren. He looked good, in the usual collectedness of his demeanor that contrasted the messiness of his tied-up hair.

His mouth opened, but for a second, the words died in his throat as he finally took in the sight of the blonde standing right in front of him.

“You cut your hair?! Since when?”

Mikasa peeked out from over Eren’s shoulder, brows lifting in surprise.

Armin sheepishly smiled. “Just recently.” He opened the door wider as he stepped back.

“And you didn’t tell us?” Eren raised a brow, smiling nonetheless.

“Surprise.” Armin’s smile multiplied tenfold, and he was all teeth now, grinning like he was proud of himself.

“I think it really suits you,” Mikasa added.

“Yeah, I agree.”

Everyone greeted the two, and there was a new commotion in the apartment space, bustling and familiar, a distinct aura that only seemed to appear when Eren walked into a room. Great, another dot to the list of things you liked about him.

Armin finally sat back down next to you, snug against your side.

Eren found a way to your other side, and when Mikasa sat down next to him, he scooted toward you, squishing your limbs together as he attempted to make room.

There was a moment of silent shuffling that everyone followed as Armin scooted further down to make space for all four of you.

You were now sandwiched—practically squeezed—between the two most conflicting boys in your life right now. On your right was the guy you liked, and on your left was your relationship mentee and potential—

Would you ever help me physically?

—friends with benefits.

It was even worse to actually think about it. You didn’t need to say it out loud for it to sound embarrassing. It wasn’t that having a friends-with-benefits relationship was embarrassing, but that it was with Armin Arlert. And it hadn’t even started yet.

You squeezed your thighs together.

“You guys wanna play a game?” Connie threw two controllers in your direction before picking one up for himself. He sat down on the adjacent couch.

Eren laughed out of his nose, retorting, “Well, you already gave us the controllers, so we don’t have a choice, do we?”

You watched again as Connie scrolled through a list of game titles.

But you were all too aware of the bodies pressed against you, shoulders caging you in, almost as if you were under them.

Feeling uncomfortable, you stood up. What you didn’t know was that at the other end of the couch, Mikasa shifted in her seat, which prompted Eren to scoot your way. And in the process of you standing up, Eren’s body knocked right into yours, catching you off balance. And then there was something firm beneath your thighs when you fell, nothing like the softness of the couch cushion.

Hands quickly came to brace your hips.

You were basically sitting on half of Armin’s lap, straddling his thigh as he caught you. Your hand instinctively shot out to support you, landing on his other leg.

“Oh,” you said before you even realized it. And the hands on your hips left as quickly as they came.

“Oh,” he repeats. “Sorry. Careful.”

You fully stood up now, sparing a glance at Eren like you did something wrong, but before your eyes could meet his, he abruptly turned away, like he was caught red-handed.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, embarrassed, but with your back to Armin and the delay in your response and the whole falling-into-his-lap thing, you wondered if you made it more awkward.

Because it definitely was awkward. Especially with whatever there was between you two.

You stalked into the kitchen and hoped that you’d find something to do.

“Y/N, can you get the good sushi?” Connie waved you off, not even offering you a single glance. Judging by the fact that he’d been oddly quiet, he probably hadn’t seen what happened.

You rolled your eyes but were thankful that you now had a real excuse to be in the kitchen.

There was a sudden wave of new voices from behind the front door, and a series of knocks followed right after.

Armin stood up again to open the door.

And as soon as he did, four people that you hadn’t been expecting walked through. Reiner, Bertholdt, Historia, and Annie. This was a perfect opportunity for Armin.

“Oh, hi guys,” Armin greeted, pausing, eyes panning over the blonde girl. “Hi, Annie.”

You chimed in a quick greeting, too, watching as Bertholdt and Annie took the seats where you and Armin once sat with Reiner next to Connie on the loveseat.

That left Armin without a spot, standing aimlessly, as he spared you a glance through the kitchen’s pass-through window.

The moment you made eye contact, though, he came closer. For a moment—and only a moment, your breath constricted in your throat and you stilled in anticipation for a reason you couldn’t even explain. Maybe because then you would be alone with him. Before you could process it, Armin was standing right next to you.

His lips parted to speak but closed the moment you tugged on his sleeve.

“Hey.” You pulled him deeper into the kitchen, leaning in. “This is your chance. Annie’s here. Talk to her, get closer to her…make a move.”

He visibly gulped at your words, shooting a wary glance to the side.

“But everyone’s watching.”

“That’s why you have to be subtle,” you suggested, to which Armin only raised a confused brow. “Sit next to her—like, really close. Maybe if we’re watching something, you could like, whisper in her ear. Or maybe teach her how to play a video game. Annie’s not with our group that much, so just make her feel welcome.”

“Okay. I’ll try,” he breathed, quiet, and you finally realized how close he stood to you and how close you had pulled him in.

Your mind wandered to him again—him asking you such an outrageous, yet tempting, question, almost kissing you, and being so intimate with you.

Now that you’d seen him in a different light, it was hard to suppress thoughts like these.

In a different light.

Wasn’t that his goal the whole time? To be seen more like this? You wondered if he even needed your help because, right now, it seemed like he had already achieved his goal.

Suddenly, he tapped your waist.

“You’re spacing out again.”

But you didn’t reply. No, instead—it was almost instinctive the way you did it—your gaze fell to his lips, bouncing right back to his eyes when you realized what you did.

His brows rose by just a fraction, and his gaze shot to your lips, almost like it was instinct. You watched his throat bob, just as breathless as you were, before his eyes flitted back at you again. There was longing in the way he stared at you, so evident and bright in his blue irises.

“Do you…”

He trailed off, an unsure look painted on his face.

This was really bad timing, but you were just so swept away. You don’t entirely know what or why, but it was along the lines of wanting to just kiss him—be close to him—or the thrill of just doing it behind everyone’s back.

“I know you want it,” he breathed, regaining his composure.

It was sinful. His voice dropped an octave, reduced to a raw whisper. You didn’t think he meant for it to sound this provocative and straightforward—or did he? You didn’t expect this, especially coming from him of all people.

It. He knew you wanted it. It wasn’t “I know you want to” but “I know you want it.” And with the way he spoke to you, it could mean a lot of things.

You swallowed the lump that was building in the back of your throat, taking a sidelong glance at the direction your friends were in.

The living room and kitchen were obscured by a wall, with half of it being a kitchen pass-through window. You were standing just to the side of the window, so if anyone looked in, they wouldn’t be able to see you two.

Right out of eyeshot and—hopefully—earshot.

You felt hands slide onto your waist, slow, delicate, and reluctant. Almost inexperienced, if you could put it that way.

And then you heard footsteps approaching.

Quickly pushing him away, you whirled around, facing the fridge directly behind you, and opened the doors in an attempt to look busy. The plate of sushi. Right. What you came for in the first place.

“You’re so obvious, Armin.”

You stilled for a moment, sushi plate halfway in your hands, because you recognized this voice all too well, even when it was hushed, and after a second too long, you finally processed the words. Wary, unblinking, you turned around, letting the fridge shut on its own.

Eren stopped to bend down and grab a water bottle, eyes locked on you the entire time.

“What?” Armin gasped.

“I know you like her.” Eren shrugged.

You looked at Armin expectantly, caught off guard by Eren, but you couldn’t see his face from this angle.

“Do you mean Annie?” you asked.

Eren was aware of Armin’s crush; that was common knowledge. She was the only person he could possibly be referring to. Unless he was talking about…

You really wanted to know what expression Armin was making, and your confusion only doubled when Eren’s gaze drifted to your form.

Unless he was talking about you?

“Nothing. You know what.” Eren’s eyes were still on you when he popped open the cap and took a gulp of his water.

“You could at least keep it down a little…” Armin cautioned, voice low in a whisper.

A haughty, coy smirk crept up his lips, not directed toward you, but to Armin. “You should at least make a move tonight.”

He shrugged again and stepped out of the kitchen.

“Um, okay. I will,” Armin answered, so faint it was as if it were to himself.

Eren didn’t spare a glance back.

You were standing there still clutching onto the cold plate of sushi, focused on the back of his head. “That was weird. Is he in on this?” Your voice dropped to the quietest whisper you could muster. “Does he know about our…”

“No, no,” Armin answered quickly, shaking his head as he turned to you fully. “It’s only between you and me.”

You muttered an “okay” before you moved past him and into the living room, but as you walked back, you let your head fall in the gutter, and you felt it again now—your heart sinking, stomach churning. The plate was cold under your fingertips, a sensation that brought you back to reality about what just happened. What could’ve happened.

Your lips pressed together on their own—in some shameful, self-aware way. Because your lips were just a second from being on his.

The living room filled your ears with blurts of cries and cheers of what you assume must be a really competitive game of Mario Kart. You placed the sushi plate onto the table, and someone screamed at you to not block the screen, but Connie was nowhere to be seen.

The seating had changed now: some of your friends had switched around, and the rest were missing.

But that wasn’t important. The only important thing was that someone left the spot next to Eren empty and the spot next to Annie, who moved to the other couch, empty.

A perfect setup for you and Armin.

Armin, who you had been getting a little too close to. Who you couldn’t help but want. You wanted him as much as you wanted to help him.

You slid in next to Eren, so naturally and effortlessly that when your thighs and arms met, he wouldn’t have suspected a thing. Because either way, this was normal; you were friends, and that should’ve been enough of a reason for you to be close to him.

In full swing, Armin followed right after, sitting next to Annie—not touching, but a safe distance between them. And for once, as you put the weird tension aside, you were content for the night.

As per tradition, Connie put on a movie, all lights turned off. This was the last movie of the night, a “really funny one” as quoted by Connie himself.

Every time you laughed, you immediately self-sabotaged and glanced at the loveseat, where Armin at Annie sat, brushing shoulders, to see if they were laughing, too. And every time, you heard it louder than your own. You were torn between supporting his advancements and indulging this sense of… selfishness.

You felt the same way about Armin as you do with Eren—felt this strange possessiveness. He was your best friend. And seeing him with someone else made you feel a word you didn’t want to think aloud.

Even though it was the whole point of your agreement, Armin was coming to you just to end up with another girl in the end.

They were close now, smushed together because Sasha wedged herself in the other end of the couch, but she wasn’t part of their world. Armin did exactly what you told him, talking lowly in her ear about God knows what.

You were spiraling. You thought of the almost-kiss from last night, the lap incident, the almost-kiss from earlier, and Eren’s odd comment, and you wondered if Armin was affected, too, just as delirious as you were right now.

Eren was lightly snuggled up right beside you and you to him. You had better things to worry about, like enjoying Eren’s closeness. Granted, Mikasa sat on his other side, but you needed to remember she was your best friend, too.

You turned to talk to Eren, but you were immediately met with green eyes, familiar and watchful. His eyes widened ever-so-minutely, frozen for a second, and flitted to a spot behind you. You didn’t even have to look to know who he was looking at.

Shit, did he catch you staring?

He leaned into your ear. “What are you doing for the rest of the night?” His voice was a prickle against the skin of your earlobe, all low and husky and warm.

“Nothing,” you whispered. “Why?”

“Just asking. We”—he gestured to himself, you, Mikasa, and Armin—“could go somewhere or do something after.”

“It’s midnight.”

“So?”

“I have work in the morning.”

On that cue, the movie ended, music blaring, as the end credits rolled in. Connie had been torturing everyone with movies back-to-back. The kitchen and living room were a scattered, trashy mess of cans and bottles, stacked with empty pizza boxes.

You stood up and stretched, and several of your friends followed.

Jean had already retreated to his room for the night, and some others had left earlier; you were just one of the stragglers that stayed behind.

The lights switched on with a flick, and chatter resumed. Judging from the tired sag on everyone’s faces, you knew this was the end of the night.

Armin was the first to go. “I’m going to head home now. Bye, guys!”

As soon as he finished that sentence, his gaze darted to you for a brief moment. And a little awkward.

You didn’t like this tension between the two of you. But at the same time, you didn’t hate it either.

Your friends said goodbye to him like it was the most casual thing ever, and then he was gone. Seeing him leave early, you felt…sad. Even though he was the one missing out, you felt like you were missing out on him. The movie just ended, but you planned to talk a little more before you left.

Eren came up from behind you. “So, you don’t want to come to my house? I’m gonna text Armin if he wants to, too.”

You startled before peering at him. As much as you wanted to, and as much of a tempting invitation that was to hear from Eren, you needed rest.

“For what?”

“Late night swim in my pool. Like we all used to.”

“But I have work,” you sighed. “How about tomorrow?”

He sighed, too.

“Fine.”

You helped throw away the main horde of trash, because knowing Connie and Jean, they probably wouldn’t clean it up until the next morning. Or the next.

The moment you said your goodbyes and closed the door, you were ready to unwind from all of the little things that happened.

But before you even got to your car, you spotted something.

Was that Armin’s car?

From what you saw from his window, Armin only sat there, still and contemplative, reclined against his seat, for a reason you didn’t know except that it was just like him to do so. You wondered why he hadn’t driven off yet.

He must’ve caught your reflection in the side mirror because his shoulders jolted in surprise, and he turned to you with an expression that melted from listlessness to outright relief. The window rolled down, and you greeted him with a smile that he reciprocated a little too quickly.

“Hey. You left so fast. I still wanted to talk to you,” you said. The scent of his cologne wafted to you in an almost comforting yet overwhelming way, but you ducked down to lean further into it.

He sat up straight, and his head came closer to yours as a result. “Really?” It was boyish—the way he said it, soft and almost sad. “Then…what are you doing for the rest of the night?”

“Nothing,” you replied. “Going home.”

“Can I come over?”

You shot him a look of surprise. The skeptical part of your brain was nudging you, asking you how such a good opportunity like this was actually presenting itself to you. But the giddy pounding in your heart was desperate to let something good happen—to resolve this weird magnetism.

“You want to?” You sucked in a breath. Now you felt bad for saying no to Eren, but you knew that swimming at his house would mess up your sleep schedule even more. “Okay, but you can’t stay for long. I have work in the morning.”

As long as he stayed for just a little, it’d be fine.

“Okay.” A flush of pink steadily rose to his cheeks. “Thank you.”

The whole walk back to your car—no, the whole drive back to your apartment, you were reeling in disbelief. Because you knew something was bound to happen and he was going to ask more from you and the kitchen situation from earlier was left unspoken.

You arrived and piled out of your car. In the distance, he parked and quickly hopped out, jogging to you.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not bothering you with this. I just…” He trailed off. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Oh yeah, how’d it go with Annie?”

“It was fine. She’s hard to open up. I think I was just saying the wrong things.”

“No, no, I can tell she’s just a reserved person. Did you take my advice from yesterday?”

“Um, yeah I did. I tried my best, at least, but I felt like I was overly nice.” He chuckled dryly.

“It’s fine. At least you’re one step closer.”

He hummed in response, shrugging, watching you fiddle with your keys in the doorknob. You both got a whiff of warm apartment air as soon as it unlocked. It was dark and empty; your roommate wasn’t returning until tomorrow.

His hands found purchase in his pockets, eyes looking around idly. “Wow, I haven’t been here in a while.”

“Yeah, sorry. My roommate is always home, and she doesn’t like guests. But she’s not home right now.”

You immediately curled up into your couch and closed your eyes, sleepiness washing over you like a tide. The cushions dipped beneath your body as Armin took a seat.

You could fall asleep like this. You’d even let him sleep right here, too.

It was silent for a while. The more it prolonged, the more you started to tense.

His voice cut through the silence like a knife. “Hey, sorry for earlier. Back at Connie’s. I don’t know what came over me.”

Your eyes shot open, but you stayed curled up, quiet, because you truthfully didn’t have an answer. This conversation was bound to be brought up. You slowly untangle yourself from your position, sitting up.

“No,” you denied. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me either. You don’t have to apologize at all.” An instinctive gulp hit you quickly and forced saliva down your throat, and you were just there, choked up over your choice of words.

“I—I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything. That was really unlike me. It’s good that…it was you, at least.”

Whatever force came over him at that moment…was working. His advances were working. All Armin needed to do was to let that confidence take him over again—to let himself be bold. You shook your head. Neither of you looked at each other—just sitting, talking. And there was something thick and unspoken in the air, resting heavy on your shoulders.

“Armin, I don’t even know why you need my help. I can already see you in a different…” You backtracked, stepping over your words. It was hard to be transparent without making things weird, to salvage as much friendship as you could. “I mean, whatever you’re doing, it’s working. You seem like you know what you’re doing.”

Armin laughed quietly out of his nose, not out of amusement or mockery, you thought, but relief. “R—Really? I don’t know what I did, it just felt right, bad timing and all,” he said.

“It’s fine. It felt right for me, too. You can do anything—” To me. You stopped. “Um, what I—what I mean is, think of it as an extension of our agreement. We can try anything you want. For educational purposes.”

You mentally cursed yourself at your horrible attempt at saving yourself as heat rose to your cheeks. Everything you’d been saying sounded like a confession.

From the corner of your eye, you could vaguely see him dropping his head, face scrunched into a sheepish frown. “Are you sure? What I did wasn’t weird or anything, right?”

This time, you finally faced him. “If I was uncomfortable that time, I wouldn’t have leaned in…I don’t mind at all.”

He laughed again, but this time, it rang sweetly, bashfully. “Okay, um, then can we—can we try something?” he stuttered, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, the certainty leaving his voice as he spoke.

Your heart thumped in your chest as the air surged out of your lungs. You remembered last night, an exact replica of this moment. Dark, late at night, and alone with each other. And he again threw you such a hard request that had your stomach flipping.

Taking in a deep breath, you asked, “What do you want to try?”

He was looking at you now, and God, his eyes were so innocently bright, peering at you with so much eagerness that you wondered if he would always look like this when…

“Teach me how to kiss.”

It came out in a needy whisper, voice fracturing, as if he said it all in one breath. The tension in your chest burst and blood rushed to your head like a storm.

It was one thing to just be kissed—to let it flow in the feel of the moment—and another to be asked for it.

The weight of his words laid on you now, expectant. He came to you for this, and who were you to refuse him?

“S—Sure. We can.” So you shifted closer to him, and you swore the air got heavier, harder to breathe. Your heart felt like it was wrenching itself out of your ribs, beating so hard that it filled your ears.

His eyes bored into you still, unchanging, glossed over with a look of desire that looked so tempting. The blush on his face darkened when you placed a hand on his face, nearing closer and closer. He was soft under your touch, warm and ablaze as you lightly swiped your thumb across his cheek.

“Try to match me, okay? We can stop any time.”

With the final push, you pulled him in.

Your lips slotted against his, slowly and methodically, like you were both trying to get the feel of things. His lips were soft, pliable, and you could feel their plumpness as you pressed into him, urging him on. He moved hesitantly and gently, slower than you, but somehow matching your pace perfectly and so fittingly. You began feeling lightheaded the wetter the kiss became because you couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

You could sense his arm reaching around your body, stopping when his hand grabbed your outer thigh, and in one swoop, he pulled you into him, closing the remaining distance between your bodies. Now, your side was pressed up against his, heat radiating off of him, almost scorching you, reminding you of how close you two were—physically and emotionally.

And then you heard shuffling and the quietest, littlest click, like…like he was silencing his phone.

The kiss was still slow and steady, pushing and pulling, and you could tell he was gaining more confidence. Suddenly, he tilted his head further, pushing, which caused a hitch in your breath. His hand found its way to the back of your neck. He was taking the lead now.

Your face was flushed with heat and your chest was heaving. Lost in the haze, you started lightly sucking on his lips.

It was like this for a while. Sensual and solid and rhythmic as your lips moved in perfect tempo. He was good. A fast learner that took initiative.

You didn’t like having to twist your head like this, so with a bated breath, you pulled away and stood up, hoping for the best. Confusion swam blue in his eyes as he watched you move, like a puppy. Cute.

Lifting your knees, you clumsily scrambled onto his lap, hands gripping onto his shoulders. You refrained from sitting too close because too fast, you thought, too fast for the current lesson and too fast for the anticipation already building in your stomach.

But your plan quickly went out the window because you somehow, somehow, slipped a little too far, inches away from his crotch.

He inhaled sharply as his legs spread wider to support you and his hands instantly grabbed onto the base of your waist. The force of it pushed your shirt up a little, revealing the tiniest sliver of skin.

This reminded you of when you fell into his lap, except this time, you were straddling both of his legs and facing him, and the feeling was nothing like the adrenaline from before. It was all-consuming with desire and just him him him.

“You’re shaking.” You squeezed his shoulders, but you swore you were shaking, too. “Breathe and relax. It’s just me.”

It was ironic; he was nervous now, when before at Connie’s apartment, he wasn’t.

Armin breathed out a shaky laugh, not daring to meet your eyes but rather on a spot on your neck. “I know. It’s you that makes me nervous.”

You couldn’t fight back the smile that crept up your lips, the beat of your heart, and the warmth that traveled up your cheeks.

Looking at him, you noticed it now. The feverish tint of red on his cheekbones and the blown-out pupils, eyes lidded and so dark in this lighting that they almost looked gray. You wondered what you looked like to him right now.

His arms unexpectedly wrapped around your waist, tugging you all the way in until your chests and torsos were flushed against each other and your noses touched. He really did it now.

“Will your roommate be home soon?”

Oh, that was bold. That was bold because he looked up at you with those eyes and pleaded with that voice. You peeked at the time on your living room clock. Just a little past one in the morning.

You weren’t getting any sleep soon, you realized. You remembered Eren—remembered how you declined him because it was late, but here you were.

When Armin didn’t receive an answer, he caught you off guard with a tiny peck to your lips.

You gulped.

“No.”

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☰ taglist: ✩⭒｡ @rinsie @tengensgirlfriend @ela-dahe @his-brats-fantasies @genderfluid-anime-goth @alison-renee @kanekisfavoritegf @desireness @juiceboxreads @cyphdaze @herequeerandarmedwithaspear @v-lleitie @chscklvr @sadwhorehrs @greeniegreengreen @iamstraightcis @sea-you-in-paradise @lazullywinter @ihrtjere @benwishaw @sad-darksoul @tojifushiguroapologist @nae-babi @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @izuoyarmin @zzzombiie

#armin x reader #armin x you #aot #snk #armin arlert x reader #armin smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #armin arlert smut #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #armin arlert #eren yeager #aot smut #angst #nerd armin #attack on titan x reader

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hozierandco · 10 months

Text

Callum Turner x Reader // Phone Sex

A.N: Very smutty. Anonymous requested phone sex, there it is.

Plot: As Callum starts the shooting of a new feature film, he feels very horny. His girlfriend too. Phones might be the key to their problem.

Callum had just finished packing his suitcase when Posy, his pug, entered the room. As usual, the dog smelled that he would be leaving for long enough for her to miss him. She lay her pink nose on his thigh as he had kneeled on the floor to pet her. Y/N was witnessing the scene while folding the clothes that had not fit in the suitcase. She too was starting to feel the weight of the departure on her shoulders.

Y/N and Callum had been dating for four years and were engaged for three months but it still was harsh to see him leave, even after all those sets and award shows he would attend by himself, sometimes on another hemisphere. Once Posy had had her share of hugs and pats on the head, Callum turned to his girlfriend. He reached out for her, grasped her hips to bring her closer to his chest and lifted her chin as she was looking at the floor with a tear by the corner of her eye. He placed a kiss on her lips as gently as a dove landing while whispering in her ear: “You’re the love of my life. I’ll be home soon, darling!”

Though the distance between the two of them for the upcoming weeks was shorter than usual as Callum was going to Belfast and Y/N was staying in London for her own job, the couple felt terrible about it. Y/N accompanied Callum to Heathrow and watched him check-in. He waved goodbye at her behind the high wall of glass and was soon nowhere to be found.

***

“I’ve arrived sweetheart and I already miss u xx”, Callum texted as he landed at Belfast airport.

Y/N read that text over and over again, as she was preparing some Earl grey. She muffled herself in some blankets that still smelled like her lover and played some TV show on Netflix. She had no idea what the plot or the title to that show were as she was focusing mostly on her dog and phone.

Y/N had always needed some time to accommodate to Callum being away. She knew that in a few days, she would be able to socialise with her friends again and going for drinks with her colleagues after work but as for tonight, she felt no energy and fell asleep rather quickly after.

When she woke up the next day, she emerged with some notifications on her phone. Along with spams on her mailbox, she had received two texts from Callum:

// 07.23 am - Callum // Hi darling, hope you’re ok. I feel like shit, missing u like crazy

// 07.31 am - Callum // Forgot to tell u just how much I adore u

His first text was an understatement. In fact, Callum had not slept much the night before as he had kept on thinking of Y/N for most of the night. He missed her habit of making up (terrible) jokes in all situations, her Earl grey which was like a drug to him, and also the intimacy the two were sharing.

Usually, Callum was dealing well with the lack of sex his job could come with. Usually, he was fine with onanism and some sexting with his girlfriend. But ever since the two of them had gotten engaged, and for a reason he ignored, the sex had become amazing. It was incredible before the engagement but now it was out of this world. And they had not been separated ever since the engagement party.

Needless to say, Callum was getting very much horny just thinking about her girlfriend being naked or touching his chest. By 2 pm, he took a break to go get a lunch and enjoyed that time to text Y/N.

// 02.08 pm - Callum // I miss you and your body

When Y/N read that, she was relieved that she was not the only thinking that as she had this thought and this thought only on her mind. She caught herself daydreaming of making love to Callum during a meeting in the morning and she could not help but to imagine what it would be like to have him. The two of them had had sex before going to the airport, so only a few hours prior but it was difficult not to imagine something else.

// 02.54 pm - Y/N // I wish I could be yours too

// 04.11 pm - Callum // How about I call you tonight to get it settled?

Callum had never imagined suggesting something as crude as that. They had never thought of having phone sex but desperate situations call for drastic remedies, he thought.

// 04.48 pm - Y/N // I dare you!

Y/N could not quite believe what she had just read as Callum was not the resourceful when it came to sex. His education had made him rather shy to talk about the subject, even more so to initiate it. But Y/N was willing to give it a try.

// 05.02 pm - Callum // Is 10 tonight fine by you?

// 05.07 pm - Y/N // Yes! Can’t wait!

Y/N was feeling a sexual tension growing as she was imagining the call and she was glad she could clock out from her dayshift and go back home to make herself comfortable. As soon as she arrived, she rushed to her closet to pick fancy underwear. She knew exactly which ones were driving Callum absolutely crazy and gazed in the mirror at the beauty she had in front of her. Red truly was her colour, she thought.

After running some errands and making her some food, she felt as though she could start the session on her own and started moving her hands below her trousers but then she received a call from Callum.

// 09.56 pm - Call entering: Callum //

“Hi darling, I’ve waited so long for this…”

“Hey Cal, getting horny much?”

“You have no idea. It was tough concentrating on my script with you on my mind”

Y/N lay in their bed, her eyes facing the ceiling and one hand on her chest, actively searching for her breasts. By doing that, she got the camera rolling and asked for FaceTime to get started.

“Ooh, I see you put on that naughty bodysuit I got you, huh? You know it drives me insane to see you wearing it”

“Take a wild guess as to why I put it on then”

“Good, I see you’re as excited as I am”

“You have no idea what went through my mind all afternoon. All the indecent stuff I was thinking of that got me blushing”

“Hmmm”, Callum slightly moaned through the phone.

“What would you do to me if you were in London right now?”, Y/N asked as candidly as possible while she ran her other hand on her thigh.

“I would bite your lips with my teeth and then I would lick your tits, making them as red as your gown”

“Would you allow me to touch your chest back?”

“Oh darling, I would allow you to do everything”

“Touch your chest then”, Y/N ordered.

“We’ve got the right to order stuff now? If so, play with your tits. Show me how red they’re getting”

Y/N obliged as Callum slid his hands under his shirt.

“Take your shirt off. I want to see it too”

“Commanding, much?”

“I thought I had the right to ask you anything”

“Hmm, sure. Anything for you”

“Touch your thighs with your other hand so we’re equal”

“You’ve been touching yourself, haven’t you, huh? Couldn’t wait for me”

“Didn’t make myself come though. I can’t wait for you to do that to me”, Y/N replied.

“That bodysuit is fine but you know what I’d love to see even more?”

“Let me guess”, Y/N said while taking off one strap of the discussed piece of clothing.

“That’s right, take it off so I can admire your gorgeous body. God! You’re fucking hot like that too”

“Get higher with your hands. Show me how hard you got, pretty boy!”

Callum took off his trousers and a bulge could be seen from his underwear.

“I would do anything to play with it right now. But for now, you’ll have to do it for me. Stroke it slowly”

“I like that bossy tone of yours. Do you want me to remove my boxers for you?”

“Huh-huh. Let me see what my cunt is missing”

Callum took off his underwear, unveiling a boner that he had had for a good amount of his day. He gently began touching the length, imitating the back and forth movement of penetrating Y/N.

Y/N could feel her loins getting wet by the second she noticed his movements and mostly when Callum got to moaning unintelligibly words that sounded like pleas. She reached for her labias and grazed the surface, with Callum’s cock as sole thing on her mind.

Callum sensed some pre-cum on his fingers as he was getting close to the edge. He asked between two moans “I want to see you getting wet for me. I want to imagine myself fucking you”

Y/N approached the phone to her thighs and showed him how her fingers were taking care of the pond between her legs.

“God, Y/N! You’re so fucking hot! I wish I could come inside you”

Y/N moaned at the suggestion. She too was wishing for that. To have her pussy circling his cock so tight that she would feel every drop dripping out of it.

“Keep playing with yourself. I’m gonna fucking come”, Callum warned as the veins of his cock were showing on screen.

Callum stroked harder and harder, feeling a near release as he grabbed a pillow near him to press something.

“Y/N, fuck!”, he moaned as his cock emptied on a towel. He gasped for air as he came back from his ejaculation.

Seeing that, Y/N wanted her share to and asked Callum to talk to her.

“When I come home, I’m gonna lick every part of you and fuck you so hard that I’ll make you moan the way you just made me come. Think of your fingers as though they were mine. Play with yourself, baby. I love that sight”, Callum could not stop talking as he felt his cock wanting a second round by just looking at Y/N touching herself.

Y/N put her fingers as instructed by Callum, playing with her pussy with a rapid pace. Though she could not comprehend most of what was happening, she sensed her breathing growing heavy. A few moans escaped her mouth before she ultimately cried out “You’re gonna make me come, Cal”

“Good. Carry on, I want to hear you moan louder”

“I’m…”, Y/N hardly found a way to express herself as she hit a spot Callum knew by heart would make her flail.

“You’re so hot when you come for me”, Callum snickered as Y/N was done with exhaling after having come.

“I’m still waiting for the live version of that. But I guess we could do it every day before you’re coming back”

“I wouldn’t mind”, Callum commented.

#callum turner x reader #smut #fanfic #callum turner #fantastic beasts #war and peace

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thejakeslayla · 7 months

Text

╰─▸ ❝ distance ❞ - ,, park sunghoon

pairing bf!sunghoon x gn!reader ୨୧ genre fluff, slight angst? ୨୧ wc 1k ୨୧ req; prompt 24 (deciding on a list of Netflix shows they will only watch together); dialogue 41 (“you’re just the cutest.” “you’re the only one who is allowed to say that.”);

you settled in, making yourself cozy under the blankets, propping your head up with pillows, your phone now in your hands. the clock struck 10 pm, and you eagerly anticipated a call from sunghoon. it had been his second week on tour, and you were longing to see him again.

as you scrolled through twitter, you watched clips of your boyfriend from today's concert. after a while, you opened your clock app to check the time in sunghoon's current location. just as you were about to click on the city he was in, his name and a cute picture of him smiling popped up on your screen. you glanced at yourself in the preview and answered the call.

"hey, y/n!" he exclaimed loudly, his still-sweaty face appearing on your screen. you could hear the sounds of the rest of enhypen in the background, indicating he was still backstage.

"hi, hoonie. how was the concert?" you asked, secretly admiring his face. suddenly, his video paused, and you furrowed your eyebrows, feeling confused. it soon resumed, and you saw niki's face.

"y/n! i missed yo–" "hey, niki! give it back!"

you laughed at niki's face. "riki, give sunghoon his phone, please," you requested after a few seconds of the younger member dodging his hyung.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry about that," sunghoon said after getting his phone back. "he's hyperactive after concerts, he gets the zoomies, y'know," he explained, and you nodded.

"i've already changed, just waiting for the car," he added, moving the camera down to show himself sitting with sweatpants and an oversized hoodie.

"looking good, baby." you smiled at him.

fifteen minutes later, sunghoon arrived at the hotel and instantly flopped down on the bed. you were used to seeing him like this, not only after concerts in seoul but also during calls, that slowly became your routine. he always called you as soon as he could and stayed on the call until one of you fell asleep.

"before the concert, i saw this new movie trailer," he broke the silence, lifting his face from the pillows and now looking at you. "we should go see it."

"we also have to finish the other million movies we haven't watched," you replied. "at this point, a good list would be nice."

upon hearing your words, sunghoon gazed at something out of your view, deep in thought. "you know, that's not a bad idea? as soon as i'm back, we should have a movie marathon."

you placed your phone down, hearing sunghoon's muffled "hey!" as you grabbed a notebook. then you adjusted your phone so he could still see you and looked at him.

"give me some suggestions, and i'll note them down."

he began listing some movie titles you were familiar with and others that were new to you. when you heard one of them, you paused.

"no, absolutely not. we're not watching that," you protested, and he raised an eyebrow.

"what do you mean? it's a good movie," he argued, and you shook your head.

"hoonie, that was the most boring movie i've ever seen."

"it's just your bad taste," he teased. "okay, if you have better movie taste, enlighten us, y/n."

"okay," you began. "so, my first suggestion is 'yuri on ice.'" you looked at your phone, waiting for sunghoon's reaction.

"oh, you think you're sooo funny," he said in a monotone voice, which made you laugh.

you couldn't see it, but the corners of his lips curled up as he watched you genuinely laughing. it warmed his heart to be the one making you laugh like that.

"you're just the cutest when you're like that, you know?" you said after a minute or two of laughing.

"you're the only one allowed to say that," he replied, leaving you feeling flustered. you put your head down, hiding your face in the notebook you had been writing in.

"y/n," he whined, "let me see you."

"no, i'm a mess, and it's your fault," you said, pretending to be offended.

"i wish i was there to see you," he almost whispered, though your phone was on max volume. you lowered the notebook and looked at him.

"what did you say?" he noticed your face peeking at him, and now he was the one feeling flustered.

"i just wish i could be there with you. i miss seeing your face, feeling your body close to mine, i miss kissing you, watching those silly movies with you, holding your hand," he said after a few seconds of silence, as if he were mustering the courage to say it. "i miss you."

you couldn’t help but feel tears welling up in your eyes, you missed sunghoon as well, so much it was painful. he quickly noticed your tears.

"hey, love, please don't cry. we'll see each other soon, okay?" he reassured you.

you nodded, wiping away your tears, but it was pointless as even more escaped your eyes, slowly rolling down your cheeks.

"i miss you too, hoonie," you finally said, your voice breaking.

"my baby," he said, his voice soft, as if it was healing the fresh wounds in your heart. "you have to be strong, okay? just two more cities here in the us, and i'll be back home."

after a few minutes of sunghoon calming you down, saying sweet nothings, and repeating that he would be back soon, you finally stopped sobbing. you placed the notebook on your nightstand and lay down, your cheek pressed against the pillow.

your conversation about movies continued, but sunghoon soon noticed your responses getting shorter or you simply replying with a soft "mhm" in varying tones that matched the conversation.

"love, is your phone charging?" he asked.

"mhm."

"where's your little hoonie?" another question. you opened your eyes and searched for the penguin plushie sunghoon had given you as a gift for your first anniversary. you quickly grabbed it and held it in your arms. closing your eyes again, you heard sunghoon chuckle.

"good, good. go to sleep, okay, love? i'll be here. do you want me to keep talking?"

you answered with another hum. just hearing his voice relaxed you, and he knew that after multiple times of you falling asleep on the call as he spoke.

he continued to talk, but after a few minutes, his voice became muffled as you started falling asleep for good. when sunghoon noticed your slow and steady breathing, calm expression, and the fact that you didn't respond anymore, he sighed, a soft smile on his face. he took a screenshot of your relaxed face and settled down more comfortably.

"i can't wait to see you and fall asleep with you, baby. i love you so much. sleep well."

#thejakeslayla #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enha x reader #enhypen x you #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x y/n #sunghoon drabbles #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon angst

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weemssapphic · 4 months

Note

Could I request a fluff fic for Miranda :0?

Maybe the weathers getting colder, cuffing szn etc Miranda falls for one of her neighbors who keeps bringing her baked goods, she’s unaware that said neighbor likes her!!! (unaware queen). Literally anything cute and sweet to get me thru the treacherous winter of Northern Europe HAHA

A/N: Hello! Sooooo a. this became a bit more of a Christmas fic than a winter fic, I hope that's okay, and b. I also failed to finish it before Christmas as I had originally planned 🥴 buuut I do hope you enjoy anyway! HUGE shoutout to @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze and @agathaandgwenslesbian for beta'ing and hyping me up to post this, I love you both 🥺💖

Merry Christmas, Baby

Words: ~6.3k | ao3 link in title Warnings: mentions of alcohol/drinking, cigarettes/smoking

You’ve been living in your new apartment for about three months now, after leaving home and moving all the way to Australia for work. You like to think you’ve settled in well: you’re starting to get into a routine, you’ve managed to decorate most of your apartment and make it feel like home, Sydney isn’t as daunting as it was in the beginning - you were even able to give a tourist directions the other day.

The only thing missing is, well, friends. You get along well enough with your coworkers, they’ve been welcoming and have even started to invite you out. But more weekends than not you find yourself exploring the city on your own or hanging out on your couch with takeout, watching Netflix and thinking about your friends back home. You try to FaceTime them as often as you can, but the time difference makes it hard, and sometimes it makes you sad to ‘see’ them and know you can’t just meet up like you used to.

To stave off some of the loneliness you’ve been feeling, you’ve spent the past few weeks attempting to meet more people - and one person in particular has caught your eye: your neighbor, Miranda. You met her in the hallway during your first week in the building - she’d come up the stairs as you were fumbling with your keys, struggling a bit as your arms were full of groceries. She’d immediately offered to help, her eyes wide and her smile bright as she’d rushed over to you and grabbed the grocery bags right out of your hands. The way she looked down at you, watching your every move with great interest as you unlocked your door, brought a flush to your cheeks that only got worse during the subsequent small talk.

Your interactions since then have been a bit sparse - you keep hoping you’ll catch a glimpse of her in the hallway, but you rarely do. Sometimes you’ll hear her apartment door fall shut late at night as you’re falling asleep, or you’ll hear her footsteps on the stairs early in the morning while you’re still getting ready - wherever she works, she seems to have irregular shifts.

~~~

It’s a Sunday evening and you’re spending it alone (again). When your friend back home had canceled your scheduled FaceTime call at the last minute, you’d decided to distract yourself by baking. As you put together the ingredients for blueberry muffins, you find your mind wandering to your tall, blonde neighbor - wondering what it is she does for work, where she’s from (you thought you caught a British accent but you weren’t sure anymore), whether or not she’s seeing anyone…

The sound of the timer pulls you out of your thoughts and you turn off the oven and pull the muffin tray out, setting it on the counter. Your heart sinks when you realize there’s no way you’re going to finish them all by yourself. You suppose you could bring some to work… You bite your lip, your brow furrowing as you stare down the baked goods. Perhaps you could bring Miranda some? Butterflies erupt in your tummy when you picture her opening her front door, her lips stretching into a smile that reaches her bright blue eyes. Perhaps she would invite you in, perhaps the two of you would spend the evening on her couch, getting closer by the hour as you get to know one another. Perhaps…

You shake your head, trying not to get ahead of yourself. You’ll just stop by with a few muffins and see what happens. Maybe she’ll be busy. Or she won’t even be home and you’ll be forced to leave them next to her door.

After preparing a small basket of baked goods and changing from your rattiest sweatpants into a pair of jeans, you slip out of your apartment and cross the hall. Your heart begins to pound, your hands turning clammy as you bring your fist up to Miranda’s door. After a brief moment’s hesitation and a deep breath, you knock.

At first, you’re met with silence - your heart sinks a bit, and you try to ignore the little pang of disappointment that begins to creep up on you. But just as you’re about to turn around, you hear a shuffling behind the door. It opens just a crack - you hear an “Oh!” - and then it swings open fully, revealing Miranda in a navy bathrobe. Her hair is wet, slicked back - one strand falls over her eyebrow and she pushes it back, a smile growing on her lips as she looks down at you.

“Hello,” she says, sounding a little breathless. You feel yourself flush as you realize you must have caught her just out of the shower - perhaps it took her so long to answer the door because she wasn’t dressed yet, and the thought makes you slightly dizzy.

“Hi.” You can’t help but gawk a bit, and the thought of just dropping the muffins at her feet and leaving before you can make a fool of yourself briefly crosses your mind.

Her brows furrow slightly and so do yours, before you realize that you should probably say something else.

“I just wanted to…” You gesture vaguely at the basket you’re holding. “If this is a bad time, I can come back later,” you manage to stutter out, focusing all your efforts on keeping your eyes on her face.

“Oh, you’re alright,” Miranda says, craning her neck a bit to catch a glimpse at what you’re holding. “Are those muffins?”

“Yeah. For you.” You thrust your arms out, holding the basket towards her. Her eyes widen, darting between you and the basket as she takes it from you.

Her entire face seems to light up with excitement - she looks positively giddy. “Did you make these?”

“Yes! Yeah. I like baking. And I made too many. So I thought I would see if you want some.”

The smile that’s broken out across Miranda’s face is one you wish you could save and put in your pocket to look at on your worst days. It lights up her entire face, making her eyes sparkle and her nose crinkle - it’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen. You’re so distracted by it that you nearly miss her next words.

“Would you like to come in? I was going to make some tea.”

“Sure.”

You blush as Miranda steps aside, allowing you to step over the threshold of her apartment. She shuts the door behind you then walks past you into her kitchen. Even the way she walks is attractive to you - the mesmerizing sway of her hips, the way she pushes her shoulders back and swings her arms, her long strides. Taking a deep breath, you follow her and lean against the door frame, watching as she sets down the muffins on the counter and puts on the electric kettle.

“I didn’t know if you’d be home,” you say, breaking the silence. You’re a bit embarrassed that your voice comes out hoarse, and you clear your throat. “I don’t see you around much. Do you do shift work?”

Miranda glances back at you as she rummages through the cupboards for two mugs. She smiles softly. “Sort of. I’ve been on call a lot lately.”

“Oh.” You cock your head to the side. “What do you do?”

“I’m, uh, a police constable.”

Your eyes widen as you process the information. It makes sense, you realize - and then you feel your mouth go dry as you picture Miranda in a police uniform.

“What do you do?”

Her question breaks you out of your trance, and you can feel your cheeks turn red. “Oh, um, that’s… I work in accounting.” You swallow back your embarrassment at having a “boring” desk job, your eyes darting around Miranda’s kitchen - anything to avoid meeting her gaze.

“Steady work then,” she says - you can hear the smile in her voice and you dare to steal a glance at her face. Her expression is soft, completely at ease, and you can’t help but feel your shoulders relax a little. “How come you moved to Sydney? Did you move here for a guy?”

A sound between a snort and a chuckle escapes your lips and you quickly look away again. “Nope.” You want to say that you’re more into women, but you get nervous and something stops you. “I just needed a change of scenery. I figured moving to an English-speaking country would be easiest, and I thought the weather here would be nicer than in the UK.”

Miranda laughs a full-belly laugh, throwing her head back. “I’m from the UK, you know.”

“Tell me I’m wrong then,” you tease with a grin.

Her eyes flicker briefly over your form, an amused grin on her face. “You’re… you’re not wrong.” She ducks her head in surrender - then the kettle goes off and she turns to busy herself with preparing the tea.

“So why did you move to Sydney then?”

“My boyfriend at the time was Australian.” Miranda hands you one of the mugs, then leans back against the counter, taking a sip of her own tea and observing you carefully. You try not to let on to the way that your stomach sinks when you hear the word “boyfriend” - it doesn’t mean she’s straight, you remind yourself (and besides, even if she did like women - it doesn’t mean she’d like you). You nod and hum in acknowledgment, hoping to come off as casual and unaffected as you sip your tea.

Miranda sets down her mug and reaches over the small kitchen table to grab a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Once again you find yourself mesmerized as long, slender fingers pull a cigarette out of the pack, placing it between her pale lips as she lights it.

For a moment, she seems unaware of your presence - she takes a deep drag from the cigarette, her fingers playing with the lighter as she exhales a cloud of smoke. Then her eyes fall to your face and widen slightly. “Oh, God, sorry. Do you mind?”

You shake your head - it’s not your apartment so it’s not like you have a say anyway, and, if you’re honest, you find it a bit hot. “Go ahead, it’s your apartment.”

She shoots you a grateful smile and takes another drag from the cigarette. “You want one?”

You nod and she tosses you the pack. Once you’ve plucked a cigarette from it, she steps towards you. “Here, let me,” she says, moving to light it for you as her own cigarette dangles from between her lips. She gets closer than would probably be necessary and her proximity makes you feel a little faint - you can smell the shampoo in her still-damp hair, and the smoke on her breath. Your eyes are trained on the lighter - when the flame goes out, you glance up, only to be met with the brightest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. They’re even lighter than you initially thought and her gaze is intense - it’s slightly overwhelming.

“Thanks,” you whisper hoarsely, forcing yourself to blink and take a step back. Miranda’s eyes are fixed curiously on your face as she plucks her cigarette from between her lips. She tilts her head, her lips parting into a smile.

“What?” There’s a playful edge to her voice and her eyes sparkle with mischief. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You freeze, your cheeks turning pink. “Like what?”

“You find me intimidating, don’t you?” You open your mouth to argue but she cuts you off, gesturing down the length of her body. “It’s my height, isn’t it? I get that a lot.”

“It’s not- I mean…” You shrug lamely, taking a sip of your tea to give yourself a moment to think. “It’s not you, I’ve just had a long day. A long few months, actually.” Okay, so you’re deflecting - but it feels way too nice just to bask in Miranda’s presence, and you don’t want it to end so soon by making things awkward.

Miranda’s face softens in an instant, little creases appearing between her brows. “From the move? It can be so hard to uproot your life like that.”

It’s a phrase you’ve heard before - people trying to sympathize with you, looking for something meaningful to say. But with Miranda, it feels different. With the way she’s looking at you, it feels like she truly understands.

~~~

In the past few weeks you’ve gotten into the habit of bringing Miranda baked goods - always on the pretext of having made extras for work and other neighbors (though you never have any intention of giving them to anyone except Miranda). It’s more than worth the hours spent in the kitchen to see the smile that lights up her face when she answers the door. Sometimes she invites you in for tea and a cigarette, sometimes there’s only time for a bit of small talk before one of you needs to get going - but each time, butterflies erupt in your belly and you find yourself wishing you were brave enough to make a move.

What you don’t know is that Miranda finds herself wishing the same thing. Sure, she loves everything you make her (nothing you’ve ever baked her has lasted more than 2 days at most), but the real reason her face breaks into a splitting grin when she answers the door is because it’s you who’s standing there.

Miranda can’t get enough of you - you’re easy to talk to, you make her laugh, you seem to take her as she is. And you’re damn beautiful. The most exciting part of her week is wondering on which evening you’ll come by unannounced after work, and she finds herself praying she’ll have the time to talk to you.

One such evening, you’ve come over with a tray of red velvet cupcakes - decorated with festive little Christmas tree sprinkles. Miranda’s just gotten off a shift and has the evening off, and she’s never been more grateful as she leads you into her kitchen and turns on the kettle. You make yourself right at home, settling on a kitchen chair and tucking your legs underneath you as you reach for the pack of cigarettes on the table - it’s almost become a routine now, and you look like you belong there. Miranda likes that thought more than she’d care to admit.

Still, despite how often you’ve come by lately, she feels there’s still some sort of barrier between the two of you. Your conversations are the best part of her week, yet they tend to feel a bit… shallow. She’s desperate to get to know you better but she’s holding herself back - the fear of driving you away, of being too much for you to handle, causes her to freeze up. You’re just being nice, trying to make new friends in Australia, and here she is, falling for you one red velvet cupcake at a time.

“Mir?” Your voice pulls her out of her thoughts and she looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. She tries desperately to remember what you were talking to her about, but she realizes quickly that her efforts are futile - she was too busy admiring the lock of hair falling across your cheek, the way you ran your fingers through your hair to push it back.

“Sorry.” She offers you a sheepish smile, her cheeks slowly turning scarlet.

You smile back, and her heart skips a beat. “I asked if you’re staying in Sydney for Christmas or if you’re going back to London?”

“I’m staying here. I work on Christmas, so…” She frowns slightly - she hasn’t gone home for Christmas in a few years. Usually, she works and spends her off-hours curled up in bed watching Christmassy rom-coms by herself. She’s gotten used to it. “Are you? Going home for Christmas?”

“Nah. I blew all my savings in the move, can’t afford the plane ticket.” Something about the way you shrug your shoulders, your gaze dropping to the floor, tells Miranda that your nonchalance is a front.

“Would you like to come over?” Miranda, what are you saying? “We could cook something and watch a movie together.” Miranda, shut up! “Maybe you could sleep over and we could keep each other company.” Oh, great, now you’ve done it! Miranda’s eyes widen as she realizes what she’s saying, but she can’t take it back now - and, to be honest, she doesn’t want to take it back. Her heart hammers wildly against her ribcage as she waits for you to reply. It only takes you seconds, really, but those few seconds might as well be hours as time slows and Miranda begins to find it hard to breathe.

“Oh, it’s fine, you don’t have to take me in! I’ll be okay, I wouldn’t want to impose.” Your words come out in a rush and your cheeks are turning pink - Miranda’s heart starts to sink and she scrambles to find the right words to save the conversation.

“You wouldn’t be imposing, I’d have just had a few beers by myself after work anyway.” She chuckles nervously, before adding, “I could use the company.”

She quickly looks away from you, finding the brief moment of vulnerability too much to handle - she couldn’t bear to see the look in your eyes at the moment, certainly one of pity or judgment.

“Oh… Well in that case, I’d love to spend Christmas with you. If that’s okay.”

Miranda’s eyes widen and she glances over at you to see you smiling shyly - her heart stutters in her chest and she feels her stomach flip pleasantly. She lets out a shaky breath, unable to stop the wide smile that’s creeping up her face. “Okay then.”

~~~

Ever since that evening in Miranda’s apartment, you’ve been buzzing with excitement. She’d ended up giving you her number so that you could plan when to come over, and it’s taken all of your restraint not to bug her every waking second - you wouldn’t want her getting sick of you and regretting inviting you over.

But as Christmas is just a few days away, you decide to shoot her a text as you’re lying in bed at night.

Y/N: Hey there, it’s Y/N! I just wanted to ask what time you wanted me to come over on Christmas? :)

You toss your phone aside, not expecting Miranda to text back anytime soon - it’s already late, after all. When your screen lights up moments later, however, your heart begins to pound.

Miranda: Hey! Miranda: I work until 4 Miranda: So evening I would say

Y/N: How does 6 sound? Is that too early?

Miranda: That sounds perfect :)

Y/N: Great! Should I bring anything?

Miranda: Just yourself ;) Miranda: Wait Miranda: Actually Miranda: Do you remember the cookies you brought me last week?

Y/N: What, am I not enough for you? ;) Y/N: (I’ll make some more)

Miranda: Are you sure?

Y/N: Absolutely!! Anything for my favorite neighbor.

Miranda: You’re too good to me

By the time you’re done texting her, you’re grinning down at your phone like an idiot. The screen goes black and you catch sight of your reflection - you blush and bury your head in your pillow. For the first time since you moved, you’re actually starting to get excited for Christmas.

~~~

Three days later you’re wrapping up a pair of Christmas pajamas (red, covered in little white snowflakes - you have a matching pair) to give to Miranda - you want to give her something for Christmas, but you don’t know her all that well yet to get her something personal. Still, you think (or at least, you hope) she’ll find the pajamas silly and fun.

Armed with the gift, a huge tupperware box full of candy cane cookies, your keys, and your phone, you pad across the hall and knock gently on Miranda’s door. You hear her muffled voice yell “coming”, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps, before the door swings open. Miranda’s eyes flick briefly down your body, over the wrapped gift and the cookies, before she finally meets your gaze. She’s slightly out of breath, and her lips curl up into a smile that meets her eyes. What you would give to kiss those lips…

“Merry Christmas,” you say, smiling back and forcing your eyes to remain trained on her own.

“Right! Merry Christmas!” You could swear you see Miranda’s cheeks turn pink, but before you have time to question it she’s ushering you into her apartment, her hand coming to rest on your lower back as she steers you towards the kitchen. “I did some food shopping the other day. I wasn’t sure what you’d want to eat, I’m not usually big on holiday foods and I didn’t have time to prepare anything because of work.”

Miranda’s rambling has you swooning - you can tell she’s nervous, though you aren’t sure why. If only she knew you’d happily eat frozen pizza or cereal for Christmas dinner, as long as you get to spend it with her.

“It’s fine, I don’t care much about Christmas dinner, we can eat anything.” You hope that you’re coming off as reassuring, though you can’t really tell as Miranda blushes again and lights up a cigarette.

“Maybe a curry?” she asks, chewing at her bottom lip.

“Yeah, that sounds great. Just tell me what you need help with.”

She seems to relax a bit, heading over to the fridge and pulling out ingredients. “What do you drink? Do you want a beer?”

“Please.”

The two of you spend the next 45 minutes side by side in the small kitchen, cooking, drinking, talking - mostly it’s Miranda, telling you about her workday. When she’s done chopping vegetables, she reaches for the pack of cigarettes again - “sorry, nerves,” she says with a faint smile. You still can’t fathom what she’s nervous about but you don’t want to push her, so you shrug it off and turn your attention to the curry that’s simmering in the pan. You dip a spoon into the sauce to try it, humming in delight the second the flavors explode on your tongue.

“This is really good, try it!” Without thinking you bring the spoon to Miranda’s mouth and, without thinking, she closes her lips around it. Her eyelids flutter shut and she lets out a little noise of pleasure that’s dangerously close to a moan. Heat pools in your stomach, your eyes glued to her lips as you slide the spoon out of her mouth - it’s the first time you notice a little scar above her lip, and you swallow thickly.

You quickly avert your gaze as Miranda’s eyes open again, taking a sip of your beer as you check on the rice.

“I was thinking we could just eat in the living room and watch a movie?” Miranda suggests when the curry is done cooking. You agree and help Miranda carry the bowls and a couple bottles of beer into the living room. It’s small, like yours, and a little cluttered. There’s a string of fairy lights above the window and a small Christmas tree sat atop a side table. Miranda’s eyes follow your gaze and she chuckles.

“I actually put that up two days ago, I panicked when I realized I didn’t have any Christmas decorations up at all.”

“You didn’t have to decorate on my account,” you tease, earning yourself a laugh.

“Oh but what kind of Christmas would it be without a tree?”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Miranda smiles at you as she settles on the couch, crossing her legs and setting her bowl in her lap. She gestures for you to join her. You tuck your knees underneath you, angling your body towards her. As you eat, you fall into an easy conversation - you find yourself getting even more comfortable in Miranda’s presence, feeling right at home in her apartment. You can tell she’s relaxing as well - she stretches her legs out, her toes (clad in Christmas-themed socks) touching the side of your thigh.

“I got you something, by the way,” Miranda says suddenly, leaning over to place her almost-empty bowl on the table. You follow suit, a smile lighting up your face.

“I got you something, too - wait here!” Miranda looks somewhat surprised as you jump up and rush into the kitchen, returning with the gift you’d brought. She now has a gift of her own on her lap, and she’s picking at the edge of the wrapping paper as you settle back down beside her, a soft smile on her face.

You exchange gifts and Miranda’s chewing nervously at her bottom lip as she watches you tear open the wrapping paper. It’s a cookbook for baking - you can’t help but laugh, and you look up to see Miranda’s cheeks turn pink.

“Is this meant to be a hint?” you tease, and Miranda chuckles nervously.

“Sorry, I-”

“I love it,” you cut her off, setting the book down beside you and leaning over to wrap your arms tightly around her torso. She returns the hug - her arms are strong and comforting and you’re immediately enveloped in her scent. It takes everything in you not to kiss her.

After pulling away, you gesture eagerly to the gift that’s in her lap. She has a look of nervous excitement on her face as she begins to unwrap it - her smile widens when she takes the pjs out of the wrapping paper and holds them in front of her.

“I hope they fit, I guessed your size. I have the same ones and you seem like the type of person who would like them.”

Miranda’s eyes widen as she looks over at you, her expression nothing short of giddy. “You have the same ones? Wear them! We can match.”

Her reaction is exactly what you hoped it would be. The prospect of wearing matching Christmas pjs is both adorable and a little intimate, and you’re filled with nervous anticipation as you head across the hall to your apartment to get changed.

When you get back to Miranda’s apartment a few minutes later, the blonde is sitting on her couch with her legs tucked underneath her. She smiles so widely that her nose crinkles, and she opens her arms to you. Without a second thought, you allow yourself to be pulled into a tight hug.

“Do you like them?” you ask as you pull away.

“I love them!” The smile on her face is genuine, her eyes shining brightly, and you can’t help but blush, your entire body tingling a bit as your eyes drift down her body.

~~~

You’re about an hour into the second movie of the night and you’re already several beers deep (you’ve lost count, to be honest). You’ve scooted closer and closer to Miranda as the evening has worn on, and now you’re practically on top of her - your legs are bent at the knee, tucked against your body and resting on the outside of her thigh, your shoulder is all but glued to her own.

You drain the rest of your beer, then pout at the bottle. “It’s empty,” you say, more to yourself than to Miranda, who chuckles and shifts beside you.

“I can get you another one?”

“It’s fine,” you say with a giggle. “Maybe I should stop drinking.” You’re not drunk but you’re definitely tipsy - you turn your head to face Miranda a little too quickly and, for a brief moment, the room spins, causing you to burst into another fit of giggles.

Your eyes meet Miranda’s, before dropping to her lips and getting stuck there. They’re curled into an amused smile as she chuckles at your inebriated state - though the smile slowly fades as her brows begin to crease. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips and your own laughter quickly dies in your throat, your mouth going dry. You can tell Miranda’s breathing has gone shallow, her eyes falling to your lips. The air around you becomes thick and heavy, and Miranda’s gaze darts away.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, scrambling to scoot away - before she can get very far, your arm shoots out and holds her in place.

“What are you sorry for?” you whisper. The only sound you can hear is the pounding of your own heart in your ears as you wait for Miranda to respond. Her gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, a lovely shade of pink rising in her cheeks.

“I-” she starts, cutting herself off as she swallows visibly.

“Do you want to kiss me?” You don’t know what prompted you to be so bold (probably the alcohol), but when a soft, barely audible whimper escapes Miranda’s throat, you can’t say you regret asking.

“Yes.”

You definitely don’t regret asking.

“I want to kiss you, too,” you whisper, leaning in slightly as you fix your gaze on soft-looking, pale pink lips that glisten slightly in the dim light of the living room. Then you stop yourself, hesitating as the room spins again. You’ve dreamed of kissing those same lips for weeks now but something is off.

The alcohol, you realize - you don’t want your first kiss with Miranda to be clouded by alcohol. You want to appreciate and remember the moment fully, you want to savor every second. So, as much as you’re dying to close the gap and absolutely ravage the lovely, beautiful woman sitting next to you, you decide to pull back. “But I’m going to wait until tomorrow. I want to be completely sober for that. And… if you still want to kiss me tomorrow… then I’ll kiss you.”

Miranda nods slowly, looking a bit dazed. “That’s, uh,” she starts, her voice hoarse. She clears her throat. “That’s a good idea.” She shifts in her seat, crossing one thigh tightly over the other. The air is still thick and heavy, and it takes everything in you not to say ‘fuck it’ and push her back onto the couch - but you mean it, you really do want to be sober for that. So you lean back, putting a few inches of distance between yourself and Miranda for the remainder of the film.

You feel yourself becoming more and more tired, and by the time the credits are rolling, you’re struggling to keep your eyes open. Pushing yourself up off the couch, you sway slightly as you make it to your feet, and immediately decide to sit back down so that you don’t fall over.

“You sure you can make it back down the hall okay?” Miranda teases, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watches you lean back against the sofa.

You roll your eyes and shoot her a playful glare. “I’m not drunk. I’m just tired.” As if to emphasize your point, you yawn widely as you finish your last sentence - Miranda laughs.

“You can sleep here if you want,” she offers - then her face goes pale and she rushes to explain herself. “Not with me of course, but the couch is quite comfortable. Or you can take the bed and I’ll take the couch, that’s fine, too-”

She’s talking a mile a minute and it’s the most charming thing you’ve ever heard - especially since you definitely would sleep with her. You’d just prefer to do it sober. Giggling, you decide to show her mercy and cut her off. “Thanks for the offer. I think I’ll take the couch if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, let me get you some blankets.” She turns off the tv and stands, leaving the room for a minute and coming back with a pillow and an armful of blankets. You get up and try to help her to make a makeshift bed for you, but your movements are a bit sluggish and you realize you’re just getting in her way, so you end up perching on the edge of the coffee table until she gives you the go.

You snuggle into the blankets - they smell like Miranda, and it takes everything in you not to bury your nose in them and moan out loud. Instead, you shoot Miranda a smile and mutter a sleepy ‘thank you’ - she nods, telling you to yell if you need her, then turns to leave.

“Oh, Miranda?” You lift your head off the pillow and crane your neck towards the blonde.

She pauses in the doorway, turning back to face you as she runs a hand through her hair. “Hmm?”

“Merry Christmas.” You beam at her, even as your eyes threaten to close any second. The evening was far from a traditional Christmas celebration, but it was the best Christmas you’ve had in a long time.

“Merry Christmas,” she replies, her smile soft and genuine, before turning around and disappearing into her bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her.

~~~

You’re out like a light the second Miranda is gone, completely oblivious to the internal struggle she faces as she curls up in her own bed. She tries to close her eyes and force herself to sleep, but she’s not tired at all - her mind is racing and her heart is pounding, her entire body responding to the evening she’s shared with you. The laughter, the sense of familiarity and peace, the tension when you nearly kissed her. And, God, does she want to kiss you. But you’re tipsy, and you probably just said that in the heat of the moment - she gets it, sometimes alcohol makes her flirty and a little horny as well. You probably won’t remember that conversation in the morning - and you probably won’t want to kiss her anymore either.

She can’t help the way her heart sinks as she comes to that realization, and it keeps her up for the better part of the night. She feels like she’s just managed to nod off when the morning light starts to filter in through the curtains and she groans, burying her face in her pillow.

Thud.

Miranda freezes for a moment, her blood going cold as she hears a noise coming from her living room. Then she remembers that you’re sleeping on her couch and her body relaxes again. She’s nervous, wondering if you’ll be awkward about the previous evening’s sexual tension, but her curiosity about whether or not you’re already awake wins out and she pushes herself off the bed, smoothing a hand over her hair and wiping the sleep out of her eyes before creeping into the hallway, careful to be quiet in case you’re still sleeping.

There’s a clattering coming from the living room though, and she finds you collecting the beer bottles from last night that are still scattered across the coffee table.

“Hello,” Miranda says, her voice still a little hoarse from sleep.

Your head whips around towards the doorway and your cheeks turn pink. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to clean up a bit. Did I wake you?” The way you’re chewing at your bottom lip is adorable and makes Miranda want to kiss you senseless. She chuckles and shakes her head.

“No, I was awake anyway. Here, let me help.” Miranda helps you clear off the coffee table, heading into the kitchen with an armful of bottles and her empty bowl from dinner. You’re right behind her with the rest of the dishes and you immediately make your way to the sink and start washing them - it feels so domestic that it makes Miranda’s heart flutter, and she has to look away and focus on something else so that you can’t see the blush on her cheeks or the yearning that’s surely shining in her eyes.

“Do you want coffee?” she asks, waiting for your affirmative hum before starting to make some. She’s so focused on preparing the coffee machine that she misses you turning off the sink and padding over to her - she yelps as you press against her back, placing your hands on the counter on either side of her and boxing her in. Her heart is racing, skipping beats left and right as your body heat warms her from behind. Drawing in a sharp breath, she turns around to face you.

“Miranda?” Your voice is low and a little shaky, and your cheeks are flushed - gorgeously so, Miranda finds her mouth going dry.

“Yes?” she croaks out.

“Remember how I said I’d kiss you today if you still wanted to?”

All Miranda can do is nod, her mouth hanging open as all the blood rushes to her face.

“Well, I guess I wanted to ask you if you still wanted to kiss me? Because I’m sober now and I still want to kiss you.” You look just as nervous as Miranda feels - she nods again, afraid her voice will betray how badly she wants you.

“Please, say it,” you plead, your eyes wide and earnest. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Y-yes. I- I want to kiss you.”

Your lips curl up into a soft smile and your hands move from the counter to Miranda’s waist, your grip firm as if you’re afraid she’ll run away from you. You press yourself up onto your toes until your face is mere inches away from her own. She can feel your breath on her face, warm and shallow. Her eyes are glued to your lips, wondering when you’ll close the gap - then you do, your lips soft and plush as they press gently against hers.

She allows her eyelids to flutter shut and kisses you back, her own hands reaching out tentatively to cup your cheeks. You smile into the kiss and she takes the opportunity to deepen it - you groan softly into her mouth as her tongue brushes against yours, and she swallows the sound, groaning back in return.

“I didn’t think you’d remember,” she murmurs, her thumb stroking your cheek.

“As if I haven’t been thinking about that since the moment I first met you,” you tease with a seductive grin, before wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her down for a second kiss, even more passionate than the last.

@alexusonfire @brienneswife @pro-weems-places @bigolgay @kimiinou @imprincipalweemspet @h-doodles @bychrissi @katie-bennet @giogwensversion @gela123 @friskyfisher @justcallmelittleone @michi2504 @scream-queenlover @a-queen-and-her-throne @sequoirius @anne-lister @winterfireblond @imgayforwoman69 @Ssappling2004 @fictionalized-lesbian @i-like-reading @aemilia19 @milfsloverblog @missdowling @billiedeansbitch @The_Demon_of_your_Dream @agathaandgwenslesbian @http-sam @Cute-catx @saltrage @renravens @opheliauniverse @zillahofviolets-bayolet @scarlettssub @catechristiestuff @niceminipotato @barbarasstar @women-are-so-ethereal @thevillagegay @willowshadenox @lilfartbox1 @larissaoftarthweems @dovesintherain @fallenbutch @lunala-rose23 @ahauandthesun @thenazwife @lvinhs @sweetderacine @daydream-cement @ilovetlcc @wastdstime @ladylarissaweems @spacetoaim22 @m1lflov3rrr

#miranda hilmarson x reader #miranda hilmarson #top of the lake #top of the lake: china girl #i haven't posted in almost 2.5 months and i'm ANXIOUS #hype a girl up 😭#i also clearly couldn't be arsed to come up with a better title i'm SORRY 🥲

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 3 months

Text

Daily OFMD Renewal Tasks - Updated 01/31/2024

Hey all! These were starting to get a bit big for the Recap, so I'll link here instead. I'll keep this updated every day so feel free to reference back here and I'll link to this inside the Recaps.

==Things to remember==

Keep it positive! We are wooing them!

Only address one platform at a time!

Make it personal! Tell them why you want to be on that platform (inclusivity, diversity, other shows that are similar, etc)

“It’s okay to reuse some content with new tags but try to space the posts out a couple hours so they dont stack up on top of each other in hashtag very obviously.” -Jac

==Today's Hashtags==

#AdoptOurCrew

#SaveOFMD

#FinishOurStories

==Platforms to Reach Out to==

Netflix

AmazonPrime

AppleTV

If you reach out on the social medias, you can cater to individual mission statements per platform.

Cheat Sheet Below provided by @aproperpirate on Twitter

If you wanna talk about the shows creativity, feel free to reference Ra Vincent's site, he was the Production Designer for OFMD. Great inspiration and pictures to use to show off to the networks.

It's also helpful for Amazon to show them the international reach

== Vote on the Queerties! ==

You can vote once a day!

Best TV Comedy

Best TV Performance

== US Social Media For Each Platform ==

Instagram:

Netflix @netflix

PrimeVideo @primevideo

Apple TV @appletv

Threads:

Netflix @netflix

PrimeVideo @primevideo

Twitter:

Netflix @netflix

PrimeVideo @PrimeVideo

Apple TV @AppleTV

Facebook:

Netflix @netflix

PrimeVideo @PrimeVideo

Apple TV @AppleTV

==Daily Helpful Tasks:==

1. Push That Petition

2. Fill out Feedback forms:

Make sure to request Our Flag Means Death on all the platforms, and indicate why you like the show (if that's an option) and keep it positive. Source: @Lcmwriter100 on Twitter

Netflix

AppleTV - looking for an example letter? Check out @saltpepperbeard’s post

AmazonPrime

For Amazon Prime - Courtesy of @yougotofast over on twitter.

Existing Prime subscribers, you can access a Suggestions/Feedback form on the Prime Video app in the Settings > Help & Feedback section. The form is automatically tied to your Prime account, not sure if that makes any difference compared to anonymous feedback.

3. Platform/Article Engagement

HBOMax

If you still have HBO Max, please still go ahead and stream Our Flag Means Death, it keeps up engagement and numbers.

Search Our Flag Means Death on Netflix

If you have Netflix, after your search, stream the first title that comes up for a few minutes.

Article Engagement - Source: @candiedsilkmoth on twitter

@itsmfgames Has been kind enough to be keeping up a running list of Articles about the campaigns -- so if you have the time and want to go catch up on some articles, please checkout the guide below and visit this google doc for the list!

4. Make Calls

Contact Netflix and say why you love OFMD

You can call them at (844) 505-2993 as well and let them know about a hoard of pirates looking for a new home. You're welcome to try their toll free number as well (888) 638-3549

5. Daily Link Clicks to keep up engagement

Our Flag Means Death Wikipedia Page

Google Search for Our Flag Means Death

Google UK Search for Our Flag Means Death

Our Flag Means Death IMDB

Current @renewasacrew Daily Links:

Tumblr

Twitter

Instagram

For Industry specific help see @TheCozyPirate on Twitter as well. I will try to include any pertinent information in the Daily Recap or here, but if you have twitter they're a great resource

== RADIO! ==

Some awesome new suggestions from @AdoptACrew Check out the thread here. Link to the NPR suggestion site: Here

=== Staying a Polite Menace to Max ===

For those of you who are still up for it-- We are still contacting Max and Commenting on their posts. Thank you @asgardian--angels for the reminder! I'll update this section with more details tomorrow once we have some more.

Current focus with Max is less requesting Renewal and more to Expressing Disappointment about them cancelling marginalised Stories (OFMD, Rap Sh!t, etc), specifically to give them bad PR.

We're still letting Casey Bloys and David Zaslav know no peace.

As usual please be polite, we're not letting max off the hook, but Monday there will be a news article coming out regarding this (Source: Jac (@TheCozyPirate) on Twitter))

==Media Resources (Pics, Gifs, Vids)==

Gifs, Pics, and Videos to use: show clips to use Src: @havethisonelife

Our lovely @kiwistede made some great custom gifs you can use to tweet and message the platforms with. Check out their tumblr here

== Stats ==

Some Cool Stats you can use:

==Infographics==

Some folks like infographics instead of text so here's some stuff for you! Courtesy of @edandstede on Twitter

I have a limited amount of pictures I can put on one post so here is a google drive with more: Google Drive

==Other ideas for engagement:==

Courtesy of @sandwrite2 on Twitter

#ofmd #our flag means death #renew as a crew #save ofmd #save our flag means death #ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps

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savethegrishaverse · 4 months

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Exciting news! We're teaming up with the Lockwood & Co. fandom to work together on a new initiative to save our shows!

We have it on good authority that Netflix pays attention to submissions through their Title Request Form, so let’s tell them what we want! Fill it out by requesting the following:

Shadow and Bone Season 3

Six of Crows spin-off

Lockwood & Co. Season 2

Both our fandoms working together means we can make twice the requests than if we worked independently. This collaboration amplifies our voices and strengthens our call to action.

Let's show Netflix the demand for these incredible shows, and let’s make our voices heard together!

You can find the title request form here: https://help.netflix.com/en/titlerequest

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reallygoodplants · 3 months

Text

Low-Effort Tasks to help save OFMD

Writing emails, crafting posts, pestering friends and collegagues to sign the petition... These can be hard some days (or all of the days).

If you're low on spoons but still want to help, here are some things you can do.

Most only take a few seconds and can be done on half a working braincell.

You can do them any day, no matter what else is going on with the campaign.

Do as few or as many of these as you like. Every bit helps.

🖱 Click some links

This boosts stats and metrics that streaming platforms look at.

Google

Wikipedia

IMDB

Rotten Tomatoes

TV Stats

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live-laugh-lenney · 4 months

Text

interruption | arthurtv

hello!

not very good as following a routine or any kind of schedule so the posting of my writing will be rather sporadic... i do apologise but bear with me on that.

here's one that i've been working on for a couple of weeks, from a request that was sent in to my inbox, so i hope that whoever did ask me to write this enjoys it. let me know what you think and don't hesitate to send in your feedback or send in any ideas that you want me to write.

thank you! love to you all!

enjoy. x

Cosy.

That’s how she would describe Arthur’s flat.

Cosy and very him.

All open plan, with his kitchen melding with his living room mixing with his dining room, but so warm and inviting. A knitted throw-blanket folded and draped over the back of his sofa, that he always said was for show but he never scolded YN when she unravelled the fabric and threw it over her legs when she was curled up beside him, or took it to his bedroom when the nights were too cold for just a duvet and his radiating body heat. Books, labelled from fictional titles to nonfiction titles and autobiographies through to encyclopaedias sat on shelves attached the the walls of his living room, with photo frames of him and his family and wax burners filling in the gaps that melted scents of cinnamon and spiced orange, succulents draped down and in witty plant pots that his friends would buy him for Christmas. Lamps in every corner of his main living space because he felt that the main lighting was much too bright, especially for evenings spent at home with a good book that he’d brought from the bookstore on his outing into the city centre, or too bright for an evening spent at home watching a television show he’d been recommended to watch by one of his friends.

Where her flat was more in the centre of London, closer to where she worked in an independent coffee house which definitely challenged the Starbucks and Costa’s that were close-by, she became used to the sounds of passing cars and honking taxis and the distant sound of the overground squeaking on the rails as it approached its destination. The hustle and bustle of tourists passing by the entrance to her flat complex, shops on her doorstep, in an area that was full of high-rise buildings and overlooked a park that she spent many of the summery days sat in, with a picnic from Waitrose and a good book and with Arthur, enjoying the time together. So being in the part of London that almost instantaneously switches off in the middle of the evening, once everyone had travelled home and everything had shut up shop for the night, felt almost peaceful to her.

She much preferred his living space to her own…but she was sure that it was the feeling of being in the same vicinity as him that warmed her more than being in the flat itself.

On the evenings he would film with Alex and George and Cam, for a Chaos Crew video that seemed to be in high demand, she found herself dillying around his home and finding things to do until he was finished for the night. If it wasn’t cooking them both a dinner to eat once he was done, it was reading something from his ever growing collection of novels; and if she wasn’t reading a book, she was logging into his Netflix and watching a film to pass the time and, if she’d had a busy day and felt her eyelids sitting heaving, she would curl up and take a nap on the sofa until she was woken up with a soft kiss to the forehead or a gentle nudge into her thigh to wake her up.

But there was something about that evening where she just wanted to be near him.

They’d both, surprisingly, had days off that coincided with each other so they spent the day together and they came rarely and not very often - taking it in their stride and making the most of getting to spend quality time together.They went shopping down the strip together and spoilt the other whenever they saw them looking at something for a little longer than normal, they popped into her coffee house for a cream cake and a coffee and to say hello to her friends who were working that day, they went food shopping because his fridge was a little scarce when it came to ingredients for a dinner that was substantial and they shared a late dinner together where they sat at the dining table with a candle and some fizzy apple juice to impersonate wine because neither of them fancied a drink that night. But she knew their time together was inevitable and she couldn’t help but look at the clock as she counted the minutes down till he said he needed to film a new video - and she couldn’t complain because, well, she had spent the last twelve hours with him.

But, twelve hours just didn’t feel like enough.

She hated using the word clingy when it came to her relationship with Arthur but… she felt clingy.

Across the space of his living room, she swerved the sofa and dodged his furniture and tucked the blanket a bit tighter over her shoulders as the gentle breeze of her movements blew it from the bare skin showing for her t-shirt - well, not her t-shirt but Arthur’s t-shirt, yet she claimed it as her own and he couldn’t say no to her when he thought she looked beautiful in his clothing - and she made her way down his hallway to. Goosebumps on her legs as she left the warmth of the sofa but they soon disappeared as she got closer to his office door, accustomed to the chill in the air.

“You know when this guy is telling him to tone it down that he needs to take it down a level,” she heard Arthur remark, a gentle snicker following in suit.

“Uh, yeah, looking a little bit like a geek there… might want to tone it down,” George’s laugh came next, followed by a chorus of cackles and snickers from the other guys sat on the Discord video call.

“He’s got a fourth badge that’s just homophobic,” her boyfriend retorted back and at that, she rolled her eyes and an unsure smile on her lips because of the emphasis on the last word of his sentence.

She could hear that whatever they were watching on Youtube had been unpaused, ready to carry on before they took another break to add commentary content to the video, and her hand halted over the door handle to his office. Shuffling on her bare feet, the wooden floor of his hallway was cold beneath the pads of her toes, and she just couldn’t figure out the right time to poke her head into his room and ask him just how long he was going to be. She didn’t want to be a bother but the longing-for-him feeling, that sat low in her belly, was becoming a bother to her.

“It is kind of cute. I actually do kind of rate it, like being your own superhero and that… but it is the kind of thing you grow out of when you’re like six,” Arthur stated.

“Yeah, you’ve got to go as something recognisable surely, right?” Alex questioned and there were some gentle hums of agreement throughout that she probably would have joined in with if they were all sat in a room together and discussing that specific topic, “if you’re gonna go as anything at all.”

“What did you go as to Comic Con?” Arthur wondered, asking the question that everyone was thinking; “I went as Obi Wan Kenobi,” came Alex’s response and he was instantly met with silence. YN could just imagine the smirks and the grins and the laughter that were almost bursting to come to light from the three guys sat there, taking in everything they’d heard.

And YN took the chance.

The door handle squeaked as she applied pressure and the door creaked as she opened it, poking her head into the room, met with the sage green wallpaper of his office and the dim lighting filling the space that he used as background lighting - because he still found his main light to be too bright when filming his Youtube videos. He turned in his seat and let his eyes adjust, smiling upon her arrival once he saw her full figure standing in the doorway, the screen illuminating the side of his face and he slipped his headphones from on top of his head and down to his neck.

“You okay, lovie?”

“Just wanted to know how long you were going to be,” she hummed softly, almost too quiet, but she didn’t want to interfere with their recording because then he’d have been there even longer than planned, “I was gonna have a nap on the sofa but I won’t if you’re not gonna be too long.”

“I won’t be long, no,” he said, “there’s not long left of this video. Give me twenty minutes?”

“I’ll wait up for you,” she smiled, “mind if I just sit in here and watch? Promise I won’t make any sounds. I’m a bit bored out there on my own.”

Arthur smiled warmly at her, letting his eyes wander up and down her body as he took in her comfy appearance, holding up his pointer finger as he turned back to face his monitors and slid his headphones back up his head, setting them back on his ears.

“Guys, YN’s here.”

She could hear the muffled cheers through his headphones from his announcement and she grinned shyly, tightening the blanket around her shoulders, and she closed the bedroom door behind her before shuffling across the carpet. He gave his thighs a pat, inviting her to come and sit with him for a brief few minutes, and she quietly took him up on that offer as she blushed and nodded. He situated himself a bit more comfortably in his chair, unplugging his headphones so she could hear what was happening and moving any lingering wires so she could settle herself down on his lap without pulling any screens off of his desk. Curling up under his arm and bringing her knees to her chest, covering herself with the blanket draped over her shoulders, releasing a content sigh. She wasn’t bothered by her appearance on the screen because she knew he wouldn’t include any of what was happening, without her permission, in the final cut on Youtube.

“How have you been, YN?”

“I’ve been good, yeah. Ready for a sleep but you guys just had to come first tonight,” she smirked, feeling Arthur’s hand tuck beneath the t-shirt hanging down her frame, his fingers tickling up her side in a relaxing and comforting manner, “I feel I haven’t seen you guys for weeks.”

“You haven’t actually,” George remarked with a hint of feigned annoyance, a similar smirk sitting on his mouth, “spending all your time with Arthur now, aren’t you? Taking him away from us. We’ll have to fight for custody.”

She rolled her eyes with a grin and dropped her head into the curve of Arthur’s neck and his jawline, inhaling softly and breathing in the faint scent of cologne still left on his clothing, his arms tightening around her.

He was warm.

So warm.

His hands wouldn’t leave her skin. His arm stayed tight to her waist and his fingers traced soft circles into her hip, just above the waistband of the knickers that dug into her skin, and his free hand kept in its place upon her knee and he gave her a squeeze every so often.

“I’m letting you have him this weekend,” she hummed, “Platform Roulette, no?”

“I only get him when he’s drunk and annoying,” George frowned playfully, “you get him when he’s all cute and soppy. One can only dream of that interaction, used to have it all the time.”

“YN’s cute and soppy also so they’re practically a match made in heaven,” Cam cackled and YN felt the heat creep up her neck and settle across the expanse of her cheeks, “look at you guys, it’s just adorable and it makes me feel sick.”

“Cam, oh my god,” Arthur laughed, “you guys suck.”

“We love you both really,” Alex smiled, “you know we do.”

honestly, ending a story just isn't my forte... i just hate every ending i write.

anyway!

if you got this far then thank you for reading. means a lot to me that you've reached the end. please let me know what you think and don’t hesitate to send me any ideas you may have for future fics. my ask box is always open so don’t hesitate to send anything in.

lots of love to you guys! thank you! xx

#arthurtv #arthurtv imagines #arthurtv fics #arthurtv headcannons #arthur frederick #arthur frederick fics #arthur frederick imagines #arthur frederick headcannons #chaos crew #chaos crew imagines #chaos crew fics

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