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[yeiowrites]

WELCOME !

── call ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ me ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ★ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏(yei.)

CONTAINS MATURE WORKS. 20s. bi. she/her

masterlists | ao3 | requests: closed

writing commissions | wanna tip me? check here!

current fixation: attack on titan ★ the poppy wars ★ jjk

[yeiowrites]

COMMISSIONS / KO-FI ── ( INFO )

ko-fi link for tips & commissions

commission slots: currently open!

have a oneshot idea you can’t quite flesh out? well here i am! i write fluff, angst, and smut. it could be a [reader x het / gay / reader fic] or [oc x charac] depending on your preference! also don’t worry about feeling that your idea’s “too freaked out”, i don’t judge and i’d be happy to talk it over in my messages!

writing depends on the length of your commission! drabbles take four days to a week at most, shorter works (1k-4k words) take 1 to 2 weeks, longer ones (5k-8k) take 3 to 4. any commissions greater than 8k words (such as multi-parts) must be discussed privately! :D

these are some of the characters i write for. you may message me in case your preferred character isn’t here! :>

the poppy war: altan trengsin, fang runin, yin nezha, chen kitay

attack on titan: hange zoë, jean kirstein, eren jaeger, mikasa ackerman, levi ackerman

smallville: clark kent, red k clark, oliver queen, lois lane

jujutsu kaisen: ryomen sukuna, itadori yuji, satoru gojo

house of the dragon: jacaerys velaryon, aemond targaryen, helaena targaryen

terms and conditions (more stated in my ko-fi)

payment must be made upfront

updates will be given throughout the process to make sure it’s up to the client’s expectation (but this does not mean unlimited revisions. a specific number of revisions are to be given depending on the work commissioned)

i reserve the right to post any commissioned pieces for my portfolio, especially x reader oneshots. clients that commission oc x character pieces may request to not be posted as courtesy

a few of my works for your reference:

the alchemy (clark kent, fluff)

mess up your white tee (i’ll do you dirty) (clark kent, smut)

clark kent groveling (drabble, fluff)

coffee for two? (hange zoë, fluff, long-fic)

crimsons (altan trengsin, angst)

champagne coast (altan trengsin, angst & fluff)

for more, kindly check #00:works or my masterlist!

reposts are greatly appreciated! xoxo

[yeiowrites]

you, rin, and sunzi the pig !!!! (fluff)

"Remind me why we're friends?"

Rin had her eyes narrowed at you, the fat piglet in her arms oinking as you pull at straps of your bag. "It's bad that I'm already carrying this pig up this hill. Don't make it worse."

You huff, scrunching your nose again at the smell of swine. You worried greatly about the smell sticking to your clothes, there weren't other sets you could change into once you two got back to your dorms.

There's no solid reason why you even chose to accompany her in the first place. As far as friendships goes, you were simply the only one out of the three other girls sharing the dorm that did not call her out for being dark skinned. That's not to say you both are best friends though.

With Kitay, sure, you study with him for days on end. With Rin? Not so much. You find staying with her decreasing your life span and increasing the wrinkles on your face.

"I don't even understand the logic behind this. How long has it been since Jiang made you carry it?" You ask, stopping on a random big stone to lean your weight as you drink from your flask.

"It is named Sunzi," Rin glares at you, taking the flask after you and drinking some herself. "And I don't know. He brought me down to this widow named Maung and asked her to give me a piglet."

"A piglet? And it's that big already?" You point at the sheer size of the pig, pulling back slightly when it—Sunzi looked at you and made a sound with its snout.

Rin had just finished placing down a small cup of water for Sunzi, taking a moment to look at its size as it rushes to quench its thirst. "Sunzi hasn't grown that much. I think?"

"You think? Rin, you carry that swine—"

"Sunzi."

"Whatever—you carry it every day. What, you just got used to its size?" You say, partly intrigued and partly confused.

"Think so. I got used to Sunzi's smell too," Rin looks at you, jutting her hips forward as she stretches her body with a loud groan and bone-cracking sound. She oinks at the pig, calling its attention, "Sunzi, c'mon you swine. We gotta go, there's still more for you to drink up there."

You frown slightly as you lift up the pig's behind for more assistance. Taking the small and shallow basin it used as a cup and slipping it into the sack on Rin's back.

"So you carry that pig up, then you carry it back down to Maung?" You ask, the two of you resuming the trek back up.

"Yup," Rin's voice strains ever so casually, "It's gotten quite easier, actually. I think it's easier with Sunzi here than it is with you."

You halt in your steps, "You did not just compare me with a literal swine."

Rin snickers, "Come with me a few more times and you'd definitely start smelling like one too."

"You two smell," Kitay pinches his nostrils together, eyes wrinkled as he sits a few feet away from you and Rin. His gaze set on the medium-sized swine rolling on the grass of Sinegard Academy's courtyard. "Please tell me you guys are showering after you get that down."

"Don't point a finger at Sunzi, it has feelings y'know," Rin says, slapping Kitay's finger away.

"Feelings," Kitay says in disbelief.

"Yeah. Yesterday, I said Sunzi'd gotten so much heavier and it heard me so it sulked the whole trip down." You play along with Rin, throwing her a quick side-eye as both of your lips quirk up ever so slightly.

The curly-haired boy beside you two simply grimaced. He hoisted the thick book beside him onto his thighs and opened it, already reading a passage.

It's so early in the morning that you couldn't even join Kitay in his early morning study session. The sun was still hiding when you woke up with Rin to head down the mountain, and now the three—four of you were watching the sunrise in the grass.

You watch Sunzi waddle around Rin's idle sitting figure. Her legs were laid flat onto the ground, arms stretched back and holding her upper body up, tanned skin glowing with the sunlight.

Sunzi was oinking somewhere near Rin's satchel. Your eyes narrow as you see it literally shove its head into the fabric, moving around until you hear a particular squeak! from it. Rin turns her head to you, and you turn your head to Kitay. Clearly you and Rin were the only ones noticing this.

Rin moves a hand and pulls the fabric down from Sunzi's head, revealing the greedy monster that is Sunzi themselves as they munch on a carrot. The crunch catching Kitay's attention as he laughs.

"You hungry pig, huh?" Rin calls out, smacking Sunzi's soft side.

You laugh, reaching across Rin's legs and rubbing Sunzi's skin as well. Patting the swine on its back before it twirls around until its snout was practically spreading slob all over your palm.

"Look at that, someone's clearly liking you for once," Rin teases, rubbing Sunzi's head lovingly all the while you take your slob-wet palm and rub it on Rin's shoulder, staining the thin fabric of her tunic. Rin's too late in smacking your hand away as you've successfully cleared your hand of slob.

"You fucking bitch," Rin sneers, mouth agape at her shoulder.

You grin, already pushing yourself up as Rin hastily tries grabbing at your ankle. Luckily, you manage to run a few steps away just before she stands up and chases you around the small bubble you four had taken for yourselves. Kitay's loud laughs echoing as you try to get away from Rin. Sunzi was definitely on your side as they waddled with you two as well, intercepting Rin with their big body every time Rin got close.

"Sunzi, you're not helping!" Rin says, forehead creasing.

"You're doing great, Sunzi," you reply back, holding two thumbs-up for the pig.

Kitay cuts in, slipping a bookmark in his book as he props his elbow on it. Head resting on his knuckles. "You two do know you're talking to a pig, right?"

You and Rin temporarily pause. Both of your shoulders heaving from running around like idiots.

Oink! Sunzi walks in between you two again, only now it nuzzles its head between your calves.

"Sunzi," Rin calls, sending you a look. "Attack him."

Kitay's eyebrows furrow but it was too late. Sunzi had already pulled its head away from your legs, snout pointed towards Kitay's direction. His eyes widen, suddenly closing his book.

"No, Sunzi, no," he drawls, holding a hand out.

"Sunzi, he called you fat earlier," you add, speaking as if Sunzi even understood your words. It might as well have because now it's oinking even more aggressive than before, legs moving faster until Kitay has no choice but to stand up and run away.

You and Rin laugh loudly, pointing your fingers at Kitay who looked stupid right then. He comes by the two of you, grabbing your sleeves until eventually the three of you ran around the courtyard with Sunzi the Pig at your tails.

hearts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

masterlist | ko-fi

[crybabybat]

You literally have to understand that ur closest friends and loved ones may very well have kinks or fetishes that gross or freak you out and they simply won’t tell you because they know it grosses or freaks you out. Like you have no way of knowing if your best friend is into necro roleplay if she doesn’t wanna tell you. Sometimes you date someone for years before finding out they have a thing for incest. Maybe your coworker likes ageplay and diapers. Who gives a fuck. Nothing changes between you knowing and not knowing except your own constructed moral outrage.

[shoyomegs]

INSATIABLE

girlfriend!hange x fem!reader

part of my pride event <3 + main m.list

tags: mdni, lesbians, use of any pronouns for hange, cunnilingus, face riding, tribbing/scissoring, biting, pet names, praise

god your partner was insatiable.

she had you folded in every position she could think of since they got home. on your stomach while she fingered you from behind, and now sitting on her face as she ate you out.

he didn’t mean to be so rough but she couldn’t help herself. the noises coming out of you only fueled them to keep going. feeling her own cunt throb with need.

after fingering you stupid, they knew they needed more. finally getting to taste you as she dipped her tongue inside of you all the way to your clit.

sucking harder and harder.

they could feel you trembling above them, already sensitive from the last three orgasms, your thighs were already clamping her head in place.

during her boring and tiring day at work all they could think about was devouring you when they got home.

so much so that he couldn’t help but dig his teeth in, the drag of the bone against your clit only made you throw your head back further. “g-gentle hange, please fuck” you muttered out.

she could tell you were trying to stave off your orgasm but now she was feeling antsy. needing to hurry you through this so she could rub one out on you. she grabbed you by your ass, pushing you forward so your clit would bump into her nose.

by the sounds of your moans he knew the sharp movements were working so he repeated it.

she had you riding her nose until you were folded over, grabbing the bed frame to steady your shaking form.

hange tried to be patient, licked up your cum and kissed your cute clit before pushing you on your back.

shoving himself between your legs. forcing your cunt down with her own. the heat and wetness from her slick only made the nerves in your clit burn hotter. she was so wet. all from getting you off.

“did so good for me princess, need you to do the same now” hange said, focusing on aiming her clit directly above yours.

your legs were sore and cramping as they were being held open by hange. her calloused hand gripping your thigh, the only thing tethering her through her pleasure.

one of your legs under her own and the other stretched out, your calf touching her ear.

your clit was aching and throbbing with the way she’d been abusing it.

“ngh— fuck, you’re so warm baby” hange moaned out through gritted teeth, one of her hands moving down to press on your lower abdomen.

she started grinding her clit fast and hard against your own. she was always aggressive when it came to tribbing. it was her favorite thing to do with you.

the sounds of your cunts and mixture of arousal only made her mouth water more. the sight of you, breasts out and bouncing made her move with more urgency.

“hange please—“ breathless, you could barely finish your sentence before she hit your clit just right.

your folds aligned with hers perfectly. it was like she was your perfect puzzle piece.

hange couldn’t stop himself from looking down to where you two were connected. the foamy white mixing into her pubes, the slight sweat coating your abdomen that she wanted to lick, all of it was only pushing her closer to her precipice.

and her? they looked more wrecked than you did. tribbing wasn’t the easiest activity but with someone with as much muscle and stamina as hange it wasn't as much of a struggle.

the clench of her abs while being covered in sweat, the furrow of her eyebrows while they tried to hold themself back from just slamming down into you, the scars lining their body, god she was so fucking sexy.

“come on, come on” hange muttered to themself. close but wanting to make you cum first, only wanting to reward herself after pleasuring you was done.

she knew her reward was coming with sound of your moans and arousal spilling out of you making it all the more easier to glide easier on you.

mumbling incoherent praises, hange pressed themself harder against you, using all their body weight and strength making you cum and herself right after.

"fuck, so good." he uttered with a whine in his voice. hange would've collapsed if not for their arm reaching behind them and catching themself.

your limbs were tangled in a sweaty warm mess.

you were barely able to catch your breath before hange disconnected themself and was suddenly hovering over you again, lining your neck with soft kisses and hearing her inhale your scent.

"you think you can go another round?" she asked after pulling away from you slightly, eyes wild with a smirk on her face.

who were you to say no?

🪽@shoyomegs

( divs by @pixopix )

🏷️ : @brunettebombshell72

[yeiowrites]

mess up your white tee (i’ll do you dirty)

summary: driving back to the kent farm after your internship, you see your boyfriend in his tight white tee… drenched in sweat. (inspos: this p-link + this tiktok)

warnings: MATURE (18+) / pure smut w light fluff / no plot, just clark wearing a white shirt / excessive description about cocks and dicks / overstimulation / oral (m) / groping / established relationship / no penetration / mild dirty talk / reader is ovulating, clark is free-use / semi-public sex (someone walks in)

a/n: oh my lawwwd this might be my best smut piece yet !!! pls do not hesitate to comment your thoughts & reactions, it motivates me a lot when u guys enjoy my work :3

gifs from @/zanephillips !

The front door of the Kent house jingles on your arrival.

The smell of Martha Kent's town-famous pies infiltrating your nostrils as soon as you entered the door. Martha, who usually was out of the house most of the time, seemed to have some spare time because she's baking again.

And God knows how happy you are that she is.

"Sweetheart, I set you aside some pies and muffins for you and Clark to eat over the weekend," Martha says, giving you a quick peck on the cheek like a mother would. "I have to go to New York with Lionel for a charity ball… you know we need the sponsors."

You hum, taking a utensil from the drawer to eat the sliced pie on the counter. "That's great, Mrs. Kent! Though I'm not sure Clark'd appreciate you going with Lionel."

"I know," she sighs. "But it's what I gotta do. I can't run the senate seat without sponsors, we need the funding."

The moment you feel the pie melt into your mouth, you're done for. You moan loudly, jerking your fork back and forth making Martha laugh.

"Sorry—have you told Clark about it?" You lean on the counter, voice slightly stuffed as you continued eating.

Martha shakes her head, "Still trying the right time to."

She sets the topic aside, beginning to talk about things happening in the senate. Both of you occasionally laughing when she talks about something particularly ridiculous that the other senators do.

It was a sweet and lighthearted conversation you had with your boyfriend's mother; it always is. Aside from the incredible being that is Clark Kent, you're also thankful that he had such a cool mother and a wonderful father behind him. Makes you feel all the more lucky to be part of such a family.

When you finish your pie, you feel a lot more rejuvenated. Like you could take on the world. Let fate give you their biggest challenge, who cares?

"Want another slice? I have one more—"

You spot Clark come out of the tool shed through the kitchen window, the white shirt he had on was littered with black stains and possibly some oil grease. The fabric clinging onto his body like second skin, barely letting his biceps breathe as he hoisted up some tool his shoulders, tongue darting out to wet his lips before he began heading elsewhere.

Your mouth waters, mind drifting off to the image of Clark underneath you, utterly ruined and glistening with sweat. Hips stuttering, cock begging to be tended to.

Sorry Martha Kent, I just found something else I wanna eat.

"Actually, I'll eat the last piece later with Clark," you tell her, putting on a sweet, innocent smile on your face. "D'you happen to know where he is?"

Martha's mouth forms an 'o', looking behind her to glance through the window. "I think he was at the shed earlier… you should probably go check the barn. I think he's fixing up something there."

You were already by the door when she finished, waving happily. "Thanks!"

A loud mechanical sound comes from the barn, practically reverberating all throughout the farm with how loud it was. You clasp your hands behind your back, discreetly walking inside only to see the first floor empty.

Your eyebrows furrow confusedly, hands coming apart to grip the strap of your bag, looking around the area for your white-shirt wearing hunk.

"You got home early," a voice comes from above.

You immediately looked up, an amused scoff coming from you as Clark leaned down on the wooden rails, grinning at you endearingly.

"Didn't you miss me?" You ask teasingly, face beaming as you made your way to the stairs, meeting with him at the center. Arms immediately thrown upwards to pull him close. Clark chuckles, not expecting you to lunge yourself towards him. Definitely not when he's sweaty and dirty.

But that's how you like him—sweaty and dirty.

"I missed you real bad, sweets. It was—oh—hard fixing the farm without a human radio beside me," Clark grunts in the middle of his sentence, suddenly feeling your hand over his clothed member, rubbing him gently through his jeans. "You okay? I just… I just finished bringing some heavy stuff up the loft and it's…"

Clark's words trail off as you began kissing the thick column of his neck. Messily licking the sweaty skin while your hand continues massaging him, your other one resting on his shoulder.

You feel his chest heave. A low, almost silent, groan leaving his mouth the moment you bite on the spot between his neck and collarbone, same time as you pull at the hairs on the back of his neck with your free hand.

The manly smell of sweat oozing off of him has you grinding your body on his. The hand you previously had on his center, slowly moving up and under his white shirt. His firm abs flexing under your touch.

Just as his eyes roll back, he snaps into reality, pulling away haphazardly.

"B-baby! What's gotten into you?" Clark laughs shakily, confused at the suddenness of your actions. "Look, I'm all dirty," he moves his arm up to wipe away the sweat on his forehead. "Let me take a quick shower and we can continue this, alright?"

Your face drops, "No."

He laughs again, this time with an expression that has you rolling your eyes. He stared at you like the word no was the least of his expected responses. "What do you mean no? Baby, I'm all sweaty—look, my shirt's dirty. I'm dripping of sweat, sweetheart, your clothes gonna get all messed up."

The smile he offers to you was a consoling one. Telling you that he'd really wouldn't want you to be with him in such a state wherein he's not clean and spotless.

You look at him through your lashes, lips separating as you stood on your tiptoes, moving close to his ear while he quickly leans down to your touch. "All the more reason to let me suck your cock, Clark."

When you pull back, you grin devilishly when Clark looks at you with bewildered eyes. His adam's apple bobbing uncontrollably. You push him back onto the steps of the loft, his body falling defenselessly on the top section of the stairs, the two of you hidden by just a few wooden panels.

Clark swallows on nothing, the heat of your voice has blood rushing into his cock, jeans tightening quicker than usual. You throw your bag somewhere in the loft, the rattle of your things being the least of your worries.

You turn to Clark, taking one more look at him; sweaty, flushed, and very much aroused. The evident bulge in his pants and shirt has you drooling.

You climb on top of him, Clark's hand immediately holding your body to make sure you won't fall back. You kiss him with much hunger in you, aggressively swiping your tongue and biting his bottom lip.

Your hips grind on his clothed cock, the rough material of his jeans making you mewl into the kiss. Clark lets you in without a fight, tongue tangling itself with yours as he has his own exploration underneath your top. Big, manly hands cupping your breasts through your bra.

You grind even harder on his cock, a coil building up in your core despite the two of you still fully clothed. You pull your hand up to slide underneath the waistband of his pants, feeling the weight of his hardening cock on your hand. The fabric of his boxers slowly getting wet by the tip.

Clark pulls away to let out a rough whimper, raspy and breathy, his forehead scrunching up with the way you jerk him softly through his boxers. The sound makes you feel hotter, urging you to ruin him even more.

The two of you separate for a brief moment, Clark's hands immediately moving to take off his white shirt, already holding the hem when you put your hand over his. You shake your head, smirking.

"Shirt stays on, handsome," you wink at him, leaning down to kiss the firm center of his chest, keeping his eyes locked with yours.

Clark throws his head back, grunting. You take the moment to hop off of his lap and pull his jeans just past down his knees. Clark helping you out to quicken the process, now equally as aroused as you are… probably even more.

His boxers tent shamelessly, the thin piece of blue fabric failing to hide the outline of his dick as you make out a darker colored blue right at the tip. Your mouth waters at the thought of his cock leaking just for you.

You pull down the waistband of his boxers, completely captivated at the way his cock proudly stands up, just barely hitting past your lips. The ridiculous size of it has you clenching your legs together, doing your best to fight the urge to just take him right then and there.

However, you had other plans, some that supersedes the ache between your thighs… like making sure Clark Kent remembers never to wear a white shirt when you're coming over.

His cock twitches on its own, the tip pulsing with an angry shade of red. It was so hard, you swore it looked like hurt. And for Clark, it actually did—even more so when you stare at it like it's the only thing you ever wanted. His hips move impatiently, Clark doing his best to stop himself from grabbing you and doing the job himself.

Finally, your hand cautiously grabs his shaft, involuntarily licking your lips at you began jerking it off, testing the waters as you flicked your eyes up to your boyfriend.

Clark's barely hanging on. His mind is going dizzier and dizzier by the second. Feeling his sanity hang by a single thread now that you're starting to move your hand even faster. Trying to hold in the moan in his throat when you put your lips around his tip, rolling your tongue around the fat head of his cock.

The salty taste of his pre-cum made you sigh contentedly, the vibration in your mouth making him twitch.

"You taste so fucking good, baby," you rasp, holding out your tongue to lick one thick stripe on the underside of his cock. Making sure you keep your eyes locked with his, not letting him miss a single moment of your version of heaven-on-earth.

"Oh God," Clark groans, now slightly high-pitched. His eyebrows furrowing upwards, lips falling apart.

He stays there, incapable of looking away from you as your tongue began slobbering all over his cock. Tasting and tracing every vein that trail from it, like an artist mimicking lines for their piece.

You take him in your mouth, slowly and deliberately, making sure to breathe through your nose as you already feel him at the back of your throat, lips stretched to the max as you did your best to take him in, both in length and in girth.

Clark's cock is only halfway inside of your mouth when you gag, the tip hitting the back of your throat making you swallow involuntarily. His hips jerk up, chasing after the tightness of your throat as the sound finally escapes his mouth.

The sound. The whimper.

It was brief, quiet, and subtle, you wouldn't have caught it any other day but fortunately today wasn't those days. The sound makes your insides swell as Clark finally falls back on steps defeatedly. His arms stretching to the back of his head, his biceps spilling out of the sleeves of his shirt, the thought of the fabric ripping because of it making you even more motivated.

You pull off his cock with a loud breath, gasping like you had just been submerged underwater way longer than you should have been. Your hand moves up and down the remainder of his cock—the part you didn't manage to suck—your other hand coming to your lips as you spat on it loudly.

A grin comes onto your lips, Clark's eyes rolling to the back of his head when he watches you rub your spit all over his cock. Making sure every inch of him is covered by you.

You put him back in your mouth, this time having an easier time fitting him in. When you began bobbing your head up and down his cock, tongue licking the shaft, Clark's unable to control his moans. Whimpers and whines spilling from his mouth, clearly trying to use whatever sanity he has to manage the volume of his sounds.

You don't want him to, though. You want him utterly wrecked, broken, head too deep in the pleasure to even worry about who hears his beautiful sounds.

"Fuck, baby—oh god, that's…" Your sudden hand on his balls has him moving uncontrollably. Clark pulling himself up to prop on his elbows, lips red from biting it over and over again, his lust-blown eyes staring at where your hand fondled with him.

He drops his head back, feeling you swallow around his cock. One hand stroking him event faster, the other massaging his balls. Everything around him begins to blur as he slowly loses the reins of his mind.

You let him thrust inside of your mouth, keeping your breath going through your nose, letting him hear the loud and dirty sound of your gagging.

"O-oh!" He gasps loudly, eyes closing shut when you moan around his cock. Slipping off for a second to run your tongue over his bails, popping each one in your mouth before taking his cock back in. "Fuck, that feels so good baby. Don't—mhmm—don't stop, baby, please, right there."

You don't stop the smile that tries to come on your lips, every time your name slips from his mouth is like an angel whispering to you the greatest of songs.

Clark's control disappears. Abandoning his care for anything else besides you on his cock.

You do a quick motion to pull his shirt back just a bit, giving yourself some eye candy—his sweaty abs flexing—as you hurriedly try to push him off the ledge.

Clark grabs the hem of his shirt, almost pulling off his white shirt when you stop him. "I said it stays on, handsome."

He groans, dropping the fabric from his hands and putting them on either side of your head. The moment he does, you know he's got nothing else on his mind now aside from getting himself off.

Clark begins to chase after his own release. Hips thrusting into your mouth with a roughness that has you stuck on the spot. Eyes watching every strain of muscle in his features. His cock hits the back of your throat multiple times but you didn't care. Not even a bit.

All you cared about, at the moment, was letting him finish himself, letting out every bit of frustration he has about the world inside the warm inside of your lips.

"There, shit—nnghf, fuck, stay like that baby," Clark says, whiney and breathy. Pleas of your name falling endlessly.

He feels the coil in his lower stomach twist even harder. The familiar white spots appearing in his vision as he clenches his teeth together, doing his best to tip himself off the edge without accidentally hurting you.

When your fingers tighten around the base of his cock, just enough to give him mind-dizzying pressure, he looks down. Your eyes locking with his in the most erotic way you could. Then he lets go.

Clark's lips split open to let out one of the deepest groan you ever heard from him. Ropes of his cum coating the inside of your mouth as he rides out his high, grunting and whimpering every time his dick touched the softness of your cheeks.

"Shit, that was… Oh fuck," he sighs, slowly coming back down to Earth as he looks around.

You grin at him, holding your tongue out to show him his masterpiece. "Baby." he says, running his hands through his hair as the aftershocks of his orgasm still made his thighs clench.

You swallow his cum without a question. Throwing your hair to the side as you shifted in your place, peeling off your panties from underneath your skirt.

Clark smirks lazily, thinking he knows what comes next.

Unfortunately for him, you weren't done yet.

You throw your panty over to him, Clark catching it with ease before he holds it close to his face, just enough to get a whiff of your wetness on it. His eyes darkening the moment he sees it absolutely drenched.

"You did so good for me, handsome," you purr, coming on top of him to nip at the neckline of his shirt. Licking the beads of sweat twinkling down his neck. The salty taste of the liquid making you hum contentedly. "So fucking good."

"Let me take care of you now, sweets. Must be so drenched for me, huh?" Clark tries to slide off your top, running his hands all over your sides.

You chuckle, the glint in your eyes telling him something different. "I'm not done with you yet, baby. Just relax for me, m'kay?"

You sit back up, sitting on top of his thighs, your skirt bunched around your hips to give Clark a sight of what's happening to you underneath that composed facade of yours.

Clark watches you with anticipation, tongue coming out to lick his lips as he tries to prop himself up with his elbows again.

"H-hey!" Clark stutters, eyes widening when your hands grab his cock again. It was still hard, leaking, and even aching. You're not sure just one release gets the job done. "Sweets, I just came…" he breathes, voice cautiously low. "It's your turn now, c'mon. Let me take care of you." He tries to pull you up from your position, maybe even have you sit on his face as a way to return the favor.

You don't budge though. You slap his hand away with your free one, leaning down to put your face beside his cock. The lewd sound of his cock sliding in and out your palm paired with the subtle tingles of overstimulation, and your erotic eyes, it gets the same fire inside of him burning again.

"Just give me one more, Clark. One more and I'll let you take me," you pause, tilting your head to his cock, spitting on it loudly, "…however you want."

Clark glares at you, jaw clenched and body tense, his eyes holding a sense of determination that tells you he's not turning down your offer.

A proud smile comes on your lips, giving the base of his cock one kiss before you start jerking him off. Using your spit and his pre-cum to slide it smoothly. You use both of your hands now, one at the top focusing on his tip, while the other moved up and down his length.

"Mhfm," Clark groaned, his tip being too sensitive right now. His face getting warmer by the second, body clenching uncontrollably. "B-baby, it's… oh… fuck."

"Yeah?" You raise an eyebrow, taking your hands off abruptly making him thrust upwards into nothing.

He looks at you wide-eyed, shocked and confused. You only chuckle at him, slowly placing your hand by his face, open palm by his mouth. Clark stares at you, awaiting your word.

"Spit." Clark gathers up his saliva for a second before spitting it all in your hand.

You smile, thanking him sweetly before you went back to your position. Letting the feeling in his stomach subside before placing your hands back. The hand with his spit placed over his tip, swirling his own liquid around the engorged head.

It was right then did Clark understand how fucked he was. How fucking dirty all of this is.

Worst of it all, he can't even do anything. He's fully at your mercy. Having to take everything you're giving to him without a complaint.

You find your pace, wasting no time to finally get that second release you desperately wanted from him.

Clark doesn't fight it anymore. He lets out every groan, whimper, and moan he has in him. Your name being at the top of the his lungs as he continuously called out for you, begging and pleading to let him come.

"Please, baby, I'm—I'm almost there baby."

"You gonna come f'me?" You tease, batting your eyelashes innocently.

"Uh-huh, keep going," Clark nods repeatedly, his features scrunching up as he feels it start to hurt, start to tingle. Somewhere between the pain and pleasure of the overwhelming sensation—that's where he is. Almost at the top. "Yes, baby, just like that."

You decide not to torture him even more, letting him have his release as you continued to move your hands with a faster pace. The sounds of his cries slowly getting louder.

Then, you hear a voice downstairs.

"Clark? You there sweetheart?" Martha Kent.

His eyes shoot open, hand immediately slapping over his mouth to stop his own moans. He looks to you with panic, but you only smile wider.

"I've finished baking!" Martha called again. Apparently she's been looking for you as well. "When you find her, head to the kitchen, alright? I tried a new recipe for my muffins, try 'em out."

You swiftly, and carefully, move to his ear, whispering: "Answer her."

He shakes his head, "No," he says quietly.

"Now," you say, dropping one hand from his length to his balls.

Clark's eyes roll back, taking his hand off of his mouth. "Y-yeah, mom, we'll check… check it out in a bit!"

His voice was shaky, but you applaud him from even trying. Staring at him proudly, stars dancing in your eyes as you hear Martha's great! see you! in the back, footsteps slowly disappearing.

Clark releases all over your hand the moment you sit back on his thighs, wet slit touching his bare thigh. An aching and almost painful groan ripped away from his throat as more strings of cum shoot out of his cock. Generously falling down the tip and onto the base.

Clark's breathing heavily now. Chest moving up and down after what felt to be like the last orgasm in his lifeline. It was so strong—so intense, he couldn't even wrap his head around what just happened.

Why you were still smiling at him as your tongue licked up the cum dripping on his length, as if you didn't just swallow it minutes ago.

You clean him up, his cock finally softening just a bit in your hold. You move up to him, resting your chin on chest. "You’re so pretty."

Clark's weak scoff enters your ear. Arm weakly wrapping around your back. "Have I been neglecting you or what?"

You laugh at him, kissing his lips lightly. "Never stop wearing white shirts."

When you start rolling away to get up, Clark tightens his hold on you.

"Oh, baby," he shakes his head, tongue poking at his cheek. "You're not getting off that easily. Up the loft, c'mon. It's my turn."

hearts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! xoxo

[yeiowrites]

just saw zombie apocalypse!hange and my life CHANGED. theyre so fucking attractive im combusting

[era-wao]

hange frommm aot

[yeiowrites]

SO excited to be writing for hange AAAAAAAAA theyve been my hyperfixation since january and i only got the motivation to write for them NOW 😫😫😫😫

[yeiowrites]

coffee for two?

summary: having a puppy crush on one of your regulars is definitely not for the weak. you learned that the hard way when you catch hange zoë, the tall and attractive scientist, together with a pretty blonde the same day you planned on asking them out.

pairing: scientist!hange zoë x fem!barista!reader

warnings: corny pick-up lines / hidden pining / mikasa, connie, sasha as part-timers!!! / no smut (yet) / kissing / reader is kindaaaa insane nd ovulating lol / inaccuracies on coffee making and science stuff / hange is awkward / levi and erwin special appearances / reader feels very deeply!!! / hange is afab but goes by they/them :) / wc: 8,976

a/n: can’t find the artist for the center pic, lmk if u know them !!

The first time you saw them walk in, your heart practically teleported into your eyes. You had no doubt that anyone who'd seen you during that shift would've described you anything else besides the physical embodiment of heart eyes.

Tall, lean, articulate, and... oh, have you mentioned tall already?

Hange, their name was.

Every time they'd walk into the cafe, your mind immediately goes into overdrive with every thought popping inside of your measly head. Their name branding itself like a trademark.

You assure yourself that this is nothing but a simple happy crush. That each time you write Where have you bean all my life ;) or You're brew-tiful, it's nothing but a little gimmick to spice up your rather calm and boring life.

Each time you call out their name in the smoothest, flirtiest way you could, they'd always smile at you shyly before muttering a lighthearted thanks. Walking out with the ignored coffee note in their hand and a nerdy red hue on their face.

Today was no different.

Mikasa personally hands you the tall coffee cup, already knowing you'd prefer writing Hange's name yourself.

You grab a burgundy marker, writing the five-letter name plus a heart and a sparkle beside it. Already feeling giddy as you write out a new one-liner you read online.

This must be decaf, cause you're just dreamy!

A small laugh leaves your lips. Half because of how stupid you probably look like to the other baristas working the shift right now, and the other half because you know Hange only ever takes decaf.

From all the times you've managed to make their coffee, it's always the same order: one large hazelnut latte, decaf, with two extra pumps of hazelnut syrup.

Sometimes, you think if they're feeling particularly happy about the day, they'd order a second time—a decaffeinated cookie butter latte with extra salted caramel cold foam. You don't know what goes on in their laboratory, but it must be something extreme if they're buying coffee that tastes like that.

"I have a hazelnut latte for Hange," you sing-song softly, leaning over the counter with a smile your mother told you could charm an elephant dead with. You hope it could charm this tall scientist walking over right—

"For Hange?" They clarify, smiling sheepishly. One that has their eyes crescent-shaped.

Unknowingly, you take your bottom lip in between your teeth. "For Hange."

They nod, adjusting their glasses as they lean over to the small counter to the side to grab a cup sleeve and some tissue. You feel a nudge on your shoulder. Connie. He was wriggling his eyebrows at you, subtly jerking his head towards them.

You narrow your eyes at him before turning back to the counter. They were just in the middle of slipping on the cupsleeve when you cleared your throat.

Brown eyes peer up at you. Big and round, drawing you in until it's all you could see.

You feel that same nudge but this time it's from under the counter. Connie's definitely hitting your ankle with his foot. You make a mental note then to buy him a meal from the diner across the street.

"It's a nice day out, huh?"

You mentally slap yourself. It was fucking raining, idiot!

An awkward round of silence ensues between you two. Hange throwing a look over their shoulder and to the wide window overlooking the wet streets. "Y-yeah! It's, uh, it's really nice y'know... if you wanna get wet in the rain or somethin' like that."

You really fucked up this time, you think to yourself.

Unable to shake off the embarrassment gnawing at your insides as Hange looks at you with a confused smile. Probably trying to keep themselves looking friendly enough so you wouldn't think of poisoning their coffee next time.

"Sorry, she just hasn't gotten her caffeine fill yet. Not really good with small talk," Connie interjects, bumping shoulders with you.

You widen your eyes at him, about to respond with something that'd probably either make the situation more awkward or make you look like a bitch when their sweet, sweet laugh fill your ears.

"Oh, no, it's fine!" They shift their eyes from Connie to yours. The awkwardness from their earlier smile now gone. "You're good. We've all been there. See, I like rain anyway. It makes job at the lab surprisingly easier."

"Really? How come?" You found yourself asking.

You notice the shift in their features. The surprise washing through their face in a refreshing wave. A small smile grows on their lips as they speak.

"Well, it's actually hard getting a pure water source. Tap water, even without it being extensively filtered, is still filtered and also unintentionally contaminated. That makes it difficult to use during experiments," their eyes keep yours locked, words flowing with such certainty that you'd think you have a script taped directly on your forehead. "Filtered and purified water, they've been enhanced chemically. It's a better choice but not the best choice. Rain water is pure water. It's free from contamination as long as retrieved in an open space, and it's not tampered with chemically," they pause, lips widening in a way that shows teeth, "It's the best choice if you ask me!"

You don't exactly remember where they began and where they finished. You were way too entranced with the way they spoke so knowledgeably about something. In such a cadence that lacked the patronizing tone you had grown used to as a child.

Seeing them look smart is one thing, hearing and witnessing them actually be smart without being such an arrogant prick is an entirely different thing.

If it weren't for the continuous ringing of the bell by the counter, you would've kept asking them about it. Kept on asking even the dumbest things just to hear the smooth sound of their voice talk again and again.

"You'd definitely have to let her visit you sometime," Connie says, drifting all around the floor with numerous cups in his arms. "She's a real curious spirit beneath those nasty aprons!"

"Hey!" You hiss at him, turning sharply.

Hange chuckles at you both, "Of course! You can definitely come by! Just let me know and I'll... I'll, uh, clean up the lab for your visit."

"M-my visit?" You feel the butterflies crash into each other. Air suddenly caught in the middle of your throat.

A beat passes by with you two staring at each other.

Then, they stammer, pathetically, "Yeah—I mean, well, uh, if you want to! I know how busy is it and... Oh! Uh—speaking of, I'll get outta your guys' hair! Can't believe I've been hogging you two all to myself," they laugh again, this time with a hint of awkwardness laced in their voice. They definitely noticed the small circle forming behind them waiting for their coffee.

You can hog me all you want, Hottie, you think, giggling inwardly. I'll throw away all these cups if that meant you'd tell me more about the benefits of rainwater.

You watch as Hange walks away. Throwing the bar one last look over their shoulder before leaving the glass doors of the cafe.

"Oh my god," you finally breathe. Knees suddenly growing weak as you grip the counter to stabilize yourself like a pathetic fifteen year-old having her first kiss.

You look behind you, "Connie, you fucking imbecile."

Connie scoffs, crashing into your shoulder with a light bump to get you moving. "Hey, I saved you from making a complete fool out of yourself!"

"You made me look like an idiot!" You whisper-yell.

"You did that to yourself, boss," he shrugs, taking the empty cup in your hands and replacing it with another. This time a paper coffee cup instead of the normal plastic ones.

You sigh, still replaying that last smile of theirs paired with an exchange of have a nice day! to each other. You'd definitely have a nice night... not sure about a nice day though considering the line of empty cups begging for your attention.

When the bulk of the customers eventually disperse after the morning rush, you're left to sitting idly on one of the stools at the far side of the bar. Mikasa waited patiently at the counter for any customers coming in, meanwhile Connie busied himself by making his own drink.

"Hey, Connie, did you see if they noticed my note on their cup?" You put your chin to the counter, resting your head sideways.

"Nah," he says. "I don't think anyone really looks at the stuff on their cup anymore. You can probably draw a dick on it and they wouldn't notice," a chuckle finishes his words, grinning at you like a little shit.

"What great observation," you reply, eyes rolling back in sheer annoyance.

You put your attention on your other staff. "What about you, Mikasa? D'you think they noticed my pick-up line?"

"Ew, you wrote a pick-up line?"

"Shut up!" You hiss at Connie, murmuring under your breath a second later, "I always do."

Mikasa purses her lips, already telling you an answer before she even gives one. "I didn't really notice them, boss," she gives you an apologetic smile, bringing her own cup of coffee to her lips. You drop your forehead to the counter with a loud groan. "but, well, for what it's worth, I think they seemed fairly happy talking to you earlier."

"What!" You shoot up.

Connie immediately ticks his head, "Wrong move, Mikasa."

In the blink of an eye, you easily cross over the counter and shoulder up with Mikasa. Your eyelashes flutter at her, face resting on your palms, "Tell me more."

"Uhh... you know, it's nothing, I just—" you shake your head, assuring her you'd love to hear about her thoughts. "—every time I see them, they rarely look happy. Always occupied. Then earlier, when you asked about the weather, they laughed."

Mikasa glances at you, then back at the customer in front of them, "Ah, well, don't take my words to heart. I'm just saying what I saw... and I think they were genuine when they said you could come by their lab." The squeal that leaves you was almost as loud as the way she closes the cash register.

"Really? Shit, I knew it was an invitation. Do you think they like me? Wait, oh god, imagine our first date at the laboratory!" You stomp your feet excitedly, drifting around the small space, hitting the shoulders of those nearest to you—which was, of course, Connie. "Mikasa, you are a genius! I knew it, I knew I hired you for a damn reason."

"To validate your delusions?" she almost seemed against hearing your answer.

Unfortunately, you let out a loud yes! to that very question. Ignoring all the stares from the customers waiting for their drink. You grab a waiting cup, taking a quick second to read the order.

"Don't get your hopes up, boss. A scientist that good looking is definitely tied," Connie, ever the pessimist, brings up. You all but fire him on the spot for such a thought.

"Actually, I think they're single."

To you, the world stills.

Mikasa's words hanging in the air like stars from the very sky themselves.

"How'd you know?" you and Connie drift over to her, carrying your own respective cups. The hopeful glint in your eyes rivaling that suspicious one in his.

She sighs, crossing her arms, finally relieved of her work as all the customers finally finish ordering. "My friend Armin is their TA. I think Armin mentioned Hange taking multiple overtimes in the laboratory."

"And that implied they're single?" You blurt out. Forehead creasing heavily as you stare at her dumbfounded.

"Hmm..." Connie shovels ice into the cup, lips jutting out in thought. "Yeah, I'm with you on that, Mikasa. I think they're single too."

You raise your eyebrows at him.

"C'mon, boss. Would someone in a relationship spend all their time holed-up in a lab?" He scoffs, puffing his shoulders like an idiot. "Of course not! They're probably burying themselves there for a lack of a significant other."

You smack the back of his head with the side of your elbow, receiving a complaint in return. "Don't use fancy words, Connie. It sounds weird."

"Excuse me?"

"I agree. That was pretty out of character," Mikasa adds.

You stifle a chuckle. Finishing the cup of iced coffee for a moment of reflection before you find yourself back at Mikasa's side.

"So, this friend of your's is their TA," Mikasa hums thoughtfully. "Did this friend ever mentioned seeing Hange anywhere else aside from the university? Maybe an apartment nearby I can add into my daily walk?"

"Wow, you've graduated from a barista to a stalker now," Connie remarks.

"Not really. Armin never mentioned anything like that. He says Hange's always at the lab, that all Hange ever talks about is their experiments. Though Armin really looks up to them so they must be a really nice person," Mikasa shares. Suddenly, she perks up, a brush of red already coloring her cheeks.

Your eyebrows knit. Mikasa's always calm and composed. She hardly ever looks tense or shy. But, you hear the bells on the door chime ever so softly. You turn your head, ready to look at either a sleep-deprived university student or a tired corporate worker, only to see a rather young-looking man.

You glance back at Mikasa. God, you know that look all too well. That poor girl's entranced. Bewitched, even.

That's how you look at Hange so you know it very well!

On that note, you scoot yourself over to the open counter. Finishing up the remaining pending orders in record time.

"Is that her boyfriend?" You throw a look at the pair by the cashier.

"Think so. I know Mikasa has a boyfriend but she never really showed me his picture," Connie responds, giving them the same look over his shoulder.

"They look... like it's their first time meeting," you comment, taking note of the way they stood so straight with each other. How their faces barely looked bright. Mostly they just talked, voices too quiet for the two of you to eavesdrop in anyway.

You watch as the brunette man adjusts the red scarf on Mikasa's neck. The small gesture made Mikasa sink into the thick piece of fabric even more. He lets a small smile come on his face before a jarring, annoying voice fills the cafe.

"I have an Iced Americano for Eren!"

Today, you have a plan.

Today, it's a Wednesday.

Wednesdays always meant Hange has some free time to spend an hour in the cafe with their cup of decaf and banana muffin heated for exactly two minutes. So, today, you plan on actually making a move on them.

Not just silly little notes on their cup, no. Today, you plan on actually going up to them and taking them up on their invitation the other day. The one where they'd happily take you out mid-shift, show you to their lab, maybe a little kiss here and there, then they'll bring you to the park and plan both of your futures while watching the stars—

"I can't believe you actually got dressed up today."

"Dressed up for what?" Sasha, your third part-timer, the one subbing for Mikasa today, asks out.

"For her parasocial crush on this innocent scientist working at our university," Connie deadpans.

He'd been in charge of making everyone's morning cup of coffee for the day, and so he slides a hot mug in front of you while an iced one to Sasha. She was already eating a pizza bun when he did.

"Scientist? Dr. Zoë?" She asks with a mouth full of food.

"You know them?" You gasp, clutching their shoulder.

Her big brown eyes widen with a particular bite, her cheeks expanding to twice its usual size. "Yeah thmm armnghh pre—"

"Oh, dear, eat your food first," you grimace. Connie laughing loudly as he points out how much Sasha likes the new kind of pastry. When Sasha finally manages to swallow the thick bite of bread, she swipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I was saying... They're pretty popular on campus, y'know? Them, Professor Ackerman, and Professor Smith," Sasha starts, taking a sip of her coffee. "I heard their classes were real tough. They extend classes for an hour or two before finally letting the students leave." She eyes you carefully before sighing, "At least they're tall."

"I knoooow," you drag, draping yourself over the counter with a lovesick smile. "Aren't they so dreamy?"

Connie rolls his eyes at you both, "You really gotta get yourself out there, boss. Go on a date for once."

"I am! I'll be taking Hange up on their invitation to their lab, remember?"

"They invited you? Really?" Sasha looks at you with wide eyes, hand instinctively planting itself on your shoulder.

"It wasn't an invite," Connie says before you could even speak.

"It is an invite."

"Nuh-uh. Didn't you see how they were trying to run away from us when I asked them about it?"

You scoff, "Yeah, well Connie, anyone'd run away if it's you asking them."

"For your information, I've gone on a date," Connie says with his entire chest. You already know what's coming next. "You haven't. And, what, you're a full on adult now meanwhile I'm still a college student?"

"An unemployed college student if you don't shut up," you snicker, sending him a death glare from where you stood.

"I'm just saying... If you really plan on approaching the poor scientist later, make sure you don't make a fool out of yourself like last time," he says, singing his words as if seeing him wasn't enough of an annoyance to you already.

The three of you head back to work at the drop of seven. People already ushering in to pile up for the morning rush.

Sasha manned the counter while you and Connie worked on the usual coffee and pastries. Before, you used to have their roles reversed. With Connie at the cashier and Sasha at the bar. Unfortunately you found that combo highly likely to lead to the cafe's bankruptcy.

Hour ten rolls by and your tall, brunette scientist is still nowhere to be seen. You could feel a significant decrease in your energy the longer you spend the day not seeing even so much as a glimpse of them.

By now the morning rush has already died down. Your cafe regulars sitting quietly at their spots with their laptops, typing away whatever it is they're doing. You make yourself another cup of coffee, pouring two espresso shots in your personal glassware before slipping to the storage. You rummage through the racks. Eyes shining when you see that good ole vodka bottle on the farthest part of the rack.  

You pour two shots into your glassware, fighting back the smile as you put the bottle back.

"Oh my god," you let out a contented moan, inhaling the remaining scent of espresso in your glass before it gets totally overpowered by the alcohol. The liquid slides down your throat, the slight burn keeping you sane. "This is perfect. I'm perfect. I can do this," you look at your reflection bouncing from the steel fridge, "you can do this."

You quickly fix the storage rooms for a quick minute. Arranging the cardboard boxes so they weren't crowding the floor. Throwing out all the plastic lying around and peeling off the random strips of packaging tape one of your part-timers neglected to direct to the trash.

You were about to head back to the bar when a figure blocks you head on.

It was Connie.

A smiling, scratching-the-back-of-his-head Connie.

"What are you doing?" You ask suspiciously.

"Hey boss!" He says with an oddly loud voice. "I think you should take a break. Me and Sasha got this. There's no customers... not until the lunch break anyway."

Your forehead creases, "What the hell are you talking about?" You take a step forward and immediately he moves to block the small entryway off with his body. "Connie, I will actually smack you in the head if you don't move."

"I swear, boss! We can take it from—" You push past Connie with a glare. Throwing off the arm he put up trying to stop you.

The regret seeps in right after you did that. The sight that greets you, waiting ever so patiently at the bar, was a hundred times stronger than the vodka espresso you had moments prior; Your tall, brunette scientist stands at the bar, a beautiful blonde right beside them wearing the same white coat you previously envisioned Hange wearing as they take you out on that laboratory date.

When their mouth opens and you see the genuine smile that rests on their lips, the laughter coming from something the blonde has said, your heart actually aches.

Like actually aches.

You haven't experienced a heart attack yet, but you fathom it'd be somewhat similar to what you were feeling right now.

It was way past closing time now. The three of you had waited for Mikasa's class to finish so she can come by the actual debrief. Now, you laid down on one of the couches with your arm draped over your forehead, shoulders slumped, spirits down lower than hell.

An actual cocktail sat on the coffee table for you, while your employees had their own beverages. Mikasa still had her dri-fit shirt on, sipping an electrolyte drink her boyfriend apparently got her. Clearly your personal love life was way more important than whatever plans these three part-timers have.

"I don't understand, were you two together?" Sasha's the one starting the conversation. A burger in her hand from the diner across the street.

"No," you drag out the word.

"Oh. Then is it a crush?"

You can't see the three of them since your eyes were closed, but had they been open, you already know both Connie and Mikasa would be shaking their heads at her.

"It could have been a date," you say, voice devastated. "It could have been a date, guys! Imagine. I could have been at the university right now. They could have been showing me around right now, we could have been flirting—god, we could have been flirting!"

A warm presence comes beside you. Mikasa. She has that usual apologetic look on her face as she sits on the nearby stool. 

"Are you sure they have a girlfriend? Like really sure?"

"Uh-huh," you groan her name, turning around the couch like a child. "They were so close. Literally. Their shoulders were touching. Hange was even laughing at something she said... I've never seen them laugh like that! Connie saw it too—right, Connie?"

He hums, lazily scrolling through his phone. "I think Hange even carried the umbrella for them both."

You sob, though not really the real thing, "God, shut up, will you?"

Connie does a zipper motion with his hands. Out of the three, he was the one that received the bulk of your mopping during the day. Having to hear you rant about that single moment during the entire shift, each drink being made was sprinkled with a little bit of despair for toppings.

By now he was pretty much immune to your lousy sobs and sudden mood changes.

"Hey, at least that means you can get over your crush and actually find someone to date!" Sasha suggests, bright and happy. "That is what we want... right? You to date someone?"

"No, I want to date them," you admit.

"Huh, I thought it was just a happy crush?" Connie questions.

"What do you mean happy crush, I literally styled my hair just for today!" You exclaim, sitting up on the couch. The three of them all looked like they had different opinions about the situation.

Mikasa's the most concerned. Still nursing your shoulder with soothing rubs like an older sister does to their younger sister, only now the role's are reversed because for once it's you who's unlucky with romance and not her. She's probably the most supportive of your little infatuation with Hange. Always handing you the counter whenever they're ordering, always encouraging you to keep on writing those silly little notes on coffee cups.

Connie just seems oblivious over the entire situation but trust he feels quite apologetic about it. He kept you company the entire day. Trying to brighten your day with his jokes of utmost stupidity and despair. He even let you take over the remaining orders for a while, anything to get your mind off of that tall, brunette scientist. After all, he was the one that stirred up this whole lab date with you and Hange.  

Sasha barely takes morning shifts so she seldomly witness you gush about Hange. When she does, it mostly you discreetly writing love notes on Hange's cup, nothing more than that. Though you do talk about your interactions with Hange in the cafe group chat a lot, Connie's pretty much brainwashed her to think it's just some lousy happy crush.

"Should I just give up?" You ask. The words feeling heavier than you anticipated.

Truth be told, you never really expected this happy crush to be so consuming. You never expected to think about them day and night, each time you get home and see your empty apartment. You never expected to wait for their presence every morning at the cafe, waiting for their usual order of hazelnut latte with two extra pumps of hazelnut syrup.

It was supposed to be just a crush. Something you foolishly started just so you don't feel bored and lonely every time you go about the mundane task of managing the cafe.

"Up to you, boss. There's plenty of good looking people coming by the cafe," Connie responds, stretching his arms out.

"Yeah, some of them even ask for your number!" Sasha adds.

You laugh dryly, letting a tired smile come on your lips.

"It's you who don't give your number," Mikasa notes, nudging you casually on the shoulder.

"I guess," you sigh, defeated.

You finally let them go now. Adamant on letting them go home before the streets get too empty. You do the last checks in the storage rooms and at the back door, moving to the entrance as you start locking up.

The walk to your apartment is quick and quiet. The sweet bald doorman you usually brought coffee to at the end of the day greeting you with a smile.

At your apartment, your shoulders slump almost immediately. Dropping off your bag at the couch, kicking off your shoes, and heading straight to the daybed you set up by your window.

The image of them laughing a few feet from the counter haunts you every time you close your eyes. Her blonde hair against their brunette hair. The height difference perfect for forehead kisses, or roughhouse hugs where their arms engulf your entire body, pulling yourclose enough that their scent invades your every sense—leaving you a signature of what romance is... or what it could have been, rather.

You imagined it so perfectly.

The idea of you and Hange going on coffee dates, learning about each other's preferences. You coming by their workplace just to drop off an extra cup of coffee and a kiss on their cheeks. Them staying at your cafe after hours, waiting until you've closed out so they could walk you home—or you walking them to theirs, you don't really care. The very idea, after all, was you and them spending the mundane moments together, filling it with a sense of familiarity and companionship.

Their oddly interesting fun facts revolving around everything science. Your cheesy coffee-related pick-up lines.

The story you'd tell your future children was already written in your mind.

Yes, you're insane.

Yes, you don't think you're the one to blame. It's your therapist from years ago that told you delusion is another way of manifestation.

You truly wonder how such a simple crush could snowball into this... whatever this is!

There's a wine glass on the counter as you finish your evening bath. Thirty-minutes in the bathroom with your trusty friend Eleanor certainly boosted your mood in a way. You pour yourself a generous amount, then a bowl of freshly popped microwave popcorn, taking both as you head to your couch.

For the next few days, you don’t bother showing yourself to the bar. Tending to all of the administrative tasks needed at the backrooms: managing inventories, balancing numbers, looking through résumés of potential employees—you name it, you did it.

You always check the clock before heading out to the actual cafe, deadly committed to making sure you don't catch even a single glimpse of that person. Whenever the coast's clear, you're helping Miche with the drinks.

Miche, the only other full-time employee besides you, who just recently come back from a week-long mandatory vacation.

Contrary to Connie, Miche's a silent worker. He barely talks. Whether to you or the customers — matter of fact he sniffs them more than talks to them. God knows the amount of customer complaints you've received because of it. You don't even think he gets along with the others part-timers.

The only good thing about it is he never fails in making his coffees. No complaints. Perfect brew every time.

Today, you walk back to the storage rooms, about to go continue whatever it was you'd left unfinished, not really feeling the vibe to lounge around one of the tables like you used to do.

"Fuck!" Miche hisses, immediately stopping you in your steps.

Turning around, you see him with his palm towards the customers, head bowing apologetically as liquid pools at the bottom of his shoes, shards of glass littered across.

"I'll take care of it," you mumble, darting out to get the mop at the back when Miche grabs your arm. "It's fine," he grunts, "I'll clean it up. That one's only missing a caramel cold foam anyway." You look to the cupholder, three out of four slots filled.

"Sure," you nod.

You turn around, bending your knees to open that small steel fridge where the cold foams were kept, heading back to the bar once you got it.

Even after you've poured the cold foams on top, sealing the drink up with a lid and placing it on the now-full cupholder, you hadn't realized how familiar the appearance of the drink was. Or, how there was only ever one customer who willingly chose caramel cold foam on their coffee.

The realization sets in a few moments after the group of coffees get picked up by some stone-faced guy named Levi. 

You had your back resting against the counter, stunned as you hold up a new empty cup, still too busy with your thoughts to begin with the new order. Before you could even begin to calculate the very possibility of them being there, you hear a hand land on the smooth slab of the open counter.

"What's—"

Words seem to erase themselves from your mind as you're face-to-face with a scowling Hange. Their thick eyebrows furrowed, black eyeglasses resting on the crown of their head as they squint at their cup.

"Hey, uh, I'd like to file a complaint?" They pause, rotating their cup as if looking for something, "There's nothing written on my cup. It's been that way two times now. Usually the barista would..." their eyes finally land on you, a still and unmoving image of you still clutching an empty cup in your hand. "...write a, well, something on it."

The two of you stand there utterly dumbfounded. You could feel the apples of your cheeks blooming with color already, your hands heating up—whether from embarrassment or not is something you're not sure right now—you hope they don't notice it.

You don't remember how long the two of you stand there. If not for that same man—the one that took the cupholder—walking behind Hange and clearing his throat, the two of you probably would have stayed way longer.

"I, uh—well, I haven't seen you these past few days," Hange chuckles awkwardly. Dropping down their glasses back to the bridge of their nose and shyly brushing the front pieces of their hair. "I thought you were, uhm, sick? I hoped you weren't though," they laugh again, this time louder and a lot more gracelessly.

You lick your lips. Every voice screaming in your head to just speak.

"Thanks for the thought, I guess," you say as you pull on a tight smile, "I... I wasn't really feeling all that well."

"Really?" Their voice heightens, "Why? What happened? Are you dizzy? Should you be working right now?! It's hard working sick. Are you missing a few workers? Maybe you guys can close up early so you can rest," words leave their mouth like a machine gun, spilling out endlessly with that tone of urgency and worry that has you feeling butterflies fluttering inside of you.

You laugh shyly, looking away from the intense brown orbs staring at you, "I'm fine now! Don't worry about it, Doc."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." You nod, pursing your lips.

They nod as well, slower than you did, one eye narrowing as if checking for the validity of your words. That man from before walks by one more time, clearing his throat again, prompting Hange to hand their cup to you.

You raise an eyebrow, gaze flicking from the small dorky smile on their face to the blank cup. "My name's Hange Zoë. I don't think we've been properly introduced to each other."

Replying back with your name, you jerk your head towards them, "The cup?"

"Ah! Well, you weren't here the past few days, you weren't here earlier when I got my first cup too. You can write my name on here now," they explain, the smile on their lips widening until it practically brightened up their whole face.

You feel something warm blossom inside of you, fighting the urge to smile back as you grab the marker on your apron's pocket. Before you can touch the cup, Hange uses the sleeve of their white coat to wipe the condensation off. A small dry space left for your writing.

Focus! You're moving on, remember?

You shake your head subtly, proceeding to write the five letters of their name and pulling away.

"You forgot the note."

"Excuse me?"

"I mean the note. You always put a note on my coffee. Usually they're pick-up lines but—"

"Hange, we have to go," a tall, blond, hair-gelled man in a formal attire comes by behind Hange now, his voice was deep and sophisticated. "We're going to be late for the lecture."

"Yeah, I'm comin'! Just a sec," Hange says, turning their back at you expectantly.

You swallow down on nothing, biting the inside of your cheek, "I can't think of anything to write."

Complete lie. You memorized fifty pick-up lines related to coffee after the first time you saw Hange.

Disappointment washes over their features only to be replaced by a hopeful one a few seconds later. "Of course you can! C'mon, don't be pressured by them. The lecture's not staring for the next—" they look at their wrist, smiling, "—two minutes!"

"Fine, whatever... don't look at it now, though. Look at it later," you tell them.

"Of course."

Once you've finished, you can't help but comment, "I didn't know you read them before." Looking away as you speak, too flustered to look at them straight.

Their response comes in a few moments later, in a quieter voice as well, "I do read them... a lot of times, actually. I—Levi! What's with the pulling!" their shoulder gets pulled before they can even finish their sentence.

"That's enough flirting, four-eyes. We gotta go," the man says monotonously. He spares you a glance, "Apologies. You two can continue this another time."

"It's okay," you say, unsure. "And we weren't flirting, by the way."

Hange makes a noise of protest, a laugh escaping you as you watch them try to pull off Levi's hand on their shoulder all the while the hair-gelled man held the door open for them, waving at you.

Your shoulders relax, finally. The moments that had just gone by only registering to you now as you feel a plethora of emotions run through you.

They noticed me being gone. They were looking for me every time. They read my notes. They wait for my notes. They—don't they have a girlfriend?

"Where's my coffee?" A customer speaks out, tone displeased.

You snap out of it, blinking a few times before bowing apologetically. Your body turns around and Miche's already intercepting you, handing a cup of coffee to that very customer.

"Took you long enough," was all he says, wrinkling his nose at you.

"You sure you don't want us to stay, boss?" Mikasa asks, already dressed in her casual clothing.

"Yup! All good here. I just need to do some extra auditing on stuff," you assure them with a smile, "Be safe, okay? Message the groupchat once you guys get home."

Mikasa and Connie acknowledge your words with a hum, waving their arms at you, the door jingling as they leave.

You wait until they've reached the bus stop, watching from the big window of your store as they got on and the bus speeds away. An overly-excited grin creeps onto your face, already fishing out your phone from your pocket.

Before you get to even message that number on your phone, three loud taps on the glass window makes you jump. Your heart practically escaping your ribs.

Hange's face stretches into one of embarrassment. Their chestnut eyes crinkling upwards with a slight laugh you didn't really hear. Your hand was placed right over your chest, breathing heavily from the sheer surprise.

You walk to the front door, push your head out, and call them, "Did you have to do that?"

This time you hear their laugh. Light, sweet, and gentle. Way more addicting than you'd expect. Hange jogs up to the front of the cafe, holding the door with a hand as you stand up straight.

Their hair was way more disheveled than usual, freckles in full display as you flick on the lights to your cafe. Gone was the plain white doctor's coat as they now wore a khaki-colored trench coat over their red and white pinstripe button-up.

"You look..."

Cute? Adorable? Kissable?

"...nice. Really nice! I, uh, I don't really have any clothes to change into in the cafe right now." You look away out of embarrassment, resorting to walking over to your seat and slinging your bag on your shoulder.

Hange's cheeks heat up with color at your compliment, though thankfully you were too busy worrying about your own coyness.

"It's fine! You look really nice today anyway... I mean—you always do. You just, well, ha... look really nice today—tonight," they practically trip all over their words, choosing to end that little statement with a carefree laugh to maybe lessen the tension.

You laugh with them, finally having the guts to look straight at them. The two of you descend into a rather awkward silence, standing still in the empty cafe for god knows how long. Too shy and too anxious to make any moves.

Fortunately, that awkward silence is finally broken when your phone sounds with a notification. The coffee groupchat's name popping up with two separate messages.

"Sorry, it's Mikasa and Connie. They probably just got home right now," you say, wrinkling your nose habitually.

"Oh, that's great!" Hange responds, "Do you wanna, y'know, go right now? Or if you still have stuff to do—I can wait for you, no biggie."

"Yes—No, I mean, it's fine, I'm done already! Double-checked the stuff out back as well," you affirm with a smile, shaking your head lightly.

Their lips stretch wider, "Great!"

For the next thirty minutes, the two of you walk by the streets of Shiganshina with nothing but a few lousy questions and a dream.

You've asked them about what they do, when they started, where they came from—all the basic facts you already did know but just wanted to hear it come from them personally.

Hange was definitely no different. They asked you about your coffee shop, how you started, what your favorite coffee was, if you bake or cook the food and pastries; you honestly began to think they were asking so they could apply as a part-timer.

When you brought it up, Hange was cackling.

"Believe me, I have nothing against working at a cafe. I actually think you guys are the absolute best," they say, taking bigger steps to overtake you and change sides as you cross the road, "It's just funny. I don't think I'd be a good coffee maker. I might blow up the shop."

"Speaking of blowing things up, have you blown up anything?" You suddenly ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

They hum teasingly, looking to the sky, holding their chin as if they were searching the depths of their memories.

"Zero. The only times I've ever caused a boom was because it was necessary," Hange finally answers after a minute of thinking. Giving you that fake look of arrogance that you notice they like doing.

You raise an eyebrow, "Really?"

They nod assuringly, yet that good-for-nothing grin tells you otherwise.

"I'm no scientist, doc, but I'm sure a boom is almost never necessary for something." You jerk your eyebrows at them, letting the side of your lip extend as Hange finally drops the look. Both of you laughing loudly once more.

Once the laughter died down, you and Hange walking in a comfortable silence now, you couldn't help but feel warm beside them.

Who would've thought you'd be spending the last work day of the week going to your used-to-be-ex-crush's workplace? Let alone be able to tease and hold a conversation with them without turning into a tomato.

Well, who are you kidding? You wrote your number as their little note, dummy.

Get yourself together. They have a girlfriend, remember?

The two of you soon arrive at Hange's building. They flash a smile at the security guard, grabbing the visitor lanyard he was holding and placing it on your neck.

"I work on the twelfth whenever I'm not in the university," Hange shares.

"Do your friends work there as well?"

"Nah, not really. Erwin's in International Relations while Levi's in Mathematics. My friends in the lab usually stay in... y'know, the lab." Hange rocks back and forth on their heels, pursing their lips until their cheeks puffed out.

You nod, "How's university then? I hope it isn't as stressful as mine."

"You're still in uni?" Hange turns to you, pressing the elevator buttons.

"Mhm. I couldn't take all the required units at the same time because I had to look after the shop... with my progress, I think it'll take me two more years to finish," you ramble, watching as the floor numbers slowly increased. "But don't worry, I'm not underaged or anything. We're the same age! I swear!"

"I'm not doubting you on that," Hange chuckles.

Your eyebrow arches once again, an idea popping in your mind, "So you're saying I look old?"

Surprise colors their face again, immediately raising their hands as if in surrender. Their eyes wrinkle with slight embarrassment, stammering as they try to explain themselves. You on the other hand simply continue the act, glaring at them playfully.

The elevator door opens after some time. A clinical-looking room appearing into view. The walls were lined with glass cabinets containing laboratory paraphernalia and some disorganized rows of worn-out books. Counters and tables were littered with either different notebooks and loose-leaf papers or trays that had test tubes holding funky-colored liquid. The largest piece in the room was a wheeled-whiteboard that had all kinds of calculations and marks.

Before you can look at it longer, Hange thrusts themselves in front of you, blocking your view with their tall stature. "Shit—I, uh, forgot to clean up... kinda," they chuckle dryly, scratching the back of their head.

"Do you wanna head back down? I can show you the specialty rooms! Or maybe the dry labs? I heard we just got in some new high-powered computers from the government. That's a lot of—"

"You have this whole place to yourself?" You push past them gently, darting your head to the side as you looked around even more.

"Well not really. I share it with three others but they usually get off early. Sometimes interns do their experiments here but most times they stay at the experiments hall and meeting rooms downstairs." They take a step back, blocking your view again with a sheepish look, "So, uh, yeah, I usually do have it to myself. Anyway! Downstairs?"

You look at them, finding the shy look on their features way too persuasive. So with a sigh, you nod, heading back inside the elevator as Hange loudly exclaims ha-ha!

That little research facility tour lasted you both two hours of more walking before you decided it was time to head home. Instead of letting you go home via taxi, Hange offered to walk you home—or as near to home as you'd let them.

You had no problem with that, you loved to walk. In fact, you'd happily walk the entire city if Hange'd accompany you.

Alas, all good things have to come to an end.

Your fairytale does in some random ice cream parlor down the street from your apartment building.

Hange was across from you, eating their abomination of an ice cream as they specifically ordered two scoops of mint chocolate chip with all of the toppings available.

"Still can't believe you like mint chocolate chip," you mumble out. Having grown comfortable with teasing them now.

"I can't believe you chose coffee crumble. Aren't you tired of coffee yet?" Hange seems to be the same with their response.

The two of you laugh at each other, mumbling touché like some high school kid at their after school hangout. Only difference is right now you two were the only ones inside of this ice cream parlor.

You, Hange, and a middle-aged man who looked too tired to worry about the blue-white striped hat slipping from their head.

This is nice. Your mind soothes the fluttering mess inside of your stomach, This must be a normal occurrence for their girlfriend. Late night ice cream runs.

And there it is again.

They have a girlfriend.

That singular piece of information prompts you to stand up from your seat. Nervously dusting off your sleeves as you grab your bag.

"Are you okay? Something wrong?" Hange quickly asks.

"Oh, ah, well it's way past..." you look at your wristwatch, trying to think of a quick excuse, "...the time I should've been at home."

Their eyebrows crease in confusion. Nevertheless, they stand up as well, wiping their hands over their thighs, wiping their mouth with a nearby tissue. "Yeah, yeah, sure—just give me a sec."

Standing underneath the dingy signage of the ice cream parlor, streets empty and windy, Hange stays there with you in the same exact awkward silence as when you two had first met.

"I really enjoyed today," you break the bubble, giving them a timid smile.

"Me too," Hange agrees, following you as you walk down the street where the only lights remaining were that of the street. Shops all closed off now. "Not everyday someone actually wants to tour the empty facility with a crazy scientist."

You can't help the laughter that bursts out of you, "You're calling yourself a crazy scientist now. That mint chocolate chip really is bad for you."

Their eyes soften at the sound, lips parting in a way that almost scares you. They offer no argument however.

"I mean it," they began, "I really did enjoy tonight."

Your heart jumps. Having to physically restrain yourself from squealing too loudly.

"I... ah," a shaky breath was all you could return.

"Thank you, Hange," you take a daring step towards them, throwing all your sanity out of the window.

Hands place themselves on their shoulders, willing them to lose a few inches of height just to be as your level, and after that, you feel just how soft and textured the skin on their cheek was.

Your body pulls away quickly, Hange's brown eyes illuminated by the faint glow of the warm streetlight overhead. Their eyes were round with surprise... and intrigue? Your lips part the same time theirs do, the stupidity of what you had just did—kissing a person in a relationship—only dawning to you right then.

Before you even manage to utter the disgusting words that is your apology, a hand had already snaked itself around your waist. Your body is pulled forward with a force that knocks the air straight out of your lungs, their face coming in so closely and so suddenly that you lose all rational sense.

As if there even was some left after you'd kissed their cheek.

Plush, broad lips press onto yours, perfectly molding between them as if they were made for your mouth. A warm and gentle muscle slips out and slides across your bottom lip, you all but gasp as the hand around you squeezes the nearest bunch of fabric, holding with it the muscle at your waist.

Your hands come up to hook at the back of Hange's neck. Eyes closed, inhibitions thrown out into the road. You were taking every last bit they were willing to give you, enjoying every second they were spending exploring your own mouth.

The way their tongue tangled with yours was intoxicating. Your senses zero in on the lingering taste of caramel on their tongue, hindering you from noticing just how tightly they're holding onto your body now. Pressed flushed onto them, big hands clutching you close as if you'd disappear.

Hange kissed in a way you never imagined. That says a lot considering how much you'd used them as your material whenever you had to take a train down to orgasmville.

You'd always imagine them as inexperienced; someone that would pull away in less than ten seconds with a random laugh, or a toothy grin, mumbling an apology for being bad at kissing—which they're definitely not. The first kiss you imagined having with them was in a random theatre, like how most awkward first kisses go. They'd bloom red in embarrassment, a stuttering mess under your gaze.

You never imagined them like this—hungry, aggressive, and... well, hot.

A sharp hiss leaves their lips as your fingers pull at the hair close to the back of their neck. The intensity of their kiss coming back tenfold as they smash their lips onto yours harder, sucking on your tongue as if it's their lifeline.

The skin under your clothing was getting more and more warm. You could feel the fabric of your panties slowly getting wetter, your core clenching uncontrollably. It took everything in you not to grind on them right then and there.

The kiss seemed to go on endlessly. The air from your lungs slowly disappearing the longer this continued; You didn't want it to end, scared thinking about what'd happen once you—or they—pull away.

Are they going to be shocked and yell at you to never see them again? Are they going to scream that they have a girlfriend? Are they going to just turn around and walk away like it's nothing?

You don't get to overthink much because a loud honk interrupts you both. The blur of a yellow cab with its blinding headlights dash by as you two jump away abruptly, your chest heaving up and down. Even as it had drove off, you couldn't look at Hange right away.

Both of your heavy breaths lingered in the air, loud in such a quiet street that you couldn't help but feel funny and somewhat excited. The adrenaline of just finishing a sudden make out with someone you should definitely not be making out with rushed through your veins like caffeine.

It didn't help that this literally happened at some street close to your apartment building. You two could've been seen by—literally anyone!

"That was, uh," Hange's voice sounded heavily then. Croaky and groggy, deeper than it definitely is.

You turn your head to them, feeling a tickle inside you as you see just how swollen and messy their lips are; your gloss was swiped all over them, red lipstick ghosting their skin.

"You kind of have a—uh, mess," Hange points out. Their hand darts out and holds your chin, thumb poking out and wiping the side of your lips. You figure it's your smudged lipstick. "Sorry about that." A toothy smile lights their face, the one you imagined.

"It's... wow," you laugh dryly, truly at a loss for words.

The awkwardness seeps in and you two can't do anything then but laugh at each other. Embarrassment evident in the way you two tried to steal looks at each other all the while trying to act chill about the entire situation.

"Is your apartment here? I forgot—got kinda sidetracked there. I should bring you to your building, it'd be foolish of me to just leave you here—but, uh, if you don't want me to—that's fine as well. I can go now if you want me to." They shove their hands in their pocket, rocking on the heels of their feet.

You smile, sucking in your cheek like a little schoolgirl. "I can head home myself now, doc. Can you?"

"Can—Can I?" They echo your words with heavy disbelief before scoffing lightheartedly. "Yeah, of course, I can."

"Great."

"Great."

You're definitely fucked.

hearts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! if you liked what you read, you could consider buying me a coffee :) xoxo

[yeiowrites]

YEIOWRITES!!!!!!!! DROP AN ALTAN TEMPERATURE PLAY FIC AND MY LIFE!!!! IS!!!! YOURS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HEREEE IT IS 🤭🤭🤭

[yeiowrites]

temperature play w/ altan trengsin (fem reader!) ꔫ  ࣪ ˖ ♡

At some point, you truly thought your last moments would've been the sight of your own members hauling you into the prisons of Chuluu Korikh. That probably would've been better than being face-to-face with your commander, shivering like a fucking leaf, with literal icicles forming on your lashes.

Altan was barely feeling the coldness. Seated on a deeper corner of the cave, warming his own body up with his fire. You could briefly make up the few tendrils from afar.

Why wasn't he helping you out? Well, perhaps because of the last conversation you had with him which consisted of you cursing him out for his attitude, denying his two attempts of helping you get warm, and promising you'll get out of said cave without needing his help.

One thing about Altan is he takes orders. Religiously. That's why you can imagine that shit-eating grin on his face right now, watching you shiver like a leaf on a windy day.

You hiss sharply as a particularly harsh wind hits the inside of the cave. Nearly knocking you over as you sit perfectly still like a block, knees to your chest, breathing into that small space you made with your knees. You hear crackling from deeper inside the cave, no doubt that was Altan trying to make your life harder.

Well, technically, it was you making your life harder. You could've fixed this hours ago but no. You chose this.

"It's okay... Just a few more hours... Qara's coming, right? The others... they're looking for us," you whisper to yourself, cradling yourself even tighter. Your breath turning cold in quicker than anything, not even giving you enough relief for at least a moment's warmth.

Your head's spinning, vision blurring. You can barely think straight as the coldness seems to overpower you in every possible way.

You try to focus on something—anything, really, anything just to keep your mind sharp and aware of your surroundings. You have to see this through. It'd be such an anticlimactic ending to die in a random cave all because of hypothermia. Not even because of a fight.

The crackling noises louden yet you can't find the strength to lift your head. You can't even move your lips now because they hurt when you do, the skin seemingly snapping whenever you attempt to move.

Altan had been cozying himself in his little corner when he noticed your body go completely still. You were no longer shivering, shaking. Your head had gone perfectly limp on top of your knees.

He'd been watching you from the start. Manipulating the fire he'd conjured up depending on his mood; increasing it when he felt like mocking you, decreasing it when he felt like it. Now, he'd put it out temporarily only to keep a small bundle of fire inside his palm.

"Huh," he huffs, towering above your body with a sly smirk. "Looks like you didn't quite get out of the cave alive."

"What the fuck?" Your eyes snap open as best as they could. Head shooting up so fast you swore you gave yourself another injury.

You were naked... under a big piece of clothing.

Not your clothing, no—it was too big for you. The armholes were too big, the fabric was too think, and it was covered in burn marks.

It's not yours, it's Altan's.

Fuck was the first word you thought of, about to go hysterical when you realize you are actually naked in the middle of a cave.

Not to mention, it was still damn cold. The winds were still blowing, you could still feel it, but the seemingly undying bonfire by your side kept the right side of your body perfectly warm.

You swallow nothing, feeling the muscles in your dry throat move. "M-my clothes," you mumble, looking around for your clothing.

You notice a small pile not far from your feet, and so you stretch towards it. Before you could reach it though, the fire beside you disappears with a snap of a finger. The rush of coldness appearing as soon as it does.

"The princess is awake, finally," that irritating, grating voice speaks from behind you.

"You asshole," you snap your head towards him, eyes narrowing as you try to pinpoint his figure, "What did you do to me? You really took advantage of a girl that's practically freezing to death? Are you really that much of an animal?"

You were practically screaming hysterically at him. The coat clutched tightly to your chest, knees instinctively pulled to your chest.

"I will tell Commander Tyr about this. He will know—"

Your words are cut off by another sharp gust of wind and a bundle of clothes thrown towards you.

"Go ahead," Altan says, voice irritated, "If it weren't for me, you would've stayed damn dead."

You gasp, "I wasn't dead!"

"You were. Your heart stopped beating. I had to strip you so I could warm your body up again, get your blood flowing," a body thumps at your feet. Altan's leaning by the wall, crimson eyes standing out from the dark environment.

"And for the record, I didn't do anything besides keep you alive. Don't even think about me taking advantage of you. You're not my type."

"Oh yeah, what's your type? Some prostitute that preferably takes a silver coin as payment? One that handles your ego, probably?"

Altan responds, "You can stop being a smart-ass and just thank me, you know? Maybe then I'd put back that fire beside you."

"Always needing an affirmation," you huff disbelievingly, "I see why you stick close to Tyr. He loves giving out praises."

He laughs at you. Deep voice bouncing against the cave's walls.

The silence he responds with doesn't bring you any ease. Your clothes weigh heavy on top of your feet. The wind was slowly creeping up on your skin again; goosebumps rising on the skin of your shoulders, all the way down through your bare spine.

You could feel it. The coldness. It's knocking at you on all fronts and yet, you can't move a thing.

If you stand up to get dressed, you'll lose this little game with Altan and just go back to shivering in some corner. You wouldn't hear the end of it, surely. If you don't move, you're just practically letting yourself get hypothermia for the second time.

Fuck. You're at a bad place. How long do the others have to take to get here?

A prickling sensation disrupts your train of thoughts.

It was at the balls of your feet. A warm, almost fiery sensation nearing itself on your skin. A kind of warmth that, in a way, fought off that coldness quickly consuming you.

"What're you doing?" You tried your best to keep you voice stable, hoping to every god there is that he doesn't notice the way your lip quivered, or how your breath hitched when you felt the skin of his hand on your feet. "Trengsin, what the fuck are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" His crimson eyes snap up, immediately meeting yours. You notice his head tilt as a beat passes by in silence.

A fire conjures itself from his other hand, one that formed a ball above his palm, strong enough that it lit up the surroundings. Strong enough that it made the conniving stretch of his lips visible. Amusement dances in his eyes as he scans over your figure, taking in the way your hands trembled as it clutched the fabric of his coat.

"I'm keeping you warm. Can't have you dying of hypothermia again." Altan snickers, something in his eyes shifting, "Are you still cold?"

You feel his hand by your ankles now, moving at an agonizing pace up your calf, stopping right before your knee. Then his hand moves downwards again, utilizing his own powers as he lets his palm warm you up, soothing the goosebumps on your skin. He keeps his eyes on you as he repeats that movement many times, the muscles on his face twitching whenever he notices your shoulders jerk from the coldness.

Altan shifts his body so he was facing you fully. The ball of fire on his free hand gets thrown at the small pile of wood beside you, giving you enough relief to fight off the chills.

"I can warm you up if you want me, princess," that sarcasm in his voice never left, "But you have to speak up. Not bitch, okay? I mean speak up like a good girl."

The skin on your forehead creases as you glare at him, "Go fuck yourself."

He had clearly expected that because then he's pulling off the coat from your body. Your strength definitely no match for his as he took it straight off of your body with one clean tug, leaving your naked body vulnerable to the cold winds.

You shuffle quickly, lurching forward to grab the clothes on your feet only for Altan to do the same. The two of you freeze as both of your faces come a few inches away from each other, eyes firm with very different reasons. He still had that good-for-nothing smirk on his face, as if willing you to do your next move.

"My cloth--" you shiver, letting go of the hand you had above the pile to hug your chest, the gust of wind seemingly working against your favor. "My clothing. Give me my damn clothes, Trengsin."

He lets you take the pile from him, chuckling darkly at you. "That's not really gonna warm you up though," he lets a small tendril of fire escape the tip of his finger, letting you feel just how warm he could make you, "I can."

"That is if you're up for it." Altan then pulls away, sitting back on his haunches. "Gotta tell me if you are. I can't read minds." The casualness in his voice made your blood boil. He's enjoying the fuck out of this.

You clench your teeth together, gripping the pieces of clothing in your hands. The coldness was getting to you. It was a damn surprise you had stayed that long, naked, and not passed out yet.

Your legs were pressed together, keeping your core as shielded as you could from the cold--or from Altan--but you couldn't deny the tingling sensation you'd been feeling from the moment you woke up. That warm, tingly feeling that made you feel shy of yourself.

It felt like something was coming out of you... dripping out of you.

You glance at the fire beside you, resorting to nearing your hands towards it as you slip on your shirt. The lower garment you kept over your knees, letting the leg holes cover what it could of your legs. Again, you place your hands close to the fire, rubbing them together, then pressing your palms onto your legs to warm them.

That routine continued for a few times before the fire gradually weakened until, eventually, it was put out.

When you turned your head towards where Altan had been sitting last, he was still grinning at you. Of course he is.

Time passes by cruelly. You don't remember how long it had been before his hands returned to the balls of your feet, quickly climbing up your calves just like before. The only difference now was that both of his hands were on you, giving your legs equal attention as he lets the darkness of the cave leave you to your own imagination.

"I just need your word, princess. Tell me to keep you warm," Altan says, voice dropping. "Politely, too," he adds.

In the next moments, you found yourself face to face with him again. His body caging yours to the floor, crimsons staring you down, lips nearly brushing over yours; Both of his arms were on either side of you, on all-fours in between your legs.

He's waiting for you... for your polite words.

Your tongue carefully darts out to lick the dryness off of your lips, finding yourself at a loss for words, asking all the gods above how you have possibly ended up in this rather cold predicament.

"Go on..." he urges you one last time. Watching the way your gaze moved from the rough shadow of his lips to his eyes.  "I know you're feeling it too."

Swallowing down every inhibition you have, you finally speak, "I'm cold, Trengsin."

And with that, you hear the lowest, deepest chuckle rumble from his throat. No words leave his mouth as he lets his action speak for himself; pressing his lips to the corner of yours, trailing down quickly as he blew hot breath all over your exposed neck. Planting kisses all over your throat, he lets your hands find home in his disheveled hair. Guiding him as he left love bites at the blank canvas of your collarbone, warm tongue soothing the teeth marks.

"We could've been doing this hours ago if you weren't being a bitch," Altan whispers on your skin, his own body warmth soothing the goosebumps littered all over your own body. "Would've saved us a whole lot of time and I wouldn't have had to save your pretty little ass."

He pulls away from you, grabbing something from his side. You realize it was his coat from before. Altan first lets it cover your entire body, giving you back that little bit of coverage you had before. Then, he dives underneath that very coat, letting you play this little guessing game of where was Altan?  Hints in the form of teasing hands rubbing at your supple flesh and pinches from his fingers.  

You were staring up the ceiling, mouth agape. Too impatient now to play his games, yet too prideful to say anything more.

When you feel his body nestle itself in between your legs, pushing them apart, you get an immediate idea of where he was. Hence, the impatience consumes you whole. "Trengsin, I swear to the gods if you don't--Hey!" You cut yourself off with a jerk, words shaking at the end, feeling a very hot sensation in between your legs.

"Don't rush me," is all he says before you hear the rustle of clothing again.

Two strong hands wrap themselves on your thighs, just as you began to feel tufts of hair tickling your pelvis. You bite your lip, bracing yourself. Feeling the hotness of his breaths right where you've been wanting it to be since the start. Your eyes were blinking nonstop in anticipation.

And then all at once, numerous points of your body warm up.

One, specifically, was your cunt. Swallowed fully in the warmth of his mouth. An even hotter tongue slithers out, licking your walls languidly, paying no mind to the strong thrashing of your body. His arms tighten around your legs, letting tolerable heat pass through them as well.

"Altan!" You moan out. Your body bows from the ground, hands moving from the blanket to under his coat, grabbing at his hair once more.

He hums in response. Teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue before he moves back up. You feel him smirk into your cunt as he playfully flicks at your clit, careful to tiptoe around the bundle of nerves until your whining and keening, practically grinding your cunt into his mouth.

Altan mumbles something you couldn't quite understand. You try to ask him what it was but your mind was practically mush; the coldness and the hotness playing on your body from all fronts was driving you insane.

You feel calloused fingers tap your pelvis, disappointment washing over you as you feel him pull away from your cunt, barely even paying your clit the full attention it ached for.

Cold air is then blown onto the surface of your cunt, the coldness making you yelp loudly, legs thrashing away from him.

"It's cold!" You yell at him. Weak hand: hitting his shoulders.

Like a little shit, Altan chuckles at you. He blows another breath onto your cunt, this time, it's that warm breath that had your lips falling apart in a broken moan.

He lays his tongue flat, running a whole strip through your clit, putting extra warmth on the muscle as he feels your legs tremble again. Your limbs hook at the back of his neck, trapping him in between your legs. He lets go of one of your thighs, moving his hand up your stomach and to your breast. Fondling the soft muscle as he warms that part up with his palm, pinching and twisting your nipple with his finger.

"Oh—oh!" Your moans spill out continuously, feeling his fingers enter your hole, running through your walls and stretching you out. His tongue darts out, finally giving your clit the loving it'd been waiting for, swirling and sucking it with everything he had.

You clutch the hair at the back of his head, feeling your climax near. You didn't care about anything else; the lewd noises Altan continuously pulled out of you was enough to consume every logical thought you had.

Altan could watch you from underneath his coat. The way your eyebrows smoothed upwards, your eyes closed shut, teeth desperately biting at your lip.

He knew you're close. Very close, in fact. And so his pace slowed, yet the warm sensation on his fingers increased enough to keep you still keening. 

Unfortunately, you both hear that familiar voice. 

"Trengsin! You two here?" 

hearts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! if you liked what you read, you could consider buying me a coffee :D

[loveridden1999]

[yeiowrites]

Hi, it's me again! Thank you so much for answering my question, I'm so happy to know that you write for female characters too because oh my god it's almost impossible to find any!

If you don't mind, I have some ideas (mostly lesbian angst-related, but anyway) Something about Rin during the war when she was in Khurdalain, realizing she liked the reader and worrying about the possibility of feeling something similar amidst the chaos of war, It could be a angst with comfort, since I've already cried enough with the first book and I think I need a break.

If you accept the idea, I'll be happy, Always prioritize your studies and your health!

Thank you! see ya <3

hiii anon!!! so sorry for getting to this so late T____T here it is!!!

[yeiowrites]

softly

based on this req! :D supposed to have posted this during pride month but just procrastinated the whole time lmao

pairing: fang runin x fem!reader

Fang Runin had never felt more relieved now more than ever.

Truth be told she despised seeing Nezha's face during those three years she spent at Sinegard, now she can't find the heart to hold that same resentment as he march into the Khurdalain blockade with one arm holding you up.

She yells your name, loud and trembling, pulling you into her arms right before she shifts and mirrors Nezha's hold. Providing your limping body with more support.

"What happened to you?" She asks, chestnut eyes running over your features.

Rin notes the cut on your eyebrow, the bruise on the corner of your jaw, the healed scar spanning from your cheek down to the side of your neck; you had none of those back in Sinegard. She knows that well because she spent a great deal learning your face as she did the lessons.

But that's normal, she once thought to herself, She was the only one nice to me aside from Kitay. Of course I'd be close to her.

"Not much," a hand squeezes your arm, Rin's eyes rounding with worry, "We were en route to Khurdalain when Mugenese soldiers ambushed my division. They killed majority of the soldiers, starting with the division commanders. Thankfully scouts from the Seventh Division had called for help."

"How come you lived?" Rin shakes her head, "Sorry, ignore that. I'm happy you're alive," she lunges forward again, pulling you into another hug. Your features twist, hand tapping her shoulder so she could pull away. The bones by your rib aching with strain. She seems to notice that because then she's ushering you away, completely disregarding an awaiting Nezha.

That you notice; questioning your fellow soldier as she lead you through the labyrinths of Khurdalain like a full-blown native, worried you might be stressing yourself. Adamant on bringing you to their division's medic.

At your question regarding her lack of surprise at Nezha's survival, especially after getting speared on the back by a Mugenese general, she responds: "What more do I need to say? I was concerned about him, but I'm more concerned about you. I'm sure he had the best doctors after the reinforcements got to him," her fingers dig into the skin around her nail, biting back a sigh, "but yeah, I guess I should've spoken to him. It feels really nice seeing familiar faces for once."

"Well, you'll have enough time to speak to him. We will be staying here after all," you add.

Rin looks away from you, huffing under her breath, "He's not gonna die if I don't talk to him. Stop talking about him."

You roll your eyes. "Are you still angry at him?"

"I don't know why I shouldn't be," she retorts through gritted teeth. Before you could respond, she beats you to it, "Anyway, why are we talking about Yin Nezha of all people? We haven't seen each other since the fight at Sinegard. You don't even know I got locked up after it."

The both of you walk through a specially deep puddle. Your boots diving into the dirty water as you yelp loudly, Rin also doubling over as she tries to keep you up. Rin had never despised the narrow and dark streets of Khurdalain more than she definitely did now. How hard could it possibly be to get you to Enki without any more injuries?

As she helps you pull yourself up, her eyebrows knit together with the wounded look on your face. "I know you were locked up. I know it was because you lit yourself on fire. I also know you were assigned to the thirteenth division," your voice sharpens, "Why would you assume I didn't ask about you to my comrades? I was so worried about you. You can't even imagine how much I wanted to send you letters to ask you about what happened."

Rin falls silent then. The twist in her stomach tightening into emotions she can't put into words yet. She pulls you up wordlessly, grunts leaving her dried lips as you shift your body to rest on the nearby wall reinforced with sacks of sand. Her eyes run over the hand you breathlessly press over your side.

"You would've sent letters," she says, not a question yet not a full on statement either.

"What—Kitay's your only friend, is that it?"

"I didn't say that!" Rin's voice raises, an irritated tone seeping through her words. "You kept asking me about Nezha. That same guy who made our life in Sinegard hell. Why the fuck are you worried about him more than me?"

You scoff, widening your eyes at her, "When did I say that?"

"You were just saying it a second ago!"

"I did not!" You shoot back, matching her voice, fully oblivious to the bystanders' eyes watching you yell at each other in the middle of a dirty old street. "It's basic respect. We were your classmates, Rin."

"Yeah, classmates. He's my classmate, a shitty one, and you're my friend. Obviously I'd want to ask more about you than that piece of shit," her words were rough, but she couldn't offer anything else.

You were injured. Seriously injured. The last thing Rin needed now was both of you arguing at some street with bystanders watching you two like it was the best kind of entertainment they've had in a while.

She needed to get you to Enki now. You needed to rest and calm down.

"Look, fine, sorry, I'll talk to him later. We need to get you to Enki first," Rin's voice softens just slightly, offering her hand at you.

You sigh, feeling bad at how you snapped at her when she was just being concerned. You place your hand into hers, "Fine. I'm sorry too." The two of you look away, both of your cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

Even in the middle of the war, you two were still as sappy as when you were first-years.

"Who's this Enki anyway? And how's your new division too? Is it fun?"

Rin's shoulders move at her laugh, "Enki's my division's medic. He's really good at injuries. And, yeah, my division's fun enough," her eyes fall to the ground, remembering the tired look in Altan's eyes right before the seventh division had arrived.

A tiredness born off of her inability to actually be of use. A tiredness because she still can't call the fire even when she calls for the Phoenix, praying and seeking the god out.

She fears you'd ask her about it, details about how she managed to wreak such havoc in Sinegard, but it seems you couldn't care less much about it as you ask, "Good because I've had my fair share of division hopping and let me tell you, it isn't fun."

"Division hopping?" Rin huffs.

"Oh yes, that's what happens when you always get assigned to the worst divisions. You have no idea how trashy my comrades were. They make Nezha and his friends look like saints!"

Again with Nezha's name. Rin has to actually stop herself from rolling her eyes then, not really getting why you kept on mentioning that name.

"Well, did you kick their ass?" Rin inquires, directing you to a left corner.

"Ha! Of course I did. Tobi's tiger claws are actually way more useful than you'd think," you answer, the smile gracing your lips was enough to have Rin's heart beating faster. Too starstruck with the sight that she all but brings you both to a dead end.

"Are you sure you even know where we're going?"

Rin retorts, "Shut it, tourist."

By the time you two arrived at Enki's small clinic, no larger than a commoner's closet, Rin had hurriedly took you to lay down on the small cot inside. Surrounded by his so-called medicine, this tall, bearded man glares at you from head to toe. Clearly, Enki didn't even want to take you in.

Rin spoke with him outside for a few seconds, coming back with a casual look on her face. "I'll be outside. Enki's giving me an errand."

You shift your look from her to the older man now strapping gloves on his hands.

"Okay...?"

***

The next few days, your injuries feel a lot better.

You still limp around. Occasionally having to sit down and catch you breath whenever the tension gets too much. But, fortunately, you could hold yourself in a fight now, just like before.

Rin's the one to thank for that. She comes by your barracks, somewhere close to the seventh division, taking you to the open space where she and the Cike usually train. It was somewhere close to the strait, a bit far from the streets, with fine sand and a perfectly flat surface for the usual takedown.

Sometimes you tell her there's no need to pick you up at the other side of Khurdalain, that you could just meet her at the beach to save time. She denies it every time.

Every walk to the beach after fetching you at your barracks, you two find yourselves reminiscing about those moments back in Sinegard. Back when life was a little more simple; no wars, just the grueling hours of studying for an equally grueling exam.

You find Rin to have grown a bit sentimental now. You didn't expect her to mature so fast in so little time. Every time you call it out, though, she's going back to her usual clipped responses.

You believe it's because of the war. It has its own ways of maturing a person against their will. Hell, it matured you, that's for sure.

At night, some time after dinner at the mess hall, Rin brings you out. Bringing you with her on her patrols, arguing it's to get your leg and body used to moving quickly. Usually throwing out some over-the-top scenario such as "The Mugenese might throw a bomb and suddenly raid the camp. How're you gonna fight then?"

You honestly think it's simply just to spend time with you.

Rin, for how outspoken she is, has reservations of her own. Like now, where she refuses to acknowledge that her commander—Altan—had told her, many times now, to stop seeing you.

You've overheard it on one of your follow-up trips to Enki's clinic. It was him and some other female voice that definitely wasn't Rin's.

"The girl is no good," she had said, you didn't know whether the girl meant you or Rin. "Altan is spiraling. The speerly girl cannot call the fire. It's all going to shit."

Enki didn't seem to have anything else to offer that person aside from one of his heavy sighs. Dismissing her just as quick as he did Rin the first time.

Even when you tell Rin of what you've heard, here she was now, at the rough sands of the beach, practicing the forms Altan had drilled so strictly into her brain. Ignoring the way you tell her you should go, that you should leave her to her training and squad.

"No. Stay there," Rin says when you stand up from a stone, her voice breathy and on the verge of trembling. "I... I can concentrate. Just, well, just stay there, okay?"

"Rin, your commander's ordering you to stop seeing me—"

She cuts you off roughly. "He's not in his best state, okay? He doesn't know what he's ordering. Everyone in my squad knows that. Best to just ignore it."

Your head jerks, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

How can Rin disregard her commander like that?

How can she say such words when you know, you know how much Altan means to her.

How much she looked up to that man back in Sinegard. Snapping at Nezha when he does so much as insult Altan's dignity as the last speerly.

Now she's disregarding him for you?

"Rin, are you hearing yourself?"

Her face hardens, "I know—"

"That is your commander. Your hero. You practically look up to that man like a god and now you're doubting him."

"I'm not doubting him!" Rin's voice rises.

You continue, "If you're worried about my health then don't, please. I can take care of myself. It's hard for me to watch you get lectured again and again by your own division just because of me."

"Well, you're worrying about nothing," Rin states, walking over to you with her arms crossed over her chest, nostrils flaring, "Whatever it is you've been hearing them say, ignore it, okay? It's normal for military divisions to have their conflict. Mine's no different."

"I can't ignore it because it's about me, Rin!" You yell, frustration getting the best of you. "Altan's scolding you because of me. They're doubting your loyalties because you keep getting mixed with me and Nezha—"

A loud sound of irritation leaves Rin, dropping the sword she'd been practicing with, "Again with Nezha! Can you stop mentioning him?"

Now you're even more confused. What is it about Nezha that has Rin so angry? You know about their history in Sinegard, you've witnessed it, but with everything they've gone through at the Battle of Sinegard, you thought they've gotten over it.

"Are you two together? Is that it?" Rin questions sharply. The bewildered look in her eyes telling you that the question surprised even herself.

"You can't be serious," you scoff, unable to believe the question.

"Oh yeah? Well sorry, you two look way too close and personal for two soldiers in the middle of a war!" Rin yells again, the fury evident in her voice.

"We haven't even gotten to speak to each other since I've arrived!" You shout back, stabbing a finger on her shoulder, "Is it why you keep on bringing me around with you like a lost dog, huh, Rin? So I wouldn't go to Nezha and talk to him? Is this some sort of stupid game between you and Nezha?"

"Great Tortoise. We're soldiers now, Rin! You and Nezha are soldiers! Stop acting like children!"

The sky thunders and cries of its tears fall onto both of your heads. The rain drops harshly, both of your hairs drenched and weighed down. Still, neither of you dared to back down. You two were always the stubborn ones out of your trio with Kitay.

Rin's features never faltered. She had never grown into her features, yet she still looked as young as you had first saw her. That small, frail province girl from Tikany that was way too hardheaded and short-fused. Always getting into fights with the other students. 

But, even with her temper, she was always the caring one. Maybe it manifested in her overprotectiveness. She'd always get into quarrels with Kitay from it, the latter mentioning how overbearing and unpredictable Rin is because of it.      

You never found it bad, though. In fact, you loved it whenever Rin made you feel protected. 

Loved it?

Out of both anger and frustration, in yourself and in her, you shake your head. Wiping off the water dripping down your temples with a harsh swipe. You turn around, huffing under your breath as you walk away from her. Heading to nowhere in particular. You just needed to get away from Rin now, as soon as possible. 

That night, Rin didn't see you at the mess hall. 

She went into one of Qara's watchtowers right at the time when you should've been patrolling the eastern gates. Unfortunately, you weren't patrolling either. 

She tried sneaking around the Seventh Division, Nezha's barracks, not really wanting to put any life in her own pessimistic delusions but she couldn't just not check if you're with him. Rin doesn't even know what she truly feels about this... this. 

The only thing she knows is she doesn't want you with him. 

When she doesn't find you anywhere near that camp, she heads back to her barracks. Qara eyeing her as she comes back and drops down to her futon, muttering that Baji's on patrol now. Altan's lieutenant seemingly leaves as Rin hears a loud thump of the door. 

Despite having the small space all to herself, Rin still feels as if she's back in the big, expansive grounds of Sinegard Academy. Reminiscing all of those days where you, her, and Kitay would just grumble around and complain all day long about the assignments, badmouth the masters, hang around Jiang's garden; life had been much, much simpler then. 

She tried to get an inkling of shut eye only to get none. The calm call of her name from Unegen making her leave the small women's barracks. 

It was just a simple meeting with the rest of the Cike. Possible plan changes on intercepting Mugenese supply lines, updates on Qara's brother, patrol hours, all of the boring stuff. Altan was still as disheveled as Rin last saw him. His long hair now flying in all directions, bags weighing down his eyes. 

Rin had made sure to slip out of the tent as fast as she could, not wanting to give Altan the opportunity to call her out or ask about the fire. She'd gladly prove her dedication in trying to call the fire but not now. She couldn't now. 

Taking the long way to the western gates, Rin savors the salty sea air as she walks in silence. The chilly air making her remember the moments you'd hug yourself tightly, always running colder than she did, hence taking her extra blanket. Even at Sinegard, you were like that. 

A sudden boom from behind her makes her halt. Her ears perk up, eyes narrowing towards the direction of the sound only to see some flares light up from the other side of the forest, at the opposite side of the gate. She sighs out of relief, letting the air enter through her nostrils before exhaling them through her mouth. 

She turns back around, ready to rush to her post, only to see you standing there. 

In front of her. 

With a coat over your shoulders. One that looked way too big for you. 

"It's Kitay's," you spoke up first, eyebrows darted. 

Rin didn't know why, but she felt a sense of relief at that information. She didn't make it too obvious though. 

"I'm taking it as you're training again?" Rin tried to open up a topic. Awkwardly fiddling with her hands behind her back, trying not to look at you but her eyes keep on darting back to that disapproving look on your face. "I'm supposed to be patrolling now." 

You sigh, a heavy one that was audible even at Rin's distance. "They’re shipping me off to Golyn Niis." 

Surprise strikes Rin across the face with a bold wide-eyed look. You already expected that loud, sharp-tongued yell from her asking you a million questions on why you, of all people, would be shipped off to Golyn Niis. In such a sudden time as well. However, the surprise transfers from her to you as the look on her face softens. 

A kind of softness that made you feel offended. 

This was not her character. This isn't her. 

Rin rages. She yells. She speaks first before thinking.

"Sucks for me then," Rin says, voice shaky yet terribly light. "I'm stuck here with Nezha."

For the first time, a genuine mix of a chuckle and a scoff leaves your lips. The sound pulling a small smile on Rin's lips, one you wouldn't have seen if not for the flicker of light from the light on her hand. 

"Don't look too happy about me leaving, Rin," you say jokingly, crossing your arms and leaning your weight on one hip as well. 

She rolls her eyes at you, playing along, "Oh please, I'm ecstatic. Two of my best friends together while I'm left in this shithole? Perfect." 

"Yeah, best friends," you echo under your breath. 

That very night, you spent your remaining hours in Khurdalain accompanying Rin on her patrol. By accompanying, you mean sitting on the floor with her, knees to your chests, laughing and giggling like stupid high school students.

There were barely any other soldiers patrolling so the two of you were practically there in peace.

No loudness, no wandering eyes, no affiliation. Simply you and her, acting like two immature teenagers—as what you two really are.

“That’s me,” you had rose to your feet, letting out the deepest sigh Rin has ever heard from you. “I didn’t notice time going that fast.”

“No one said you had to go,” Rin responds, rising to her feet as well.

You scoff, “Are you high? How can I just turn down Master Irjah’s summon? Not like I’m being useful in this place anyway.”

She replies with a hum, head nodding back and forth awkwardly. You couldn’t bring yourself to head down the tower. Not even when the other officer tasked to replace Rin’s patrol arrives.

“Did Master Irjah’s explain why he wanted you? In the letter, I mean,” Rin follows up.

Before you manage to answer, the other officer clears his throat. That’s the only time you actually realize how big that officer is—with his massive arms crossed over his chest, muscles tight against the dark-colored uniform identical with Rin’s.

You notice Rin shoot him a glare of her shoulder. The comically bulky man huffing roughly as he turns away, moving the equally comically large rake on his back to his front.

Awkwardly, you respond, “It was actually Kitay that had signed the letter. According to him it was something about translating. I figure they’re planning to have peace talks or ceasefires with the Mugenese there.”

“That’s—That’s dangerous,” Rin’s hand shoots out to hold your wrist. The fiery protectiveness you thought had been buried now filled her eyes.

Something warm blossoms in your chest.

She still cares for me.

Unfortunately, that very same warmth is trampled on by the coldness of reality—you are a soldier; Rin is one too.

“Everything’s dangerous,” you look away from her, wetting your lips. You clear your throat, bringing your free fist up to your mouth politely, “But hey—I can handle myself, Rin. Better than you definitely think.”

Rin rolls her eyes at you, “Oh, yeah, definitely,” her playfully sarcastic words definitely didn’t mirror the worry in her features. Both of your eyes fall to where her fingers wrapped around your wrist, a heavy bubble of silence floating by before it pops—

“You really should’ve just stayed here,” Rin admits. The pain evident in her voice, fingers letting go of you.

“And what, be your emotional support friend? Give you encouraging words every time your commander gives you a hard time?”

Her shoulders slump, “At least I’d know you’re safe.”

A meaningful stillness envelopes you both. Something that felt different from the previous silences that clung unto you both like foul smell. This time felt truly vulnerable; as if Rin was unraveling herself willingly for you, not just her keeping you solely for herself.

Uncertainty lacing your movements, you take careful steps towards her. The air catching in your throat as you see her up close for the first time. All of those scratches, marks, and bruises.

Rin’s beautiful. You’ve always found her as such.

Gingerly, you press your lips to the side of her face, right at the place where a small scratch had healed but marked her skin.

“It will be okay, Rin,” you whisper, pulling away with a hand squeezing her shoulder.

Her eyes round at you.

Dry lips falling apart as she watches you turn your back to her, figure slowly disappearing as you had, once again, slipped away from her hands.

hearts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! if you liked what you read, you could consider buying me a coffee :D

[yeiowrites]

finally got out of my writing slump 🙏🏻🙏🏻 expect a few posts here and there HEHE ALSO will be opening writing commissions sooo stay tuned 🤭🤭🤭🤭

[6x-x9]

ಇ.word count: 4.6k ಇ.art by: @!yunonoaii on X

ಇ.content & warnings: ꒰3somes ⋮⋮ college au ⋮⋮ reader is a cheerleader ⋮⋮ weed / shot-gunning ⋮⋮ fingering ⋮⋮ oral ( reader & shoko rec.) ⋮⋮ 69ing w Shoko ⋮⋮ pet names: princess, baby etc ⋮⋮ spit play ⋮⋮ breast & nipple worship꒱

You’re hunched over your desk in those tiny pastel shorts and the cropped university hoodie that barely covers anything anymore, highlighter between your teeth, pretending the bio notes in front of you make sense. The room smells like vanilla wax melt and your coconut leave-in. Peaceful, innocent. Then three soft knocks — too rhythmic, too knowing.

You open the door and fuck.

Shoko’s leaning in the frame first, black fishnets ripped at the thigh, oversized olive-green bomber, silver snake choker glinting under the hallway light. Her tongue flicks over the corner of her mouth the second she sees your wide-eyed bambi stare.

“Hi, princess.”

Before your brain can reboot Mikasa is already stepping in behind her, tall and silent, black lace bralette peeking from under an open black trench, dark lipstick already smudged like she’s been biting her own lip thinking about this all day. She reaches past you, clicks the lock and the sound is louder than it should be.

Shoko doesn’t ask, she just closes the gap, palms sliding up your cheeks, thumbs brushing the corners of your mouth like she’s sizing you up for something filthy. Then she kisses you slow, wet, lazy tongue and curling against yours like she’s tasting the cherry gloss you put on three hours ago just because you felt pretty.

You make a tiny startled noise into her mouth.

She pulls back just enough to murmur, “God you taste sweet already,” voice all smoke and promethazine rasp. Then she’s stepping around you, fishing the half-finished blunt from her pocket, flicking her lighter like it’s nothing.

Mikasa doesn’t give you time to breathe.

She steps right into your space, one hand catching your jaw, not roughly, just firmly  tilting your face up so she can look at you properly. Her eyes are so dark they feel like you're sinking into them just by looking, then she kisses you too. Deeper…hungrier, less teasing, more claiming. Her tongue slides against yours like she’s mapping every inch Shoko's didn’t get to yet, you sway…legs already stupid.

Shoko flops onto your bed first, knees spread, combat boots still on, rude of her mind you, like she owns the place, then she takes the first long pull, cherry-wood, the tip glows orange, then she exhales a thick ribbon of smoke towards the ceiling.

“C’mere, baby.” She says with a lazy, dazed smile curling her lips.

Mikasa’s hands are already on your waist, guiding, not asking and she walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the mattress, you drop down between them automatically, pliant, dizzy from the double-kiss ambush, then the weed hits your nose before you even register Shoko holding the blunt to her lips, she takes another pull.

“Open,” she says, soft but mean.

You do.

She shotguns you first, her plump llips brushing yours, pushing the smoke straight into your mouth while Mikasa’s fingers slip under your hoodie, cool rings grazing the underside of your tits, you whimper into the kiss and shoko laughs low against your mouth, pulls back just to watch your lashes flutter.

“Good girl.” 

Mikasa takes the blunt next, pulls deep, then leans in and seals her mouth over yours again — shotgunning you harder, smoke curling between your tongues while her thumb circles your nipple through the thin bralette you’re wearing underneath and you arch without meaning to.

Shoko’s mouth finds your neck at the same time, open-mouthed, slow drags of her tongue, teeth grazing just enough to sting. “You’re already shaking, princess,” she whispers right under your ear. “We haven’t even touched your pussy yet, you want us that bad huh?”

Mikasa hums agreement, voice velvet-gravel, her hand slides lower, palm flat against your stomach, fingers dipping just under the waistband of your shorts…not inside, not yet. Just there, teasing the elastic.

Shoko pulls back to look at you, eyes half-lidded, lips shiny from your gloss and her own spit.

“You gonna let us taste your pretty cunt, baby?” she asks, like it’s a real question. Like you could say no.

Mikasa’s fingers flex against your skin, impatiently waiting.

Your head tips back against Shoko’s shoulder. The weed is swimming through you now, warm and syrupy, turning every brush of their hands into sparks.

You nod, suddenly a little shy but you're desperate.

Shoko grins against your throat.

“That’s our good little cheer slut.”

Mikasa’s hands are already on your hips the second you’re boneless between them, pulling you forward with that quiet, inevitable strength. She doesn’t ask, she just maneuvers you until you’re straddling her lap, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of her thighs. Your hoodie’s rucked up under your arms now, tiny cheer shorts riding high, and she looks up at you like you’re dessert she’s been starving for.

Her palms slide up under the fabric, cupping your tits fully this time, no more teasing over the bralette and drags her thumbs across your nipples once slow and deliberately, watching your mouth fall open on a shaky breath.

“Been thinking about these all week,” she murmurs, voice low and rough like she’s confessing a sin. Then she yanks the hoodie and bralette up and over your head in one smooth motion, tossing them somewhere behind her without looking.

Your bare chest is right there, flushed and heaving, Mikasa doesn’t waste time, she leans in, her lips closing around one nipple, hot and wet and sucking hard enough to make your back bow. Her tongue flicks, circles, then she pulls off with a soft pop just to switch to the other one, teeth grazing the sensitive peak while her hand kneads the first, rolling it between cool fingers.

You’re already whimpering, hips twitching forward on instinct, grinding down against the seam of her black jeans like you can’t help it.

That’s when Shoko moves.

She’s been watching, a lazy smile curling her lips, blunt forgotten on your nightstand still smoldering and now she’s sliding up behind you on her knees, chest pressing to your back, chin hooked over your shoulder so she can watch Mikasa’s mouth work.

“Fuck, look at you,” Shoko breathes against your ear, one hand snaking around to palm your stomach while the other hooks into the waistband of your shorts. “Already dripping through these little things, huh?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer. Just tugs on it hard, the pastel fabric drags down your thighs, catching briefly on your knees before she yanks them the rest of the way off and flings them toward the floor. Cool air hits your soaked cunt and you whine, loud and needy.

Shoko laughs softly, mean and sweet at the same time, her fingers are there before you can even process it, two sliding through your folds, slow, gathering your sappy slick, then pushing in knuckle-deep, into your tight cunt without warning.

You gasp, hips jerking forward into Mikasa’s mouth.

“So fucking wet, princess,” Shoko drawls, curling her fingers just right, stroking that spot that makes your thighs shake. “This little pussy’s been waiting for us, hasn’t it?”

She doesn’t give you time to answer. Pulls her fingers out slowly, then spreads you open with both hands, thumbs holding your pussylips apart so she can see everything.

Mikasa’s still latched onto your tit, sucking bruises into the soft skin, but her eyes flick down too, dark and hungry.

Shoko leans in.

Her tongue drags flat from your clit all the way up to your soft hole in one long, filthy stripe. Then she seals her mouth over you, sucking sloppy, loud, with no shame. Tongue flicking fast against your clit while her fingers slide back inside, pumping in time with the way she’s eating you.

You’re trapped — Mikasa’s mouth on your tits, relentlessly switching between sucking and biting, leaving your nipples swollen and shiny; Shoko behind you, face buried in your cunt from the back, moaning into you like she’s the one getting off.

Your hands scrabble, one tangling in Mikasa’s dark hair to hold her against your chest, the other reaching back to grip Shoko’s wrist like you need something to anchor you while they ruin you.

Shoko pulls off just long enough to murmur against your dripping folds, breath hot,

“Gonna make you come all over my tongue, baby. Then we’re gonna switch.”

Mikasa hums around your nipple in agreement, the vibration shooting straight to your core.

Your head falls back against Shoko’s shoulder, mouth open on silent cries, thighs trembling, pussy clenching around nothing and everything at once.

They’ve got you right where they want you — split open, dripping and all theirs.

You’re still straddling Mikasa’s lap, thighs spread wide, trembling so hard the whole bed feels like it’s vibrating under you. Mikasa’s got one arm banded around your lower back now, holding you flush against her so you can’t squirm away even if you wanted to. Her mouth is latched back onto your tit, sucking slow, deep pulls now, tongue laving lazy circles around the swollen nipple like she’s trying to milk every tiny whimper out of you. The other hand is kneading the neglected one, thumb flicking the peak in cruel little rhythms that make your hips buck forward uselessly.

Shoko’s still behind you, on her knees, chest pressed to your back like she’s molding herself to every shudder that racks your body. She’s been quiet for a second, just breathing hot against your spine, letting you feel the drag of her tongue tracing your vertebrae then she pulls back just enough to spit. Right onto your ass. Thick, warm, obscene. It slides down the cleft, dripping over your already soaked hole.

You jolt. A broken little “ah—” slips out.

Shoko chuckles, low and dark. “Yeah? You like that, princess?”

Before you can even nod she rears back and slaps, her open palm cracking sharp against one cheek, then the other in quick succession. The sound echoes in the small room, obscene and wet because you’re dripping everywhere now. Your ass jiggles, skin blooming pink under her hand, and she does it again — harder — watching the way the flesh ripples.

“Fuck, look at this pretty little cunt,” she murmurs, almost to herself. Two fingers spread you open again, thumbs pulling your lips apart so wide you feel the cool air kiss your clit. Then she slaps there too — lighter, but right on the swollen nub. You cry out, hips snapping forward into Mikasa’s mouth.

Shoko doesn’t stop. She spits again — straight onto your entrance this time, then pushes three fingers in at once. No warning. Just the slick stretch, your tight walls fluttering around the sudden fullness. You’re so wet it slides in easy, but you’re still so fucking tight, clenching like your body’s trying to push her out and pull her deeper at the same time.

“Goddamn, baby,” Shoko groans, voice wrecked. She starts pumping, slow at first, letting you feel every ridge of her knuckles dragging against your walls — then faster, curling, scissoring, stretching you open like she’s prepping you for something bigger later. “This pussy’s greedy as hell. Sucking me right back in.”

Mikasa hums around your nipple in agreement, the vibration shooting straight down to where Shoko’s wrecking you. She switches tits again, sucking the other one into her mouth now, teeth grazing just enough to sting while her free hand slides down your stomach.

Her fingers find your clit at the exact same second Shoko’s tongue does.

Shoko’s been eating you sloppy this whole time — chin shiny, lips swollen — but now she focuses. Tongue flicking fast over your clit in messy little circles while her fingers keep fucking into you, curling hard against that spot that makes your vision white out.

And Mikasa, fuck — her fingers replace Shoko’s mouth for a second. Two of them pressing down on your clit, rubbing firm, slow circles while Shoko’s tongue laps at the edges, catching the slick that’s dripping down your thighs.

It’s too much.

You’re caught between them — Mikasa nursing on your tits like she’ll never get enough, sucking bruises into the soft undersides now, leaving you marked and sensitive; Shoko behind you, three fingers buried deep, stretching you wide, thumb occasionally brushing your rim just to make you clench harder; both of them on your clit at once — Shoko’s tongue sloppy and relentless, Mikasa’s fingers precise and mean.

Your whole body locks up. Thighs shaking, back arching so hard your head thumps back against Shoko’s shoulder. You’re babbling, nonsense, pleas, their names — voice cracking on every syllable.

Shoko pulls her mouth off just long enough to growl against your cunt, “Come on, princess. Give it to us. Soak my fucking face.”

Mikasa bites down on your nipple sharp, perfectly it stings, and rubs your clit faster.

You break.

The orgasm hits like a slap, it's hard and sudden, blinding your control. You scream, hips grinding down onto Shoko’s tongue and fingers while Mikasa keeps sucking, keeps rubbing, drawing it out until you’re twitching, overstimulated till tears prick your lashes.

They don’t stop.

Shoko keeps fingering you through it, slower now, but deep, milking every aftershock while her tongue laps gently at your oversensitive clit.

Mikasa switches to soft, open-mouthed kisses across your chest, murmuring “good girl, such a good fucking girl” against your skin.

You’re a mess, sweaty and trembling, pussy clenching around nothing now that Shoko’s finally pulled her fingers out, only to replace them with her tongue again, slow and soothing but still hungry.

Shoko pulls back just enough to press a filthy, open-mouthed kiss to the small of your back.

“Think you can take another one, baby?” she asks, voice all smoke and promise. “’Cause we’re nowhere near done with this pretty pussy.”

Mikasa’s hand slides up to cup your jaw, tilting your face so she can kiss you sweet, tasting like your own skin.

“Say yes,” she whispers against your lips.

Your head’s spinning. Body still buzzing.

But your mouth moves on its own.

“…yes.”

Shoko’s finally peeled herself off your back, skin flushed and glistening with sweat and your slick. She kicks off her ripped black jeans in one impatient shove, fishnets still clinging to her thighs like torn webs, then shimmies out of her soaked black thong, tossing it somewhere near your discarded shorts. She crawls backward up the bed until her shoulders hit the headboard, legs spreading wide, shameless. Her cunt’s already shiny, swollen lips parted just enough to show how wet she got from wrecking you.

She pats her own thigh once, lazy smirk curling.

“Bring that pretty cunt over here, princess.”

Her voice is wrecked, husky and demanding, dripping with that mean-girl sweetness that makes your stomach flip. You’re still shaking from the last orgasm, thighs slick down to your knees, but your body moves before your brain catches up. Crawling forward on all fours, ass in the air, tits swaying with every inch closer.

Mikasa’s right there with you silent and waiting, already shifting so she’s kneeling beside Shoko’s hip, dark hair falling over one shoulder like ink. She doesn’t say anything. Just watches you straddle Shoko’s face backward, knees bracketing Shoko’s head, your dripping pussy hovering right over her waiting mouth.

Shoko doesn’t wait for you to lower yourself. Her hands clamp onto your hips as her nails dig in and she yanks you down hard, burying her face in your cunt like she’s starving. Tongue plunging straight in, fucking you with it immediately, sloppy and relentless. She moans loud into you, the vibration making your arms buckle.

You cry out, forehead dropping to Shoko’s stomach, ass arched high. Perfect position.

Mikasa moves in front, kneeling between Shoko’s spread thighs, hands sliding up those fishnet-covered legs to push them wider. She doesn’t tease. Just leans down and drags her tongue flat from Shoko’s entrance to her clit in one long, slow stripe. Shoko’s hips jerk up off the bed.

“Fuck…yeah mhm- just like that,” Shoko gasps against your pussy, words muffled because her mouth never leaves you. She’s eating you like it’s oxygen, sucking your clit, tongue-fucking in deep, then pulling back just to spit on your hole and watch it drip before diving back in.

You can’t just watch. You drop lower, face hovering over Shoko’s cunt now, nose brushing Mikasa’s cheek as you both work her. You spit first, a thick, messy glob right onto Shoko’s clit, watching it glisten even more. Then you lean in and kiss Mikasa around it, open-mouthed, tongues sliding together over Shoko’s swollen nub. Sloppy and wet, sharing the taste of her while your lips brush and suck at the same sensitive spot.

Shoko’s thighs tremble around Mikasa’s head. Her hands on your ass squeeze harder, spreading you wider so she can get deeper, tongue curling inside you, nose grinding against your clit with every thrust of her face. She’s fucking masochistic about it, grinding her own hips up into your mouth and Mikasa’s at the same time, chasing the overstimulation like she needs to be ruined too.

You pull back just enough to spit again, messy strings connecting your lips to Shoko’s cunt, then dive back in, sucking her clit hard while Mikasa’s tongue pushes inside her, fucking her slow and deep. Your tongues meet again over Shoko’s folds, kissing filthy around her, swapping spit and slick, moaning into each other’s mouths while Shoko writhes underneath you both.

Shoko’s losing it. Her hips buck wild, grinding up into your face, into Mikasa’s. She’s whimpering now the sounds high and broken, muffled by your pussy, still eating you like her life depends on it. One hand leaves your ass to tangle in Mikasa’s hair, shoving her face deeper.

“Don’t — don’t stop…fuck, make me come on your tongues —”

You obey and suck harder, letting Mikasa take the lead on fucking Shoko’s hole with her tongue while you focus on the clit, flicking fast, then flattening your tongue to lap broad and messy.

Mikasa’s free hand slides up to pinch Shoko’s nipple hard, twisting just enough to make Shoko arch off the bed with a choked scream.

That’s it.

Shoko comes hard, her whole body locking, thighs clamping around Mikasa’s head, hips grinding up into your mouth in frantic little jerks. She’s soaking, slick coating your chin, Mikasa’s lips, dripping down her own thighs. Her tongue never stops on you though; if anything it gets sloppier, more desperate, like she’s trying to drag you over the edge with her.

You’re close again, pussy clenching around nothing while Shoko tongue-fucks you through her own orgasm. Mikasa pulls back just long enough to murmur against Shoko’s still-twitching cunt,

“Our turn to make her scream next.”

Shoko laughs breathless and wrecked, then yanks your hips down harder, sealing her mouth over your clit and sucking like she wants to pull your soul out of you.

You’re not getting off this ride until they say so.

And they’re nowhere near done.

Your knees dig into the mattress on either side of Shoko’s head, thighs already quivering like they might give out any second. Shoko’s hands are locked around the backs of your thighs, spreading you wider, keeping your cunt pressed flush to her mouth, no escape, no mercy. Her tongue is still buried deep, slow lazy thrusts now that your last orgasm has left you dripping and hypersensitive, every flick making your hips jerk involuntarily.

Mikasa shifts in front of you, kneeling tall between Shoko’s spread legs so she’s face-to-face with you, dark eyes locked on yours like she’s reading every twitch, every flutter of your lashes. Her hands find your hips, palms cool and grip firm, steadying you exactly where she wants you.

She doesn’t speak at first. Just starts guiding.

Slow rolls at first, pulling your hips back so your clit drags along the flat of Shoko’s tongue, then pushing forward again so Shoko’s nose nudges your entrance and her lips seal around you. The motion is controlled, deliberate, like Mikasa’s using your body to fuck Shoko’s face for her own pleasure.

You whimper out, it's high and broken as your head tips forward until your forehead rests against Mikasa’s shoulder. Every grind sends sparks up your spine; you’re so overstimulated that even the softest pressure feels like too much, clit throbbing, walls fluttering around nothing while Shoko’s tongue keeps lapping slow and greedy.

Mikasa feels it, the way your thighs start to shake harder, the tiny sobs catching in your throat, the way your nails dig into her arms like you’re holding on for dear life.

She softens.

Her grip loosens just enough to cradle instead of command. One hand slides up your side, thumb brushing the underside of your breast in a gentle sweep, while the other stays on your hip, still guiding, but slower now, shallower rocks that let you catch your breath against Shoko’s relentless mouth.

Shoko hums low approval into your cunt, the vibration spreading through you but doesn’t push. Just keeps her tongue flat and still for a second, letting you grind at your own pace while Mikasa holds you steady.

Mikasa tilts your chin up with two fingers.

Your eyes meet hers, watery and dazed, pupils blown wide.

She leans in slow.

The kiss is nothing like before.

Soft and sweet, lips brushing yours like she’s handling something fragile. No tongue at first, just the gentle press, the warmth of her mouth, the faint taste of Shoko still lingering on both of you. She kisses the corner of your mouth, then the other, then seals her lips over yours properly, slow and languid, swallowing the tiny whimpers you can’t hold back.

Her hand cups your jaw now, thumb stroking your cheekbone while she kisses you deeper, but still gentle, still careful. Tongues touching just the tips and then sliding together in lazy, comforting strokes. You melt into it, body going pliant between them; hips still rocking shallow on Shoko’s face, but the frantic edge is gone, replaced by something warmer, sweeter.

Shoko’s tongue gives one last slow drag from your entrance to your clit soft and soothing, before she pulls back just enough to breathe against your folds.

“Pretty baby,” she murmurs, voice muffled and wrecked. “You’re doing so good for us.”

Mikasa breaks the kiss only to rest her forehead against yours, noses brushing.

“Still with us?” she whispers, lips grazing yours with every word.

You nod small…shaky, lips tingling from her sweetness.

Her lips curve into a rare smile, it's soft and just for you, she kisses you again. Once, then twice, little pecks of her lips that make your chest ache in the best way.

Shoko’s hands slide up to rub slow circles on your thighs, grounding and possessive.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Mikasa murmurs against your mouth, “we’ll keep going. Or we can just stay like this.”

Her fingers thread through your hair, cradling the back of your head.

Shoko presses a soft, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh, then another…then one last gentle lick along your slit, cleaning you up without pushing for more.

You’re caught between them; Shoko’s warm mouth still so close, Mikasa’s steady hands and sweeter kisses holding you together.

For the first time tonight, it doesn’t feel like they’re trying to break you.

It feels like they’re keeping you.

Mikasa’s still got you, her hands steady on your hips, thumbs stroking slow arcs over the sensitive skin there like she’s reminding you she’s not letting go. Your forehead rests against her collarbone, breaths coming in shaky little puffs, body humming with the aftershocks that won’t quite fade.

Under you, Shoko shifts.

She plants her palms on the mattress and pushes herself up slow and carefully, until her face is level with your hips again and presses soft, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of one hipbone, then the other. Warm lips, gentle suction, little nips that make you twitch without hurting, her tongue traces lazy patterns over the faint red marks her nails left earlier, soothing them like an apology.

“C’mere, princess,” she murmurs against your skin, voice all smoke and velvet now, no edge, just warmth.

Mikasa helps and together they guide you down gently and unhurried, until your back hits the cool sheets. You sink into them with a soft exhale, legs falling open naturally, body too spent to fight gravity anymore. Shoko settles on your left, Mikasa on your right, bracketing you like they’re afraid you’ll float away if they don’t keep you grounded.

They don’t rush.

Mikasa leans in first, her lips brushing the swell of your breast, soft and lovingly. She kisses the underside, then circles the nipple with slow, wet drags of her tongue before taking it into her mouth. Not sucking hard this time. Just nursing on you with soft, gentle pulls, tongue laving in lazy circles, like she’s savoring every tiny shiver she pulls from you.

Shoko mirrors her on the other side. Kisses the soft skin just above your nipple, then closes her lips around it slowly, tender suctions that match Mikasa’s rhythm perfectly. Their mouths work in tandem; one pulls while the other soothes with little kitten licks, then they switch their rhythm without breaking contact. Your back arches just a little on instinct, not desperation and they both hum approvals against your skin.

Their free hands slide down together.

Fingers intertwine over your mound first, Shoko’s pinky brushing Mikasa’s then they separate, slipping lower. Mikasa’s fingers find your clit, two of them pressing soft, slow circles, barely any pressure, just enough to keep the sparks flickering. Shoko’s, slide through your folds, gathering the slick that’s still leaking out of you then pushes inside, her two fingers curling gently against that spot that makes your toes curl.

No slapping…no stretching, they're tender now.

Just soft, steady rhythm, fingers moving in perfect sync, building you up slow like they’ve got all night. Mikasa’s thumb joins her fingers on your clit now, rubbing in tiny, patient circles while Shoko’s fingers stroke inside you deep and unhurried, pressing just right every time.

You’re whimpering soft, breathy sounds that melt into their mouths when they lean up to kiss you in turns. First Mikasa’s slow and sweet, her tongue sliding against yours like she’s drinking you in and Shoko's lazier, filthier, but still gentle, lips catching every little gasp.

They talk to you between kisses, quiet, murmured praises that sinks into your bones.

“So pretty when you let go like this…”

“Feel how wet you still are for us, baby…”

“Good girl… just like that… let it build slowly…”

Your hips roll up into their hands with lazy, needy little rocks and they match you, never rushing, never pushing too hard. The pleasure coils tighter, warmer, different this time, not a violent snap, but a slow, rolling wave that starts in your toes and spreads upward like honey.

When it finally crests, it’s soft. Deep. Your whole body shudders with long, trembling pulses that make you clench around Shoko’s fingers, clit throbbing under Mikasa’s thumb. You come with a quiet, broken moan, your mouth open against Mikasa’s shoulder, tears slipping down your temples because it feels so much without hurting.

They don’t stop right away.

They ease you through it, fingers slowing to gentle strokes, thumbs brushing feather-light over your clit until the aftershocks fade to little flutters. Then they pull out slow, careful, and bring their slick fingers up to trace lazy patterns over your stomach, your ribs, your breasts, like they’re painting you with the evidence of how good you were for them.

Mikasa kisses your temple. Shoko nuzzles into the crook of your neck, lips brushing your pulse.

They stay like that, bodies pressed close, hands roaming soft and possessive, mouths leaving little kisses wherever they land.

No more teasing words. No more mean edges.

Just the three of you tangled in the sheets, breathing each other in, soft and quiet and sated.

Shoko’s the first to break the silence, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Let us stay the night?” 

Mikasa’s arm tightens around your waist.

You don’t even have to answer.

You already know you don't want them going anywhere.