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#god I'm so so sorry for how this turned out I swear I
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Forgiveness Is A Luxury
"I swear to the gods, Solace, if you mess this shit up-"
Pop.
"AUGH!"
"Hold still, Clarisse."
The brunette snarled, and for a moment Will was convinced she would skewer him with her spear. He gave a placating smile. "Sorry."
"Fuck you." Clarisse's expression indicated that she was definitely about to skewer him with her spear.
Will pretended not to notice. "The shoulder should be sore for a little while, just take some ambrosia and you should be fine."
"You enjoyed that," she accused, reaching a hand to rub her shoulder. It had been dislocated moments before, and Will had just popped it back into place. She winced, flexing her bicep a little. "Shit. Can I still spar like this?"
Will almost rolled his eyes; to think that sparring was the first thing on her mind was exasperating. Ares kids. Did they never think of anything else? "Probably not. You should wait 3-4 days before doing anything physically taxing. Maybe do something else, like pottery-"
"Pottery? I'm going to kill Sherman!" Clarisse growled, rising from her chair. She towered over Will by at least a few inches, and he was struck with the urge to stand on his tiptoes, as if it were some sort of height contest. For the gods' sake. "Thanks, Solace, I guess."
"Don't be too rough on Sherman," he replied. She made a rude gesture (so civilized), snatched up her spear, and stalked off (presumably to go yell at poor Sherman- Will suspected he knew who the next patient in the infirmary would be). As she left, she passed by a stumbling, bruised-faced dark haired boy.
"Percy," Will greeted him, careful to keep his voice neutral.
Though he would never admit it, his feelings toward Percy were...complicated. On one hand, Percy was the savior of Olympus, survivor of Tartarus, legendary hero to rival even the ancient ones. He'd even convinced the gods to change the tradition of claiming demigods- one of his greatest feats yet. That was what everyone saw him as- one of the generation's champions.
But when he looked at Percy, all Will ever saw was his dead siblings.
"Hey, Will," Percy managed a weary smile. His face was swollen with ugly spots of purple and yellow. From sparring, probably- that was all anyone ever did these days. Spar, spar, spar. What was even the point? It wasn't as if they were fighting a war anymore. Things were supposed to be better, more peaceful. Was that too much to ask for?
Focus, Solace. Will gave himself a little shake. His ADHD really did get out of hand sometimes.
He gestured to the chair Clarisse had previously occupied; Percy sat down, wincing slightly from his injuries, and Will reached over to grab a new pair of gloves. He snapped them on, and asked, "Sparring?"
"Yeah." Percy gave a pained grunt as Will grabbed his chin to tilt his face up for a better look. "Thalia kicked my ass."
"The Hunters are here?" Will's mind instantly leapt to Nico; how would he feel? The son of Hades had never truly lost his grudge against the Hunters of Artemis for taking his sister. "I thought they weren't due till December."
"Change of plans, I guess," said Percy. He squirmed as Will began to apply a thick paste to his face. "This is way too sticky." He pulled a revolted face. "Do you really have to put this on? It stinks."
"It's procedure."
"Says who?"
Will shot him a sharp look. "My brother."
It was technically Lee who made that policy, but Percy flinched, undeniably thinking of Michael.
They settled into a quiet silence, weighted only by Percy's discontented grunts as Will applied a second layer. The blond pulled away at last, wheeled around, and stripped off his gloves, tossing them into the trash can. "That should be it. Come by if a rash breaks out or your cheek starts swelling."
"Alright," said Percy. Will turned to the sink, turning on the faucet and running his hands beneath the rush of water. It was only after he started to scrub with soap, he realized he hadn't heard the footsteps of Percy walking away.
He stole a glance over his shoulder- Percy still sat in the stool, fidgeting with his fingers. He looked like he was gearing himself up for something.
"Do you need something else?"
Percy shook his head. "No," he said slowly, as if uncertain.
Will frowned, then turned back to the sink. As he grabbed a paper towel, Percy cleared his throat. "So," he said. "Um."
"Yes?"
"You and Nico...you guys are, like..."
Will scowled, turning around. "We're what?" he said defensively, his fists clenching.
"Nothing," said Percy hastily, looking guilty and rather alarmed at Will's uncharacteristically aggressive response. "Nothing- I just...didn't expect it, that's all." He cleared his throat. "I'm happy for you, man. Really."
There wasn't anything scathing Will could really say to that, so he busied himself with a new pair of gloves. "I have a patient coming in a few minutes," he said brusquely. "I'm performing a surgery. You should probably leave."
"A surgery?" Now Percy definitely looked alarmed. "I thought you're fifteen?"
"I'm a medic. I'm used to this." And I wouldn't have to be if Lee and Michael were still here.
The dark-haired boy looked at him, for a few moments, his expression contemplative. At last, he spoke in a tentative, gentle tone, one that would be used to coax a skittish animal. "Is...is this about your brothers?"
Will stiffened, his jaw clenching. He considered throttling Percy for a moment; his hand even made the gesture. Brothers. Never mind the sisters he had lost. But Percy's expression was so earnest, so genuine...his fist relaxed, slumping to his side.
"I think you should go."
He wasn't used to being cold to others; he was the sunshine boy, after all. But Percy's presence made it surprisingly easy, and maybe little too good at it.
The son of Poseidon visibly deflated. "Right. Sorry," he said, rising from the stool. The culpability in his face almost made Will apologize- but then he ground his teeth and reminded himself that this was Percy fucking Jackson. Accidentally or not, this boy was the reason Will had spent his summer burying his siblings' bodies and mourning their absences. He didn't deserve forgiveness.
"Will?" Percy was at the door, fingers curled around the knob. His lips pursed. "For the record, I-I'm really sorry. I never meant for it to happen."
There were a million things Will could've said (do you think i care?, sure you didn't, that doesn't bring them back) but he just shrugged and reached for his medical kit, pretending not to have heard.
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IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG OVERDUE LMAO WRITERS BLOCK HAS BEEN A BITCH
so i decided not to end this on a good note since i can't really see Will ever forgiving Percy for what happened to his siblings. And, of course, Percy feels guilty (even tho it's not his fault). So this is just a lose-lose situation honestly.
This fic was heavily inspired by @mediumgayitalian's work, go check her out!! she's an amazing writer!!!
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raina-at · 23 hours
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Mouse
In celebration of this fandom and how much fun I'm having right now, with the May prompts and the fic club, have a bonus ficlet set in my theatre universe . (Another one of my AUs ticked off the list) (short premise for those not familiar: John is a stage manager and Sherlock is an actor. Mary, Molly and Sally are all part of John's crew.)
This is especially for @totallysilvergirl and the members of the Johnlock fic club. You all know why.
Warning, mention of an accidental animal death.
Also, this is loosely based on a true story.
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“What on Earth are you doing?”
“Be quiet,” Molly shushes Sherlock as she drags him through the stage door into the green room area.
“Oh thank god.” John sighs in relief as he sees Sherlock enter the room. “Save me from this madness.”
“Sit back down, Watson, this is all your fault after all!” Mary snaps. She’s pregnant again and the glare she gives him is filled with the homicidal rage of the permanently uncomfortable.
John sits back down and sighs. “Okay, fine. Let’s get this over with.”
Molly pushes Sherlock into a chair. “You be quiet now, we’ll be done in five minutes.”
Molly sits on Mary’s other side on the floor and takes Sally’s hand, completing the circle.
Mary gestures to Molly. “Do you have the object?”
Molly produces the live mousetrap and puts it in the middle of the pentagram Mary has drawn on the floor. 
“I hate to repeat myself, but what the actual fuck are you doing?” Sherlock asks, watching them with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. 
They all turn their heads in surprise, because they all know how rarely Sherlock swears. 
“We’re doing an exorcism,” Molly explains. “John killed a mouse and now we’re haunted.”
“I didn’t, I repeat, DID NOT kill a mouse!” John very nearly yells, sick and tired of this argument. 
“You left the live trap open over a bank holiday weekend,” Mary growls. “The bloody mouse sprung it, died of thirst in it, and ever since we’ve had one accident after another. First my fucking brand new moving head blew on its second night, then Molly twisted her ankle, and yesterday you were nearly hit by a stage wall.”
“So did I understand this correctly? You, rational, adult, competent professionals, had a few easily explained accidents and then came to the inevitable conclusion that you’re being haunted by the angry spirit of a common house mouse?” Sherlock asks, steepling his hands under his chin. 
“Duh,” Molly mutters, rolling her eyes. 
“Anything to say, genius?” Mary asks, glaring at Sherlock in a way that makes John hope that Sherlock will consider the words that come out of his mouth next very, very carefully.
“You need sage,” Sherlock says after a moment of silent contemplation. “And candles.”
“You’re not fucking serious!” John stares at Sherlock as if he’s grown a second head, which would frankly have surprised John just a tiny bit more than the current development. “You’re superstitious? Since when?”
“All actors are superstitious,” Sherlock says, ducking into the tiny theatre kitchen. “It’s the better safe than sorry principle.” He comes back with mixed herb salt and some tealights. “This should do nicely. Budge over.” 
He sits between Sally and Molly and takes their hands.
“This must be what going mad feels like,” John mutters, but he takes Mary’s and Sally’s hands and completes the circle.
Mary shushes him and lights the candles. Then she shakes a bit of the salt over the live trap. She turns to John and gestures to the trap. “Now apologise.”
“But I—”
“I said,” Mary says with a smile sharper than a battleax. “Apologise.”
John clears his throat. “Um.” The thing is, he is sorry. He never meant to cause an animal’s death, even indirectly. They only ever use live traps for a reason. But he feels slightly ridiculous all the same. 
He knows this is necessary, though. Theatres are places where legends and superstitions and rituals live for generations. Case in point, no theatre person in their right mind would ever refer to the Scottish play by its actual name. Case in point, you never say good luck backstage. This is no different, he knows this.
Of course the knowledge doesn’t stop him from feeling completely ridiculous as he says, “I’m sorry, mouse spirit. I didn’t mean for you to die. Please forgive us and stop haunting our theatre. We’re really sorry.”
He puts a piece of cheese into the trap, and every member of his crew follows suit. Sherlock contributes another sprinkle of the herbal salt, and then Mary, in lieu of setting the trap on fire, which would trigger the smoke alarm, bashes it in with a cricket bat. It’s horribly loud, but the trap is unusable afterwards.
“Be at peace, little mouse,” Molly whispers, and John can see the tears in her eyes.
They all share a long look over the mouse trap, and then they burst out laughing.
“You’re all insane,” Sherlock says, but he’s laughing as well, and there’s a lot of affection in his voice.
“Yup,” John answers, still giggling a bit. This is my crew, he thinks. Dangerously foul-tempered, certifiably insane, scarily silly at times. And I couldn’t love them more for it. He looks at Sherlock, who’s watching him with sparkling eyes and so much unguarded affection, and he smiles. “And you fit right in.”
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Tags under the cut as usual.
@calaisreno @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @catlock-holmes @peanitbear @meetinginsamarra @friday411 @inevitably-johnlocked
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frodolives · 6 months
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1850s Tumblr Dashboard Simulator
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👸🏻 girlbossladyjane Follow
It really makes me sick to see people giving money to penny weeklies when Franklin's expedition STILL has not been found 😭 There are good men out there trapped in unimaginable temperatures and literally all that's needed is a little more funding for another rescue mission yet all you guys seem to care about are your vulgar little stories...
🧔🏻‍♂️ queerqueg Follow
the franklin expedition is dead as hell
👸🏻 girlbossladyjane Follow
Disgraceful thing to say but I'd expect nothing more from a M*lville fan
10,558 notes
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👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 hartgrindisreal
Sorry for posting so much about Tom Gradgrind/James Harthouse from Hard Times lately. It turns out that I was getting arsenic poisoning from my wallpaper? Anyway I took a seaside stroll and I'm normal now. Check your walls y'all
#whyyy did i assume they were committing unlawful actions together like where did i even get that from lol #hard times isn't even that good by dickens standards tbh
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🎨 asherbrowndurand
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Just painted this
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ss-arctic-girlie-deactivated18540927
RIP Napoleon... you may have been unable to conquer Alexander's Russia but you sure as hell conquered Alexander's bed
🖼️ preraphaelitebro Follow
HERITAGE POST
📝 shakespearesforehead Follow
How does this have less than 100k notes you could literally not avoid this post back in the 20s lol
82,170 notes
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🌄 loyalromantic Follow
poets just aren't dying young in mysterious water-related incidents like they used to :/
#as useless and degenerative as i find 'the living poets' and i'm glad we're finally moving on from them #i have to agree with op in this respect
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🎀 thefopdiaries Follow
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I finally got a daguerreotype of myself ^_^ Porcelain urn for scaling
📜 bartlebi-thescrivener
i think i hauve consumption
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🐋 whaler4life
They found oil in the ground??? WTF. THIS IS LITERALLY THE WORSTTTT. FUCK MY LIFE FOR REAL THIS TIME
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🌿 naturesnaturalist Follow
I swear this website has 0 reading comprehension skills. Darwin NEVER claimed we "evolved" from apes like if one of you guys actually bothered to open his new book you'll see all his arguments are backed up by evidence. He actually makes a lot of sense
#sure there's nuance like i don't fully agree with all of it #but his general theory of natural selection seems pretty sound imo
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🤵🏻‍♂️ byronicherotournament Follow
🙈 butchbronte Follow
Of course these are the finalists lmao this website is so predictable. Anyway vote Heathcliff if you dont i'm going to assume you're a phrenologist
📖 sapphichelenburns Follow
It's not problematic to acknowledge the fact that Heathcliff was a brute like he literally killed dogs in case you forgot. #rochestersweep
🙈 butchbronte Follow
I love the implication here that Rochester never did anything cruel either. He literally locked his wife in the attic and lied to Jane about it 😭 like that was a pretty significant thing that happened
📖 sapphichelenburns Follow
And? God forbid women do anything
#why'd you have to pit two bad bitches against each other #anyway i'm not attracted to men but still went with rochester #bc in terms of living quarters thornfield hall > wuthering heights easily
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👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 hartgrindisreal
Not the Russian tsar dying immediately after hartgrind became canon
#i know dickens hasn't technically confirmed it yet but like. SOMETHING was strongly implied ok #see: my previous post #dickensposting
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👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 hartgrindisreal
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LORD HELP ME. THE BODY LANGUAGE. THE WAY THEY'RE LOOKING AT EACH OTHER. AHHHHHH
#this installment!!! im-- #dickensposting #i can't fucking cope #dickens wants to KILL us he wants us DEAD....
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⭐️ newamerican
Hi guys sorry I haven't been posting lately it's been so difficult getting to California 💀 I'm finally here now though just need to find a pickaxe and soon I'll be digging! :-) wish me luck lol
#gold #gold rush #gold rush grind #california #adventure
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roturo · 5 months
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⋆⭒˚。⋆ SHE'S BACK!
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GUESS HE COULDN'T KEEP IT IN, SO HE HAD TO KEEP IT INSIDE! ₊˚⊹♡ dilf!gojo satoru x teacher!reader
tags: smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, exhibitionism, getting caught, he fucks you while he's on the phone, overstimulation, dumbfication, fluff, gojo has an ex-wife, yuuji is gojo's son, age-gap.
A/N: well, this was surely and adventure and maybe self-indulgent title because guess what?, i'm back baby.
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It was a nice morning, he felt clean. Like his life was finally steadying. Even after some stressful weeks trying to get rid of his now ex-wife, he won the trial and kept Yuuji. Poor little boy, just turning 5 years old and he’s already facing all this type of stress. But thankfully he will not be experiencing enduring his crazy mother behavior. Which basically was a gold digger, and a bitch– Not that he would ever say that outloud, maybe with other words? Bastard? Witch? Not that it really matters right now.
He could finally take a break now, just focusing on raising his little boy, and being an old boring 31 year old dad. Life doesn’t sound that bad.
“Daddy! Daddy!,” His son went running to his arms, almost stumbling by himself- clear happiness shown on his face. Quickly, Gojo opened his arms ready to lift the young kid. “Miss Y/N congratulated me on my homework! She was pretty amazed!”
Your name wasn’t unknown to him, Yuuji was very open when talking about his favorite teacher, even though he hasn’t seen you yet- from what he’s been told you’re the kid’s favorite, including Yuuji’s. “I had to talk about who’s my hero, and I chose you!” If this day wasn’t going great, it was now. Because his son's comment just made his whole week, life even.
“Oh look dad!” The little boy pointed towards your moving frame, each time getting clñoser towards them. “Daddy, this is Miss Y/N!” Yuuji kept presenting the both of you. He was really excited to present his two favorite persons to each other- but all Gojo could think of what’s how young and beautiful you looked. He expected someone older, maybe even an old lady with wrinkles and that loving grandma vibes, but what he saw made his heart beat in a way he never thought he would feel ever more.
“Daddy? Are you paying attention?” The little boy gained Gojo’s attention back, face now looking at him again. “I’m sorry kiddo, kinda just zoned out there. What did you just say?”
“Uhh, what was it? Oh! Did I tell you Miss Y/N told me you were a very handsome man?”
“Yuuji!” His gaze moved towards your blushed face, a hand covering part of your face. “I’m so sorry Mr.Gojo, I didn’t intend to say-”
Gojo cut you off before you could continue apologizing “It’s okay, I also think Ms.Y/N is a very beautiful woman.” 
Uh, well. So this is how kinda you found yourself in this situation right now.
You swear it wasn’t your intention! You really tried, you really did, but how could someone say no to Mr.Gojo? And mostly because he really showed his attraction towards you. Sending Yuuji with a rose for you every day, and the little boy was rooting for his dad, because dear god- he did not shut up about him, and how happy he would be with a new girlfriend and maybe one he could call ‘mommy’ and give him a sister. 
That made you blush. 
Not only because the little boy commented on it, and was agreeing- but because it was his dad’s idea.
“You’re so wet, s-shit.” Loud thrusts filled the room, he was fucking you raw on his sofa– waiting for Yuuji’s mom to bring him back, the little boy was eager to come back and ‘see Ms.Y/N and his daddy finally starting to fall in love’
Kids being kids. But, he was right- the both of you were falling in love with eachother.
Gojo throws back his head, immersed in the warmth radiating off your walls and he lets your moans take him to another world. In a haste decision, he slips your dress over your head before tossing it. He mouths at your tits, plump and stiff between his lips, and he hurdles a deeper round of thrusts inside you. 
When you get a little too loud, his hand comes over to clamp your mouth, wolf like eyes staring back at you, “Shut it. You don’t deserve to speak.”
His thin white tee that stays a barrier between you and him does not hide the rippling body underneath that seemed to be sculpted by gods. He presses into you, grunting, using you like his personal sex doll and you embrace it, thrive from it, come to it. Your hips contract, slewing in perfect circles, before having your legs fall gradually lifeless as you arousal drip down your thighs.
“Ffffucckkk- oh baby, would you like that? Be full of me and my baby? Make me a daddy again?”
“yesyesyesyes, make me yours Mr.Gojo-” 
He pays your climax no mind,a smirk clearly showing on his face while he fucks you on his sofa- You could muffle your screams of pleasure easier here. Turning your head back to face him, you notice now he’s shirtless–taut and shiny from sweat like a large set of Hawaiian rolls–before seeing how quick he is to fit back inside you.
“Good girl.” His husky voice resonates and pushes you back into the sheets. “Good girls get rewards, don’t they?” Your poor fucked up mind couldn’t think clearly now. The way your abused and overstimulated pussy was still taking his rock hard cock gratefully inside you was making every feel giddy. A sudden noise bringing back a little part of your senses, Gojo clearly grunting grabbed his what you suppose phone, and answered. Not bothering to stop his thrusts.
“Yeah?,” His voice sounded almost like a whisper because of how breathy it was. “Gojo? I’m almost at your house- Yuuji wanted some ice-cream and bought some for you and… your new girlfriend?” His chuckle interrupted his ex-wife’s conversation, accompanied with a whimper at the feeling of you clenching on him- overstimulation clearly bringing you back to climax soon again.
A slap was heard from his part of the line, an unbelievable laugh coming from his ex-wife line, clearly noticing what was going on and then she finally heard you moan. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, and you were too fucked out to feel embarrased about it right now.
“Finish before I leave Yuuji- Enjoy yourself.” Gojo was so lost in pleasure that he didn’t even realize she hung up before he even processed what happened.
His grunts and sounds of skins slapping are all you hear as he pounds you back into the sofa. It feels like heaven beneath his weight. You were feeling flushed to the touch, but making contact with his skin was like an inferno. He was the embodiment of heat and as suffocating as that could’ve been, it melts you like it’s how it always should’ve been.
His pace eventually falters, followed by a hushed “fuck,” and he empties out into your used hole. The moment he pulled out, a knock was heard. 
“Shit. Can you walk?”
PART 2
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theragethatisdesire · 10 months
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scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!
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hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!
beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol
pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader
wc: 9.1k
DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.
CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)
have fun ;)
-
This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.
“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”
“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.
“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”
“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.
“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”
“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”
You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”
“Fine!”
“Fine?”
“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”
He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.
You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.
You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.
It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.
Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.
When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”
“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.
You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”
“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”
You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”
If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.
As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”
“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.
“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.
“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.
“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.
Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.
“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”
“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.
“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”
You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–
“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.
“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”
“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.
“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”
You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.
“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.
The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.
“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.
“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”
The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.
“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.
“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.
Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.
“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”
One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”
Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”
Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”
Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.
“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”
“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.
Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.
You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.
“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.
“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”
“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”
“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”
Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”
“Sasha–”
“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”
“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”
“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.
You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.
Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.
You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?
He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.
“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.
“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.
His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–
Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.
The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.
“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.
“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.
Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.
“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.
“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”
“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.
Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.
“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”
“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.
A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”
“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”
Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”
“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”
“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.
“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”
“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.
A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.
Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.
“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”
“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”
“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.
He spits directly in Eren’s face.
Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.
“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.
“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.
“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”
You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.
“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.
“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.
He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.
Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.
Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.
“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”
“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.
“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”
No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”
You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.
“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.
Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.
“What the hell was that, Eren?”
He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.
“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”
“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.
“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”
“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.
Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”
“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.
Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”
“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”
Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”
“You’re my–”
“The other thing.”
“I needed you.”
“Again.”
“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”
He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”
“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.
“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”
Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.
“Do you still?”
“Still?”
“Need me.”
You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”
“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”
You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.
“I still need you. Now.”
Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.
“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”
A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.
His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”
You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”
Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.
Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.
Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.
“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.
“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.” 
Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.
“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”
Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin. 
“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”
“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.
“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”
A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.
“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”
“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.
“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”
Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.
He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.
Eren chuckles. “You need something?”
“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.
“You want me to stop fucking with you?”
“Please, Eren, I need you–”
“That’s all you had to say.”
And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.
Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.
“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.
“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.
“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.
“I need– fuck– I need more.”
“Magic word?”
“Please, Eren, fuck!”
“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”
Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.
“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it. 
“Close?”
“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”
“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”
Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–
“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”
The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.
“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”
He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch. 
“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”
Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”
You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”
You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”
Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.
Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.
“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”
“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”
You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.
“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”
“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.
“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”
You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.
And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.
“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”
You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.
“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”
“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”
“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.
Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.
You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.
“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”
You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.
Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.
You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.
“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”
“He’s not my-”
“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.
You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”
Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.
“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”
You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.
“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”
“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”
“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.
“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”
You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.
“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”
“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.
“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”
You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”
He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.
It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.
“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.
“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”
That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”
“Maybe he wants to apologize.”
Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”
“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.
Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.
“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”
There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.
“I just–”
“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”
You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”
“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”
Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”
“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.
“You might have me there.”
“Better than horseface?”
“Watch it.”
The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”
“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.
“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”
“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.
He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”
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clemencetaught · 1 year
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@jeoseungsaja sent in:
He'd been out all day. And this time not to get physically wounded in the process (nor to be frantically consumed by a case that's been taking his sleep away for years), but to take a last-minute trip to the beach. To send messages upon the sand. When he was little, his mother, Da-Eun, used to tell him that messages written on the sand, when touched by magnanimous waves, would be sent to those who are no longer among the living. 'Think of them as angels in the water,' she used to say with a smile, whilst taking Hyuk's small hand and guiding him to the endless grains of salt, 'they will take your message anywhere, so the one you're sending it to can read it.' He remembers writing one for his biological mother. And as time went by, he remembers writing many to Da-Eun, too. And now, to his best friend, Patrick. If it was for him, he would've sent his dear friend an entire book of thoughts. However, it's always been hard to realize that these are the only letters that, maybe (even if it's a product of imagination), will get to him. Lines on the sand, taken by sea's foam. He just writes a simple message. Hope it gets somewhere; somewhere, near him. Happy Birthday, Dae-yah. You are missed. He drinks tea in his name. Eats one of those curry puffs he liked so much. Then he heads back; head heavy. He doesn't expect anyone to be there; he told Suki and Jae-Hwan to take the day off, too. Nevertheless, when he twists the doorknob, he sees that familiar shadow again. The Black Knight. He wonders if he knows. If he cares. Well, if he read Patrick's file, then he would know. But who knows if he cares. "I'm not in the mood to see anyone today." A bitter grumble; dark eyes (saddened and tired) looking up to see the covered figure. "Any business you may have, bring it another day." But not today; not today, where he wants to remember Patrick's LIFE instead of his DEATH. He sighs, then basically pushes a bag upon the Black Knight's chest. It's a plastic bag, with the legend of red 'thank you's' written all over it. "Here, have this. I don't need it anymore." Inside, there's a foam container with multiple curry puffs. He doesn't tell him why, there's just an impulse of giving this to him, somehow. As if feeling this man is more or less similar to him. Barely eats. "Now go. Please." Nicely, because as he looks into those eyes, something simply...itches. Gnaws. Pulls strings. "I'll...see you soon." Hyuk forgot to take out the receipt from the bag. The yellowish strip has doodles made with blue ink; a hedgehog with a party hat. It also has the message 'happy birthday, best friend' written next to the drawing. Maybe letters in the sand are sent, after all. They arrive, perhaps. Not in the same of foam, but in the shape of silly doodles and receipts. (HELLO DEAR FERRE, I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND ME SENDING THIS YOUR WAY WIUEDHWIUEDH, there's no need to reply or anything BUT, I HAD TO SEND IT, EVEN IF IT'S A LITTLE LATE; HOPE THIS IS OKAY, TAKE MUCH CARE, CARE YOU TONS!!)
He shouldn’t be here.
Well, there are a lot of places Myungdae shouldn’t be, but when has that ever stopped him? So he offends ANACHRON and the law and probably a bunch of other people by trespassing, but isn’t that the Black Knight’s job in the first place? Stepping on the toes one person, one organization, one complex at a time in order to get the desired result. Waiting around and playing by the rules clearly doesn’t get him or the victims anywhere so he shouldn’t feel any guilt for this set of felonies.
And he doesn’t. Not really.
It shouldn’t be any different here, especially when neither the law nor ANACHRON ( or ARGOS for that matter ) are involved here. 
That being said- a different kind of guilt sets in his stomach here. It’s the kind where he promised Nell he would take the day off today of all days because according to her, ‘it’s your BIRTHDAY, you’re not supposed to work on your birthday’. She didn’t even let him make breakfast for her, Hiro, and Elise like he usually does. 
“Your only job is to relax for today, mate,” she had said, jabbing a finger at him that morning.
( Embarrassingly, or maybe it’s been his preference, he had forgotten about it- his birthday, one chilly day in February. When ARGOS made his new identity, it had taken Myungdae a long minute or two to remember:
“Birthday?” The stenographer had asked, fingers clicking away on his typewriter. In comparison to Nell’s typing, it was cacophony, inhospitable as the grey walls of the facility itself. Nothing at all like Nell’s. He hated it, the way it filled the silence between the probing questions.
Myungdae wavered, eyes glued to the table. When was the last time someone had asked him that? He closed his eyes trying and failing to summon an image of a calendar. “…February.” Which day was it? It wasn’t at the end, but it wasn’t quite at the start either. “Tenth.”
Could you blame him though? When the bulk of his five years were spent purely on a. avoiding ANACHRON, b. making sure ARGOS didn’t think he was burden, or c. most importantly, survival, birthdays, in turn, seem rather…ridiculous. Facetious when there are more important things to be concerned over. )
Myungdae stared back at her, eyes still groggy from having slept bent over his desk instead before she huffed, hands on her hips. “Birthdays are days only good things are allowed to happen, yeah?”
( She was kind enough to just serve him his usual first cup of coffee, however. Nevermind the hearty breakfast that she and Hiro had technically made for him; they could always have leftovers tomorrow. Alfred was kind too- simply gave him his usual coffee order and claimed it was ‘on the house’- he was practicing Latte Wednesdays, you see. )
Which implicitly also means- no BLACK KNIGHT activities today.
And yet here he is lying to her. And slipping into Hyuk’s shoebox of an office in the dead of night. He has yet to truly ask himself- why does he keep returning, coming to this mulishly hard headed detective? This detective whose bite is about as acidic as the words he flings out both carefully and recklessly. It stings each time, each visit like a scab picked off too soon. 
Myungdae tells himself each time he leaves- this will be the last time. Last time he sees his dear friend. Last time he sinks into the past. Last time he’ll put Hyuk in danger.
Sure, Hyuk won’t forgive him, just as he probably hasn’t forgiven Patrick Grace for leaving too soon, but he’ll be ALIVE.
And isn’t that the most important thing, above all else? What other reason would those last five years have been for then?
The detective is not there when Myungdae at first arrives, but air is still abloom with the scent of lilies of the valley and dust. He checks the pot by the window sill- moist, for once. Looks like the detective remembered to water it for once. 
And speaking of which, the door opens. And Myungdae dives into the shadows without another moment to spare. Oh, how Hyuk truly is a conundrum in the way he makes Myungdae’s heart race both in anticipation but also in fear. 
Myungdae is quick to roll his eyes- since when is the detective ever seeking out company? If anything, it’s the other way around: company seeks him out and then clings to him like wet seran wrap. But then he looks up, confused as suddenly, he’s carrying a bag- what’s that smell? It’s fragrant and delightful and familiar and-
He peeks inside before pulling out one of many curry buns. 
Oh. Aren’t those more common in the United Kingdom? If one really wanted to eat them here in Seoul, they’d have to go out of their way to find, like some place in Itaewon. He drops the curry bun back into the bag.
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“...I’m not here on any business.” Well, does he ever have a good reason to come back here over and over again? He’s about to dish out another quip when Hyuk’s voice gives him pause. For some reason, it’s almost…hurts to hear. There’s no acidity, no anger- just…melancholy. And a hint of desperation- like he’ll BREAK if the Black Knight says another word. The Black Knight shuts his mouth, frowning.
It stings again though, a little bit more than usual- being told to leave, even if Hyuk will be expecting him on another day. “Very well. I’ll…I'll come back another time.” He opens the window and pauses before leaping out. “...Sleep somewhere that isn’t your desk. Otherwise, you’ll blow your back out.” 
A fair distance away from the eyes of the detective and the rest of the city, Myungdae removes his hat and then his mask before reaching into the red bag. He pulls out the receipt- oh. That’s why.
And here Myungdae thought the detective would have…forgotten after all these years. Isn’t that what time is supposed to do to grief anyways- soften the edges and make the details a little blurrier, a little more difficult to remember? Fingers glide over the hedgehog and underline the hastily scrawn message: happy birthday, best friend.
Myungdae sighs.
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( When he gets back to base, Nell and Alfred are both waiting for him. Alfred, for once, sympathetic, and Nell, a little peeved, but can she be blamed? They all know this lifestyle is all-consuming- once you start, it’s hard to put the sword back down. Addictive. Myungdae doesn’t say anything, only perching on the table and setting Hyuk’s bag beside him. He opens the container, takes out A CURRY PUFF and takes a bite, chewing. Slowly.
It’s still warm. Just a little bit.
He takes another bite. )
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flowrmoth · 17 days
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...and then what happened? pt. 2
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Synopsis: ellie helps you get ready for another date, but you unexpectedly come back to her apartment a bit earlier than planned...
AN: i have no words for this, just enjoy. i got a little too carried away. hope i did it justice. (i don't know how to write smut all that well lol), also can we agree that ellie definitely whines and whimpers in bed? thanks
WC: 6.6k (jesus)
Warnings: mdni!!! smut!!!, pining, kissing, oral (r!receiving), masturbation, finger sucking, lowk loser!ellie who still gets bitches even if she doesn't do anything, lowk perv!ellie, fem!reader, ellie being sooo desperate for u she cant help herself, seriously the girl is pathetic, no use of Y/N or readers appearance
Part 1: HERE
DAILY CLICK FOR PALESTINE
WHY YOU SHOULDN'T BUY TLOU2
READ THIS
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Faded red and purple.
Those are the colors Ellie is looking at currently while examining her neck in the mirror. She's looking at the hickey closely, touching and feeling it with her fingers, the colors of it not as vibrant as they were that Saturday night.
The night that Ellie remembers, oh so well. The night that has been on replay in her mind for the past week and a half, haunting her every second of the day. It plays like a movie, over and over, until she runs out of new details to remark. She flips the images of you like a book, mesmerized by the way your body felt on hers. She remembers your skin like she remembers a painting, so soft, so warm, so inviting.
She wishes for nothing more than to touch you like that again, but she can't.
Because you're going on another date tonight.
Ellie drops her hand from her neck and shuts her eyes, head dropping low. She looks at her hands, gripping the white marble of her bathroom sink until her own knuckles turned the same color.
Why can't she get over it, like she does with other girls? Why does it have to be so hard with you?
She knew she was fucked from the moment her eyes landed on you a year and some months ago, while attending Dinas party. The way you strutted in, all smiles and pearly whites, extending your pretty hand to greet hers. Dina had warned Ellie not to mess with you, for Ellie had 'ruined' a handful of friendships between Dina and her friends who couldn't help but fall for the brunette girl, even if it wasn't her intention.
Ellie at the time, scoffed at this, treating it like a joke, but she soon saw how unbelievably difficult it was to not look at you that way.
She swears that she tried so hard not to hang around you, avoiding you like the plague. Every time Dina or Jesse would invite her to come out she would make up some type of excuse that would rid her of her friends.
"Ellieee, pleaseee! We haven't seen you in so long! Don't be a party pooper or I'll come there and take your stash and smoke it all." Dina pleaded with a whiny voice on the phone for the 10th what time.
"Oh my god, okay, who's coming?" Ellie rolled her eyes at this, anticipating Dina's answer.
"Yes, Jesus, finally you're getting your ass out of that bed! Uh, it's gonna be me, Jesse, Tyler..." she continued on until Ellie heard your name fall from Dinas lips. Her breath hitched in her throat as her heart danced in her chest.
"D, wait! I'm sorry! I just remembered, I have a physics assignment for tomorrow. I... I swear I'll make it up to you! Also, I do other shit than lay in b-" Ellie had to think quick and uni assignments always worked for these type of situations.
"I can't believe you. You owe me big time, Williams! I better have three blunts rolled by tomorrow! Be ready, bitch." and with that Dina hung up the call while Ellie sighed out a shaky breath of relief.
That's how it always went back then, they would call and Ellie would say no, she can't, she's busy.
But she couldn't keep at it for too long, you were becoming incredibly close with Dina and Jesse and Ellie knew she had to face you eventually. So, she started going out, and every time, her heart would flutter when she saw you. Her excuses were long gone and gradually, she tried to make time to see you as much as possible. You were, of course, just as eager to see her, finding her incredibly cool and funny, not to mention good looking.
Pretty soon you were inseparable, and nowadays Ellie finds herself waiting for your texts about your weekly sleepovers or a game of pool at your local bar.
Ellie steps away from her sink, wiping her hands on her grey sweatpants. Her gaze once again falls on her puzzled expression. She tries not to think about your date tonight, but so far she's been failing miserably.
Fuck my life, she thinks.
She gets out of the bathroom and heads towards her couch, wanting nothing more than to put on a dinosaur movie and smoke away her feelings. She plops down on the cushions and searches for the missing TV remote. Out of the corner of her eye, Ellie sees her phone on the coffee table light up and your name and picture flash on the cracked screen. She nervously reaches over and clears her throat before answering the call.
"Uhm, yeah? What's up?" Ellie cringes at the sound of her raspy voice, these being the first words she had spoken today.
"Ellie! Where are you? I've called you, like, 5 times already. Are you home? I need help getting ready and my roommate brought her boyfriend over and, ugh, I just can't deal with that. Can I come over?" you ramble, obviously in a rush since it was already 5 PM and your date started at 8.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm home. Come over!" Ellie said rather enthusiastically, much to her dismay. She shuts her eyes in embarrassment.
"Great! You're a life saver, love you! Be there in 15." you say happily and end the call.
Love you!
The words you uttered so nonchalantly hung in the air while Ellie tried not to take them to heart. She puts the phone back on the table and looks around.
Fuck, she had to clean up the place at least.
Ellie frantically got up and started moving things around, putting them back in their designated places. Food delivery bags, sweets and cigarette butts were all over the place. When she was satisfied, she figured she should change into something... better smelling than she had on currently. Ellie hadn't left the house in, at least, 2 days, not having the energy to interact with people. She spent them catching up on homework and watching movies. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't because of your newfound crush, but that meant she would be lying to herself.
Ellie threw the shirt she had on into the hamper and put on a fresh band T. She changed her sweats into a pair of grey shorts and put on some citrusy deodorant, maybe even spraying some into the living room to freshen it up. She quickly brushed her teeth and messed with her hair.
By the time she was done, you were already knocking on her door. Ellie looked at herself in the mirror one last time before deciding that she looked decent enough and opening the door for you to come in.
As always, you give her a big, warm smile and throw your hands around her neck, giving her a hug. It took Ellie a second to respond but she returns your hug with a light squeeze.
"Hey, you." she rasped into your hair, inhaling your coconut shampoo.
"Hey, Els! Hope you don't mind me being here. You know how Alex gets when her boyfriend comes around, I just can't." you say while rolling your eyes. You kick off your shoes and scan the room, heading towards Ellies couch and putting down your big bag.
"Yeah, I get it. Like when Dina and Jesse can't keep their hands off each other. Yuck." Ellie laughs, moving to sit down next to you.
"Exactly!" you start shuffling through your blue duffle, pulling out some clothes and a big, glittery makeup bag. "Is it okay if I use your bathroom? I need to do my makeup perfectly and the lighting is so good there." you ask Ellie with pleading eyes and a smirk, which she simply couldn't say no to.
"Of course, you don't even have to ask." Ellie throws you a lazy smile.
"Thank you!" you tell her excitedly, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. You get up with all of your stuff and stride towards the bathroom.
Ellie feels her cheeks getting warmer and redder. She gets up and follows you, "So, uh, are you excited to see, uh... her?" she utters with a nervous laugh, already forgetting your dates name even if you reminded her a million times. She leans on the doorframe of the bathroom and crosses her muscly arms.
"Yeah, I am excited to see 'her'." you look at Ellie through the mirror and put up quotations marks, like you're mocking her obvious bad memory with names. She rolls her eyes. "Sorry I forgot her name, jeez."
I don't care what her name is, she wants to say.
"It's Sophia, for the 100th time. We're going out to this sushi place, I heard its really good! I also heard that its really fancy, so I really have to up my game." you laugh, putting your hair up and examining your face.
Ellies face contorts at this and she can't help but let out a scoff, "I thought you hated sushi? Fish in general? What the hell are you gonna eat?" she asks you with furrowed brows.
"I mean, yeah, its not my favorite but I can try it. Maybe this time it'll be good!" you try to sound enthousiastic, but Ellie was right, you've always hated fish and everyone knew that.
"Why is she taking you there if you can't eat anything on the menu? Did she even ask you what you like? Remember when we went to Jesses place and you tried that fried fish he cooked and threw up?" Ellie starts questioning you, her tone dripping with jealousy. She looks at your face in the mirror and manages to catch your worried eyes, just for a flash.
"Ellie, its fine. She insisted we go there, so I didn't complain. I'll try some and if I don't like it, I'll just get a drink. That's all. Now, let me do my makeup in peace, dummy!" you usher her out, getting slightly annoyed because she was right, but you still wanted to make it work with this girl so you didn't say anything when she suggested you go to this restaurant.
Ellie simply can't believe you're going out with someone who doesn't even know you that well. You're pretty vocal about your likes and dislikes, so either this Sophia isn't listening to you or she doesn't care.
The fuck does she have that I don't? I would treat you better.
With an annoyance in her step Ellie, once again, lays down on her coffee colored sofa and opens up TikTok, mindlessly scrolling while waiting for you to finish getting ready. After a while of watching dog videos and replying to Joel's unreadable texts and his wrong use emojis, Ellie decides that rolling a blunt for when you leave is a great idea. She definitely need to get her mind off of things.
After what seemed like an hour, you come out of the bathroom. Your hips sway as the black bodycon dress you picked hugs you in all the right places, your hair frames your face like its a masterpiece and the makeup you did enhances your features perfectly. Your hands are behind your back as you make your way to the living room.
"Els, need your help with something." you say shyly, while turning your rear side to the girl.
She looks up from the table and her eyes land on your bare back. Your black, lacy bra sticking out from underneath the dress. Her gaze widens and her breath stops for a second. She wonders if you have matching panties on.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"Can't reach the zipper. Will you zip me up?" you giggle while trying to zip up the dress, but fail miserably instead.
Ellie swallows the lump that formed in her throat and gets up from the couch. "Y-yeah, of course." She says in a hushed voice.
You relax your shoulders as her own tense up. Her long fingers move towards the zipper that sits on the small of your back. One of her hands finds its way to the black zipper, while the other rests on your upper arm. Carefully, she picks up the small bead and starts moving it up you back.
You feel Ellies breath fan against you, her body heat radiating off of her. She's so close that she could see every damn freckle and baby hair on your neck, and that's precisely where she would plant a kiss right now if she could. The dip of your shoulders and collarbones were driving her crazy. She tried to drag the drop as slow as she could, just so she could stare at your curves longer.
One of the straps of your dress slip down, and Ellie picks it up and places it back. Her fingers graze your trap and it feels like fire. She sneakily caresses the spot before returning to her task.
"There, all, uh, all done." Ellie smooths down the dress slowly, picking off any lint that stuck to the soft fabric. She rests her hands on your hips, just for a second. Just to see what it feels like. You turn around with a smile and thank her. Ellie lets go of you and scratches her ear while her eyes linger on your body.
Don't be a creep, Ellie. Don't look at her chest. Don't.
You put your stuff back into the bag your brought over and take out the black open-toed heels you bought last week. Sitting down on Ellies sofa, you strap them on and get up to see how they feel. Ellies eyes never leave you.
"So, what do ya think? I look okay?" you question Ellie, swaying over to the body length mirror that hangs in the hallway. You do a turn and send Ellie a killer smile, like you're posing for a photo. Ellie thinks she's gonna explode.
"You look fucking- great, fuck. Of course you look good." Ellie shakes her head as if you asked her the most ridiculous question to exist. She leans back on the couch and observes you as you examine your face.
She imagines that you're getting ready for a date with her. Imagines giving you a kiss on the neck and planting her hands around your waist while you giggle at her and snap a photo of you two in the mirror.
"Okay, and what do you think 'bout this perfume?" now you were getting nervous, the time to leave for the date coming closer. You march over to her, heels clicking on the wooden floor. You lean down, pushing your neck into Ellies face so she could sniff you better.
You catch Ellie by surprise as she steadies herself. Her nose and lips nervously brush over your neck, just behind your ear. She takes a long inhale and closes her eyes, you signature scent filing up her senses. Your hair tickles her face.
"Smells good. As always." Ellie states quietly, not moving from the warmth of your neck. She wishes she could stay there.
"Thanks, Williams. I have to go, I'm gonna be late. So, uh, I'll let you know how the date went! You have my location if anything happens, yeah? Lock the door behind me." you put on your coat and bag and strut to the door.
"Wait, she's not picking you up?" Ellie hurriedly follows behind you. The fuck?
"Uh, no. Something's up with her car or... I don't know. I'm just gonna walk!" you say, not looking forward to the death of your feet.
"Jesus," she mutters "do you want me to drive you? It's cool." Ellies already picking up her car keys but you stop her.
You put your hand on her bicep, giving her a reassuring squeeze "Ellie, it's fine. I don't mind walking! I love walking, in fact! Don't stay up late, okay? Bye, Els!" you retort, you don't want to be a bother. Besides, walking is healthy. At least you'll get your steps in and the restaurant is 15 minutes away.
Ellie rolls her eyes, but she can't even say a comeback since you're already clacking away. She almost forgets to lock the door.
She drags her feet back to where she was sitting and finishes rolling her joint, the TV in the background playing a random movie. Ellie lights up the spliff and leans back, putting her feet up on the living room table. Finally she can relax and turn her mind off.
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The clock showed 12 AM and Ellie was fast asleep right where she sat. The spliff she smoked turned into ash and the movie she was watching ended a long time ago. The sound of her phone ringing jolted her awake, the ring tone she put specifically for you blaring loudly.
She quickly picks up the phone "Hey? Is everything okay?" Ellie muttered, still half asleep with closed lids.
"Hey, um, Ellie? Can I come over?" you slur your words slightly. Are you drunk? You sounded rushed and winded.
"Of course, angel, where are you? Should I pick you up? Are you okay?" Ellie asks in a panic, now wide awake. She didn't even notice the way her nickname for you slipped out.
"Yeah, everything's fine, just need to, uh, see you." you sniffle "I'm gonna be up in a sec." you tell her and hang up the call.
Ellie rushes to the door to unlock it and sees your fallen face. She stands to the side and lets you in as you take off your heels and fall face first into the cream cushions.
"What happened?" Ellie asks as she sits down next to you, placing a careful hand on your back.
"Nothing, I just... It was so weird. Everything was okay at first, we were drinking and laughing, and then we went back to her place and she was acting strange and kinda like an asshole, so I left. The sushi was shit, by the way." you chuckle, wiping the one tear that slipped from your eye.
Ellie had a concerned look on her face as she opened up her arms, inviting you for a hug. "Come here." You place your head on her warm chest and close your eyes, humming contently. "I didn't know where to go and you were so close, so yeah. Sorry if I woke you up, though." you whisper into her.
"It's okay, just glad that you're okay. Wanna take a shower? You can sleep here if you want." Ellie smiles at you while wiping smudged mascara from your cheek. Your painted lips tug into a smile and Ellie wonders how that shade of pink would look on her.
"Yes, please." you mutter softly and let go of her body.
Ellie gets up and swiftly makes her way to her bedroom. She rummages through her messy closet until she finds a pair of grey boxers, some socks, a t-shirt and a towel. Jesus Christ, I need to clean more often.
"Here you go." she hands you the clean clothes.
"Thanks, Els. I don't know what I would do without you." you smile at her hazily, your eyes having this sort of gloss over them, like the one Ellie saw that night. You make your way to the bathroom and close the door. She hears the water turn on and the sound of the shower curtains rustling.
Don't imagine her naked, you idiot.
Ellie lets out a sigh she didn't know she was holding as she settles into the daybed comfortably.
You finish your shower and plop down next to Ellie. The smell of her pine-like shampoo fills her nose. The thought of you showering with her stuff and using her towel and sleeping in her clothes makes her head dizzy with the sheer domesticity she so badly yearns for.
Ellies sprawled out in a laying position, one hand under her head while the other plays around with the TV remote. You wrap your arms around Ellies tattooed one, leaning your head on her shoulder. One of your legs rests on top of hers, hiking up your her boxers in the process.
Fuck.
Ellie can't help but gaze down at your body, the way her bottoms hug your thighs and how her shirt looks so fucking good on you. To say that you look hot would be an understatement. She knew she looked stiff as fuck but she didn't dare move a muscle. Ellie feared that even a slight movement would cause you to detach from her, so she stayed still.
"You okay, El?" you ask as you notice the change in her demeaner, shifting your stare to the side of her face. Even though the only light was coming from the TV, you could still se the slight nervousness that was present on the girls face.
Ellie snaps her head towards you and clears her throat "What? Yeah, angel. I'm fine, sorry. Just watching the show." she sends a smile your way as her eyes focus on the TV, your own burning a hole in the side of Ellies neck.
She puts a daring tattooed hand atop your thigh in a reassuring matter. You hum against her and turn your attention back to the documentary that was playing.
Ellies feels her heart palpate and she wonders how far the nearest hospital is from her apartment.
You lay like that for a while, comfort and warmth surrounding your tangled bodies. You didn't move and Ellie took that as a sign that her clammy hand on your thigh didn't present itself as a problem.
Ellie thought she was dreaming.
Out of nowhere you let out a chuckle, obviously remembering something funny. "What is it?" Ellie asks you.
"Nothing I just- nothing, doesn't matter." a giggle escapes your lips as you nuzzle closer to Ellies body.
"Weirdo." Ellie jokes with a squeeze to your leg.
After a 2 minute silence, you whisper something that sends Ellie into orbit "I didn't even come..."
What the fuck?
Did she heart that right?
Ellies body hardens as she questions. "Come- come where?" the embarrassing ask leaves her mouth before she can even think about what you meant. You laugh at her confused tone.
"No, Els, I mean, like, I didn't even come when I was with her." you hide your face in your palm and whisper the 'come' part, suddenly feeling embarrassed that you even admitted something like this to your friend. Ellie understands.
Oh my god.
The brunette thinks she might just die right here. You almost never talk about sex. I mean, here and there of course, but never intimately like this. You both knew more about Dinas and Jesses sex like than yours, everything you found out against your will. Ellie didn't even know if she wanted to hear about your love endeavours, she didn't know if she could handle the sheer thought of someone else's naming dripping from your lips in that way.
But this, this intrigued her as she continued to ask.
"What do you mean?" Ellie tries not to prod to much, still acting dumb.
"I mean, we were going at it but after she was done, that was it. She left me high and dry. She didn't even give me aftercare, she just went on her phone." you laugh feeling more comfortable to tell the story "That's why I left. I felt embarrassed."
This fucking bitch. she thinks about the girl. She couldn't comprehend what you were telling her. Someone was having sex with you? And you didn't finish? That wasn't their priority?
Ellie can't help but let out a scoff as her mouth hangs open with disbelief.
I would never fucking do that.
"Do what?" you question her, giving her a puzzled look.
Shit, did she say that out loud?
"I- I mean, I would never just leave a girl hanging like that. Making a girl finish is sometimes better than sex itself, shit." Ellie lets out a mocking laugh, the weed that still buzzed in her giving her confidence. This made your stomach swirl in a way that was all to familiar, the thought of Ellie in compromising positions.
"Don't feel embarrassed, she's a fucking idiot. Doesn't deserve you." her grip on your thigh hardens and you would be lying if you said that it didn't have any effect on you. Ellie wasn't the only one still drunk on substances, the alcohol you had earlier still present in your body.
"Yeah, you're right." you mutter out, hiking your leg upwards, your knee nearing Ellies crotch. This doesn't go unnoticed by the brunette.
"Of course I fucking am." she says like its fact, her eyes darting between your knee and the TV.
The comforting silence returns and soon enough Ellie puts on a TV show you both love, but you couldn't focus on anything but her body underneath yours. Its not like you didn't think about Ellie. Of course you did. Every fucking gay girl with eyes saw how attractive Ellie was. Her eyes, her crooked smile and that fucking tattoo that adorned her forearm were enough to make a girls knees weak. Dina had subtly mentioned how Ellie was a bit of a player, so you didn't wanna indulge in her games. As you grew closer to her, you saw how sweet she actually was. Yeah, she could be an ass sometimes, but that was just Ellie. You saw right through her hard exterior and discovered her nerdy and warm side. Still, you didn't want to compromise your friendship with her or Dina, so you just moved on.
You move your head to rest in the crook of Ellies neck, feeling her pulse quicken at the action. Racy thoughts were swirling in your head and your tongue was faster than your tipsy brain.
"Now I'm all pent up." the whisper came out so hushed that even Ellie barely heard it.
The air shifts and Ellie nearly looses her mind. You could cut the tension with a knife. What the fuck were you doing? Surely this isn't something innocent. Suddenly she could feel every inch of your body on hers, a cold sweat running down her insides.
What the fuck does she do now?
Shit.
"Y-yeah?" she whispers even quieter then you, testing the waters. Fuck it, she thought. She could feel the warmth of your centre radiating on her thigh and that was enough for her. With her gaze still on the screen, Ellie moves her hand up your thigh slowly, landing near the bottom of your cotton boxers. She takes the hem between her fingers and plays with it. Maybe this seemed like a bold move, but her insides were doing fucking backflips. She patiently waited for your next move.
"Yeah, got all worked up..." you rasp out, craning your neck to the side and lightly brushing your lips on the red mark you left some days ago. You unhook your leg from Ellies waist and turn to lay on your back, still clinging to her right arm. Ellies hand slips from your ass and lands on the inner part of your leg. Nobody speaks a word.
Ellie thinks she might pass out.
Her fingers draw deliberate circles on your skin, still unsure of her movements. Slowly but surely, they dance up your leg and land again on the hem of your shorts. Ellies eyes are wide with blown out pupils, her breaths come out ragged and short. She can't keep her eyes off of you. Her digits linger for a moment or two, before her pinky grazes your sweet spot. The thing she yearns for. You let out a quick sigh of relief as you both come to an understanding of what's about to happen, but neither of you verbally confirm it. No words need to be said.
Your grip on her arm tightens, silently signaling for her to continue what she was doing. She moves her pinky up and down and if she moved just an inch, she would be right where you needed her.
Ellie decides that she would be taking her sweet ass time. She'd been waiting too long for this to be over in a matter of minutes. She finally feels like she's in control. Her bangs stick to her forehead, her brows are furrowed and they way she's biting her lip will definitely leave a mark. She couldn't see your face, but she imagines its mimicking hers.
You buck your hips up, just a tad, just to let her know its safe to go further. Ellie moves your leg with hers slowly as she opens up your thighs. She so badly wishes to see the view below, so sure that the cotton boxers were a darker shade of grey in the middle. Her throat is dry at the mere thought of your slick.
Ellie moves her hand to cup your cunt, the pads of her digits pressing against your hole lightly. She was right, you were wet.
You were wet for her.
The words keep repeating in her mind.
It takes everything in her not to flip you around and fill you up with her strap, but she can't. Not yet. Not now. Another time if her stars are lucky.
You let out a low moan that you were holding on to while digging your nails into Ellies bicep. Ellies tattooed hand moves up, her fingers tracing your bud with a light pressure, enough to elicit another groan out of you. Ellie groans quietly just at the sight of her hand on your pussy. Her pressure on your clit hardens and she moves her fingers faster. You instinctively open your legs more, giving her better access to play with you.
She halts her movements and you almost whine at the loss of her touch. She slowly lifts up the band of your boxers and slips her hand in. She doesn't know why but she's surprised at the loss of your panties underneath the shorts. Ellie remembers seeing the lace adorning your back just a couple of hours ago and wondering what you were wearing down below. Its a good surprise nonetheless.
You arch your back at the sudden contact of Ellies cold digits on your puffy clit. She circles it again before moving down to gather your slick on her fingers, returning them to your bud.
"E-Ellie..." her name falling from your lips in the most beautiful way Ellie has ever heard and she thinks she could come just from that. Your bury your face in her neck and she feels your every breath.
"Yeah, baby?" she rasps out, continuing to roll your clit around in hard but slow movements. You kiss her neck a bit harder this time, leaving wet trails all the way up to her jaw. Her smell is intoxicating to you. You need more.
"Need more, El." you mutter out shyly. It was embarrassing how quickly you soaked your panties for her. You didn't know that Ellies were even worse than yours.
She dips her head down and catches your lips with hers in a slow kiss. Ellie thinks she's on top of the world.
The touch was electric and Ellie felt as if you were the missing piece to her puzzle. You let go of her arms as you straddle her waist, tangling your hands behind her neck and in her hair. Ellie lets out a groan at the tug of her locks as her hands come up to rest on your ass. She kisses you with so much want and so much need, she doesn't even stop for a quick breath. You both slow down as her hand once again finds your wet centre and you can't help but let out a moan into Ellies mouth. She rubs you through your boxers, teasing you again.
"El, please..." you plead with her, you can't take it anymore. Your head falls into the crook of her neck as you leave another hickey next to the old one.
Ellie feels like a god when she hears her name fall from your mouth, so sickly sweet, so desperate, just for her.
"What do you want, baby? Hm? Tell me." she's not even that much of a dirty talker, but she needs to hear you say it. Needs to hear you say how badly you want her. The craving for you growing stronger.
"Anything. Do whatever you want." the words you say come out in a moan as you grind down on her rough palm.
In a swift motion she flips you over to lay on your back. Your legs wrap around her waist as she pulls up your chin for a deep kiss. Both of you are a moaning mess at this point. The pillows on her couch were thrown somewhere on the floor, the TV long forgotten. Ellie pulls her shirt above her head and you almost salivate at the sight of her abs, her Calvin Kleins peeking out from her shorts. Her messy auburn hair and bitten lips leave you wanting more. You pull her in by her sports bra to continue the kiss. Her fingers toy with the bottom of your shirt as she lifts it up above your tits, the cold air nipping at your exposed skin.
She kisses down your body, starting from your neck down to your clavicle. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do this." Ellies words sound breathless as she kneads your tits in her hands, running her fingers over your hardened nipples. She kisses them slowly, making sure to leave a few of her marks.
Ellie can't wait any longer, the need to taste you overcomes her completely.
She gets on her knees in front of the couch and settles between your soft thighs, kissing and biting them delicately. Her long digits drag over your tits all the way to your knees. "Can I taste you? Please?" and Ellie didn't even have to ask by the looks of you.
Ellie wishes she could take a picture right now. Your cute face is all blushy, bitten lips waiting for a moan to slip out. Your hair spills around you like you're a work of art. God, don't even get her started on how your perfect body looks under hers.
And who are you to deny her? Her whiny tone and big eyes are enough to send you over the edge.
"Yes, Ellie. Hurry up. Please." you sound just as pathetic as her.
Ellie eyes your heat, pressing a teasing finger right on your wet clit. She bunches up the boxers and slips her hand underneath, touching you with her cold knuckles and dragging them down your slit slowly. The reaction that this elicits from you makes her roll her eyes to the back of her head. She carefully but quickly takes off the cotton material and throws it behind her.
"Jesus, you're so fucking wet." and it feels so pathetic, how wet you got just from a few touches. You don't even wanna know how fast you'll come if she keeps this up.
Ellie finally bows her head down and licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, making you buck your hips to her mouth from the action. She shuts her eyes and groans from your taste. Tastes so fucking sweet. She thinks she could live off of you alone. She continues gathering your slick on her tongue as she circles your clit, pulling you closer by your thighs. Her moans mix with your own and you don't think you could hold on any longer.
"E-Els, oh my god. Keep, fuck, keep going!" you croak out while arching your back, pushing into Ellies tongue.
"Hold on, baby. Don't come yet. Just a little longer. Shit, you taste so fucking good." Ellie grumbles between your folds, nose bumping into your bud as she nuzzles deeper. Her chin is covered in your wetness, dripping down the couch.
Her right hand unwraps from your thigh and reaches down into her own shorts. Ellie can't help it, her own slick pooling in her underwear. The thought of her face in your cunt making her go crazy. She speeds up her tongue while she simultaneously rubs her own clit. She doesn't even bother to take off her boxers.
"Tell me when you're close, angel. Okay?" the sound of her voice sending vibrations to your body. You nod frantically, too pent up to even use your words. All you can focus on is her heaven-sent tongue that's working on you.
However, you do notice her sneaky hand in her boxers, and the sight alone makes the tight coil in your stomach snap. Ellie's lapping at you like you're her last meal in the world while her wrist is working on her own clit. The sight is pitiful one, how she's about to come just from eating a girl out. Not just any girl. Her girl.
"Ellie, I'm close, fuck, 'm gonna- gonna come!" you whine with your hands tightly tangled in Ellie's hair. "Yeah, fu- you gonna come for m-me?" and as she utters those words and as her pace is just right, both of you finish at the same time, hot flashes running through your bodies. Ellie's hand and mouth are still not letting up as she works trough your orgasms.
She slows down and takes her hand out of her shorts and lazily wraps it around your thigh. "El- stop, stop, stop, can't take, fuck- can't take anymore." you hum out, your hand wiping the beads of sweat from your forehead. Ellie groans in reply, so pussy drunk on your taste that she just can't bring herself to let up. "Ellie! Please..." you push her head away, feeling overstimulated.
"Okay okay, sorry angel." her mouth detaches from your bud with a pop and she continues placing small licks on your hole, cleaning you up. She finishes with a few kisses placed on your clit and inner thighs.
Ellie quickly gets up with wobbly legs and goes to the bathroom to get a fresh towel to clean up the scene that just unfolded. As she looks at herself in the mirror, she sees your shinny slick dripping down her chin and she can't help but smirk at the sight.
She makes her way towards you and now she really wishes she had a fucking camera somewhere here, because even the greatest renaissance painters couldn't have painted a better portrait. You turn your head to look at Ellie with you shirt sitting under your chin, your bottom half completely naked and as the cherry on top, your perfect smile and hazy eyes looking right at her.
She blushes as she sits down next you, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Hey, brought you a clean rag." she says, suddenly feeling very shy under your piercing gaze. "Thanks, babe." you tell her before pulling her down by her bra for a sweet kiss. Ellie immediately melts into you as you taste yourself on her lips. Her heart flutters at the word babe.
"Was, uh, was that good?" her pleading eyes look into your own as she questions you quietly. "Ellie, you're joking, right?" you giggle as you run your fingers through her auburn locks. She turns away from your gaze while a deep blush creeps onto her cheeks.
"Hey," you turn her head towards yours "I don't think I ever came that fast in my life." your blown out pupils meet her own and Ellie's stomach dances at your words.
You pick up her right hand, still looking deep into her eyes. A playful and dangerous look enhancing your stare. You bring up her fingers to your lips, parting them just enough for her digits to slip in, licking them clean from the girls come. Ellie sees white for a second. She pushes them in deeper, and now she can't help but imagine some other things she would do to you.
"Round 2?"
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augustinewrites · 1 month
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“sorry i'm late,” you sigh, hurrying into the teacher’s lounge much later than usual. shoko’s the only one there, feet propped up on the coffee table as she flips through a medical journal. you throw your coat over the back of a chair before joining her, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes 
“morning, sunshine.” shoko chuckles, handing you a mug. “this is a double shot, but maybe i should have gotten you a triple? what kept you up last night?”
“nothing," you quickly defend.
“you sure? because i'm not above blocking all the exits until you tell me.”
“you promise not to judge?”
“not out loud.” 
you roll your eyes at your best friend, but wring your hands tightly in your lap as you recall the events of last night. “have you ever had a…a special dream–”
shoko sits up straight, eyes wide as she says, much too loud, “you mean a sex dream?”
“shh!” you swat her on the arm, glaring. 
shoko ignores your obvious distress, grinning from ear to ear. “who are you having sex dreams about? is it ijichi? akari? oh my god, is it me? is it gojo? don’t tell me it’s gojo…”
“i may have been dreaming about…kento.”
“nanami?!”
heat immediately pools in your cheeks. “you can’t tell anyone, especially gojo. and hey, don't say it like that!” 
“i swear i’m not judging!” she promises. “if anything, i approve!”
“ugh,” you groan, heading over to the counter to put your unfinished mug in the sink. “i don’t know what’s going on with me.”
“fantasizing is normal. i’ve fantasized about everyone here. you, nanami, even gojo.”
“seriously?”
she takes a sip of her coffee, shrugging. “i'm a scorpio.”
that explains nothing and in no way makes you feel any better. if anything, you’re starting to feel a little possessive over someone who isn't even yours. 
“well i need to stop thinking about him like this,” you mutter, frowning.
“back to your dream. did you guys…do it?”
“shoko!” you gasp, gaze darting to the open door.
“so you did,” she deduces. “was it good?”
it was great. not that you’d tell her. 
“hey, naughty is good. naughty is sexy,” she laughs.
you rest your hip against the counter, shaking your head. “i can’t dream of him like that again. i can’t go on missions with him if i’m having these…inappropriate thoughts.”
“why? cause you want to be his good girl?”
some clears their throat loudly. 
both your heads whip toward the door, where nanami’s standing with his briefcase. “good morning.”
as he walks further into the lounge you wonder two things. first, how much he heard. second, how much force would it take to put your head through the wall–
“excuse me.” your entire body stiffens when a hand is placed on your waist, nanami gently moving you to the side as he grabs a mug from the cabinet. 
memories of last night’s dream invade the crevices of your mind, causing you to quickly step out of his reach. with his back turned you look to shoko for help, who simply makes a circle with her thumb and index finger and–
you feign casualness when nanami turns to face you, sending you a small smile before taking his coffee and making a swift exit.
shoko bursts out laughing as you groan, wishing you could melt into the floor.
_____
“look at them. they're totally talking about us,” gojo mutters, peeking into the teacher’s lounge.
“so?” nanami asks, prying gojo’s hand from his sleeve. 
“so, what do you think they're talking about? oh– oh, shoko just pulled out her phone. maybe they're talking about the thirst trap i posted for–”
nanami grabs the back of gojo’s shirt collar, dragging him away from the door. “why would they be talking about a picture you posted for your fiancée?” 
“because i'm hot–”
“please stop talking.”
“you’re hot too, nanamin! someone’s been giving you the look lately.” 
that makes him pause. “really? what look?”
the sorcerer wriggles out of his grip, an irritatingly wide grin on his face. “got your attention, did i?”
“what did you mean by that? what look?”
“the look. you know, the one where you’re picturing someone naked. fantasizing about them. caught her once while you were cooking us dinner. speaking of, what’s that one dish you made with the…”
nanami tunes out gojo’s nonsensical rambling, focusing on the few important things he’d shared as they walk down the hall. you were picturing him naked?
interesting. 
_____
when you open the front door of your apartment, nanami is standing there with a bag of groceries and a bottle of wine.
oh no. this is how the fantasies always start. 
“i was on my way home and wondered if you’ve eaten yet.”
you’d eaten two hours ago, but you step back to let him inside and get set up in the kitchen.
soon enough, your little kitchen is filled with the sound and scents of a home cooked meal. nanami is a natural in the kitchen, tossing veggies in a pan and stirring his homemade sauce.
(it almost looks as good as nanami does with his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, cooking dinner in your apartment.) 
you’re snapped out of your thoughts when he reaches over to refill your glass. he refills his own, covering the pot and leaving it to simmer as he turns to where you’re perched on the counter.
“i wanted to talk to you about something,” he says suddenly, sweating his glass down. 
“hm?”
“i’m not above a few fantasies of my own.”
you almost choke on your wine. “gojo told you–”
he’s standing between your knees now, taking the glass from your hand and setting it aside. “i fantasize about you too.”
“you do?”
“i could tell you about them,” he suggests, voice dropping to a whisper as the tip of his nose nudges yours. “if you’re a good girl.”
3K notes · View notes
verstarppen · 7 months
Note
omfg i love your fics they’re so funny 😭😭 i had an idea for a max fic that i think you would do so well 🫶 so like she’s his teammate and she has a bf (no idea who but prob another athlete or something since they tend to kinda be fboys 👀 but not another driver please because those dynamics make me cringe in second hand embarrassment 🙏) then he like cheats on her publicly, but she decides to live in idgafistan and max helps her make her ex jealous 😝 but he’s like actually been into her for a really long time and everyone ships them and stuff and then he bags her with his irresistible chronically offline awkward white boy rizz 💋
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summary; cheaters deserve to get cheated out of their career, or at least that's how max justifies destroying your ex's life
pairing; max verstappen x fem! red bull driver! reader [ no faceclaim ]
warnings; suggestive language, swearing
a/n; DISCLAIMER the boyfriend is made up and also a sims 2 reference, if by chance there is a real tennis player by the name of Dominic Lothario im so sorry sir this was not written with you in mind ALSO this is my VERY sneaky way of telling everyone my favorite song is trophäe by paula carolina so naturally i had to shove the word trophy everywhere to justify using lyrics as the title I HOPE I DID YOUR PROMPT JUSTICE also i skipped over singapore because we don't talk about singapore
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liked by ynln7, charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 2,104,962 others
maxverstappen1 The only time I've cheated.
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feeltheorange WHAT DID HE SAYYYY
meepshoemaker the double take i just did cracked my neck
yukinator22 NAHHHHHHHHH
albogeant BRO DIDN'T EVEN GIVE HER TIME TO RECOVER LMAOOOOOOOO
ynln7 everyone has permission to laugh i came up with the caption
pierregasly Thank god charles_leclerc I'm going to hell I laughed before I saw your comment pierregasly Me too ynln7 assholes (affectionately)
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liked by christianhorner, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 4,592,577 others
ynln7 anyway
view all 909,289 comments
christianhorner This is not the team bonding I was talking about
charles_leclerc Shut up, some of us have waited years for this pierregasly Seconded danielricciardo Third...ed?
simplyclerc LET HIM COOK
lionkingseb max verstapprizz
mcmango he saw an opportunity and he took it
redbullpapaya i manifested this with magic beyond the human comprehension
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liked by maxverstappen1, ynln7, christianhorner and 2,102,094 others
redbullracing An immaculate performance today from @ maxvestappen1 and @ ynln7 that’s a 6th Constructors’ Championship for the team!! 🏆 CONGRATULATIONS, WORLD CHAMPIONS!!
view all 869,291 comments
super_max they know they ate
staraikkonen the blueprint for all powercouples
shadownorris LET'S FUCKING GOOOOO
angelricciardo talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference
dominic_lothario 👎
redbullracing Shouldn't you be looking for a job? What are you doing in our comments.
kirbyvettel MAXY/N SWEEP
maxverstappen1 The trophy is not my only win this week @ ynln7
ynln7 ok now let me pass you maxverstappen1 No 🧡 You're pretty in p2
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, christianhorner and 693,420 others
ynln7 celebrating the win the RIGHT way (playing f1 2023)
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easportsf1 Amen
ynln7 LMAO
maxverstappen1 I let you win
ynln7 bruised ego alert
christianhorner Such a RESPONSIBLE team, aren't we?
orangleclerc THE T-SHIRT
strawberryrosberg Did they turn down the afterparty invite for this because mad respect
charles_leclerc Tell me your record, I'll beat it
ynln7 in your dreams, leclerc maxverstappen1 Beat us in real life first charles_leclerc First of all.
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pic credits: instagram and pinterest
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evie-sturns · 24 days
Text
wrong room - Matt Sturniolo
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summary: you recently met nick through social media, he invites you over to his house for the night. while walking to the bathroom you accidentally enter the wrong room, walking in on matt masturbating.
contains: smut, caught masturbating, soft!dom matt, swearing, light choking.
a/n: this fic will contain different pov's between yours and matts, but it will have a little text so you will known when.
—----------------┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐----------———
i met nick just the other month at taras party, we instantly clicked resulting in him inviting me round today. i've been hanging out with him around his house his whole day with one of his triplet brothers, chris, i think.
(y/n's pov)
i lean against nicks countertop as he has a poor attempt to cook, "nick- nick no!" i laugh, grabbing the bag of flour as he repeatedly hits it with his elbow while mixing the dough.
"oh god, my fault" he says with a a grin as chris walks over, he spanks the cookie dough which is inside the mixing bowl, earning a slap from nick.
"okay- i'll give it a go." i decide to finally step up, nick steps out of the way as i look into the bowl, its somehow completely unmixed even after hes mixed for a solid 5 minutes.
i look over my shoulder, my eyebrows knit in confusion as i lock eyes with nick, "i'm actually not sure how i managed that."
"its okay baking isn't for everyone." i tease, he scoffs as chris laughs, "how do you mix for 20 minutes and all the ingredients look the exact same as when we put them in the bowl." chris says,
nick mocks him with a finger in the air and a nerdy tone, chris punches his shoulder.
i step away, "do you guys have a bathroom?" i ask, "nah we shit in the woods." chris says.
"yeah, we use the bark off the trees to wipe then bury it with our hands." nick adds on, unlocking the backdoor and opening it for me.
i go to walk out slowly, chris grabs my shoulder and spins me around, "down the hallway, and the last door on the left."
"oh-" i say with a loud laugh as i walk down the hall, i hear the metal of the bowl collide with the wooden floor from behind me "shit!" nick says.
i get to the end of the corridor and look to my right, the door is shut. i grip the handle and open it,
my eyes widen as i instantly grow hot, the third triplet, matt, is laying across the bed. hes wearing a green shirt and a necklace hangs loosely around his neck. his sweatpants are tugged down to his mid thighs as he's repeatedly running his hand up and down his length with his head thrown back.
(matts pov)
"fuck- fuck fuck-" strings of whimpers exit my mouth as slick noises fill the room, i brush my fingers over my sensitive tip before continuing to run my hand up and down my cock, the cold metal of my rings dragging against the veins.
"oh my god 'm- please please-" i whine, squeezing my eyes shut as i throw my head back against my headboard. my ears ring,
i dont even register the click of the door opening until i hear a feminine gasp "shit-" i hear.
my eyes spring open as i abruptly stop all hand movements, she stares at me in shock. her face is white and her mouth is open, after a few seconds she scrambles out of the room with several 'sorry's'
i sigh as my cheeks grow red, i didn't even cover myself. my hand is still wrapped around my length.
i stand up out of bed, my legs weak. i'm still hard but i've completely lost my train of thought, too embarrassed to think about finishing now. i hear the bathroom door slam shut, meaning that this girl has now found the bathroom.
i pull up my sweatpants, grabbing hand sanitiser off my bedside table and clean up my hands before pulling up my sweatpants.
"matt!!" i hear nick call from the kitchen. i open the door of my bedroom before making my way up the corridor.
(y/n's pov)
i unlock the door to the bathroom before walking back up towards the kitchen, the 3 triplets are there.
"we got the cookies in the oven but it turned to fucking liquid as soon as we put 'em in." chris says, pulling out the chair to the dining table and flopping down on it,
"this is matt, i don't think you've met him yet." nick says, matt and i lock eyes and he sticks his hand out for a hand shake.
i hesitate before shaking his hand, "formal ass greeting" nick says, elbowing matt and sitting down at the table, "sorry- 'm matt" matt says, running a hand through his hair "no worries, im y/n!" i say chirpily
all four of us gather at the table, matt is directly opposite me and i can feel his eyes lying on me, we keep making eye contact as chris and nick speak with each other about god knows, hes painfully attractive i have to admit, his tatoos, rings, awkward persona.
"its almost midnight, do you wanna start headed to bed?" nick asks me, i nod before walking off with nick towards his room.
"are you okay?" nick asks me as soon as the door shuts, "no- no i'm fine."
"is it matt?" nick laughs slightly as he pulls on a crewneck sweater and leaps into his bed. "yeah- no- i mean it's just i've met him before..?" i lie through my teeth, nick nods suspicously.
"well i'm tired as shit so i'm gonna cut it" nick says, "cut it?" i laugh, laying down beside nick.
"go to sleep? cut it....?" he smiles with a shrug.
-
nicks fast asleep, i just now remember the fact the cookies have been in the oven for over 35 minutes. i jump up, speed-walking out of the room and into the kitchen. i take out the metal tray, the 'cookies' are just lumps of charcoal now.
with a groan i exit the kitchen, i can see through the crack in his bedroom door that matt's still awake.
i don't know what posseses me but i knock softly on the door, "come in." i hear.
i open the door, matts shirtless in bed, still wearing those sweatpants from earlier.
(matt's pov)
my eyes widen as i see her walk into the room, "hi, uh- i just wanted to apologise for earlier." she says, i stand up out of bed to get closer to her, she shuts the door behind her. she’s only wearing a loose and long shirt which looks like a dress on her, with panties, which show every time she lifts up her arms.
"i should've knocked." she continues, i smile and shake my head.
"no i totally get it, honest mistake" i reply, "wasn't the best way to meet you so i'm sorry about that." she laughs slightly.
"its all okay," i say, "so you're not mad at me?" she asks shyly. "i would never be mad about that?" i sigh, pulling her into a hug.
theres a thick tension in the air, i don't know where it's come from but i know we are both feeling it.
she looks up at me, my arms are still loosely wrapped around her back.
she grabs my jaw before colliding our lips together, her lips are soft, i hesitate before kissing her back, my hand lacing into her hair.
i guide her back, she falls backwards onto my matress as our lips stay joined, our tongues now fighting for dominance.
her hands reach down and start tugging down my waistband. i pull away for a second, “are you sure?” i ask her, she nods frantically “please- yes.”
“arms up.” i say, she puts her arms above her head as i reach down, pulling off her loose tshirt. my eyes fall to her tits as my cheeks flush, she squirms on the matress impatiently.
i tug off her panties, discarding them somewhere across my room. she’s fully bare infront of me, her top teeth sinking into her bottom lip.
i lean over her to reach my bedside table, fiddling around in the drawer for a condom, “i’m on the pill,” she says grabbing my wrist and pulling me away
“oh shit okay!” i say, sounding a little too excited. she laughs slightly.
“you gotta be really, fucking, quiet.” i stare into her eyes, “nick is through that fucking wall and chris is the other side, if you get too loud i’ll stop mhm?”
she nods frantically “yes- yeah okay”
i line myself up with her, my hand travels down to grip her waist and i hold her hand with my free hand.
i push inside of her, instantly feeling her grip around me. i immediately worry, there’s not a single chance i’m lasting past a minute with her being this tight.
she lets out a delicate moan, holding herself back as she presses her lips together. i give her a minute to adjust before thrusting out to my tip, then pressing deeper inside of her.
with each thrust i pick up my pace as i stay concentrated on the wall, trying not to instantly cum.
she throws her head back, arching her back off my bed as every so often she lets out a shaky deep breath. i take the hand that’s on her waist and press down on her lower abdomen, seeing how far i can push her before she makes a noise.
i stop holding her hand with my other hand, and start tracing figure 8’s on her clit.
she finally breaks, letting on a desperate moan which seemed to come out louder than expected. i quicken my movements before slamming a hand over her pretty mouth. i hear a muffled ‘close’ and i continue to toy with her clit, keeping a hand plastered on her mouth.
she clenches around me, a whimper falls from my mouth as i feel her release, screaming my name.
i take my hand off her clit and place a hand on her throat, pressing lightly as she comes down from her high.
i pull out of her, finishing in my hand.
i flip down next to her, pulling her ontop of me and rubbing her back soothingly as i attempt to catch my breath. “matt..” i hear her say quietly,
“mhmm?” i reply, “can you walk me back to nicks room.” she says, sitting up on my thighs and reaching for her shirt.
“yeah, of course.” i say with a smile.
she crawls off of me to retrieve her underwear, which landed on my computer keyboard.
i sit up, pulling on my sweatpants and a soft shirt before grabbing her hand.
i creak open my bedroom door, she follows close behind me. i open the door to nicks room where he’s spread out on his bed, fast asleep. i pull down the covers and sweep her off her feet.
i lay her down on the bed, adjusting her head on the pillow before pulling up the duvet, i press my lips to her forehead before leaving the room.
————————-
(y/n’s pov)
9:38am
i wake up to the sun blaring on my face, i roll over, my legs still hurting from last night. i sit up, “nick” i tap him, he shoots up in bed.
“jesus!” i laugh, “how the fuck did you get up that fast- were you awake??”
nick erupts into laughter, “you scared me that’s all!” he says, i scoff before standing up out of bed, nick follows behind me as i open the door to his room.
i walk into the kitchen where chris and matt already are, leaning on the kitchen counter.
“good morning!” i say, matt shoots me a stupid smile “guess what.” chris says blankly, my heart drops, did he hear matt and i last night?
“what.” i instantly reply, looking over at matt who looks equally as nervous as me.
he walks over to the stovetop where the tray of ‘cookies were’ he picks them up and walks over to nick, matt and i.
“oh yeah- you dumbfucks left ‘em in the oven so i took them out.”
“what. the. FUCK is that” nick laughs, backing away from the burnt excuses of cookies.
“are they edible still?” chris genuinely asks, looking over at me for an awnser.
“chris what do you think.”
——————-
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starlost97 · 3 months
Text
— prettiest.
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summary: With Charles questionable dating history, you didn't want to risk getting into a relationship with someone with that reputation. He was, however, determined to change your mind. And when you did, he couldn't be happier.
keywords: fluff, Charles Leclerc is a simp, f!reader.
characters: Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz Jr. (mentioned).
warnings: swearing.
a/n: pathetic men begging for a chance? yes please. also love u charles but u would never see a glimpse of any of my female friends <3 anyways don't take it too seriously! enjoy :)
word count: 461.
requested?: yes! by a friend.
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The world is a cruel place.
Charles, however, was the only one to blame in this situation.
He was also the only one that could fix it.
When you told him that despite your feelings for him, you wouldn’t date someone with such a questionable dating history, the driver was extremely sad. Everyone heard the jokes about how you can’t introduce your female friends to Charles, so why would you risk getting in a relationship with someone with that kind of reputation?
Well, the monegasque made sure to show you everything he had to offer.
Liking all your instagram photos, commenting on them — and making all their fans go wild in the process —, shamelessly staring at you — although that wasn’t really on purpose — when you appeared on screen. The world knew how obsessed he was with you.
He stopped going to parties. He only went to them when he knew you were there, and that was clear.
Charles didn't ask you out again for a long time, though. As if he had a plan to complete before allowing himself to bother you again.
But God, he was terrible at hiding how badly he wanted to take you out. To treat you just like you deserved. To turn all his adoration into worship.
He did last surprisingly long, however. It wasn't hard to exceed the expectations when they were that low. Even Carlos thought that he would last two days without telling you how much he loved you.
Well, he lasted four. And he was very proud of it.
“You're so beautiful.” He mumbled, staring adoringly at you. “Such a shame I didn't win you yet.”
“Yet?” You asked, smiling. “So full of confidence, aren't you?”
“How could I not be? I just made the prettiest girl in the world smile.” Charles said, stroking your cheek. “Come on, give me a chance. I'm starting to get desperate.”
“Sorry, starting?” You breathed out, starting to laugh.
“Alright, you got me. I'm desperate already. Hopelessly desperate.” Charles said, feeling butterflies only with your laugh.
You two stared at each other's eyes for some time, sharing adoration.
“You better not make me regret this, Leclerc.” You mumbled, getting up from the couch and walking away.
Charles was quick to grab your hand and pull you to himself. Your faces were now close to each other, and you could feel his quick heartbeat against your chest.
“I swear that you won't.” He said, closing the gap between you and kissing your lips, feeling as relief filled him. “Fuck, how can your kiss be so sweet?”
He stared at you in disbelief. He indeed just kissed perfection, didn't he?
“I might have to kiss you again and again to find out, pretty girl.”
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tetsumie · 1 year
Text
"𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘"
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read part 2 here!
pairing: tsukishima x reader & suna x reader
genre: hurt/comfort
a/n: sorry i got carried away writing these ahh i sort of twisted the prompt of "when they call you clingy" into my own sort of thing idk how to explain but hopefully this turned out well :,) also not proofread so sorry about the mistakes! and as always feel free to send me requests and tell me ur thoughts on my writing!
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tsukishima kei
tsukishima, you, and a few of the former karsuno volleyball players decided to have a small little reunion dinner after not seeing each other for so long.
everyone's embracing each other with hugs and to be frank, it's really nice of him to invite you to meet his friends from high school! you're really looking forward to getting to know them and maybe even getting to know your boyfriend a bit more.
as all of you are sitting at the table debating what to order, there's much chit chat between everyone and you swear you haven't seen kei so carefree in a while. sure, he's still throwing his sarcastic, snarky comments but they don't hit too harshly towards his teammates.
they are most definitely used to this.
the food has arrived and way too much wine has been ordered. with their slurred words and pink cheeks, you can tell all of them are going to blackout the moment they all get home.
"kei, so how'd you pull this gorgeous girl?" tanaka asks out of nowhere "ain't no way she fell for your snarky ass personality."
you and him both let out a chuckle and he replied with, "nah, they're just clingy as fuck and i guess they were fun to keep around."
you go quiet and the laughter has sort of died out. but the drinks keep pouring and nishinoya speaks.
"god, you're a fucking asshole," nishinoya chimes. "she's way too good for you.
although the conversation begins to take a turn in a different direction, you can't seem to get his words out of your mind.
clingy. he thinks i'm clingy.
a ball of insecurity starts to form in your stomach and his comment starts the train of overthinking. you keep telling yourself that he's had too many drinks.
yet a part of you is telling you that drunk thoughts are sober words.
how long has he thought of me as "clingy?"
the small chuckles and laughs that escape your lips have come to a halt and now you're feeling incredibly insecure. you begin to zone out and start chugging down a few glasses of wine to drown out your surroundings.
after a few eventful hours, you and tsukishima decide to grab a taxi and head home for the night. he unlocks the door to your shared apartment and you immediately head into the bedroom to change your clothes, not sparing him a second glance.
tsukishima enters the bed after cleaning up and his arm drapes over your chest. your body goes completely stiff and you're super uncomfortable with his touch, especially after his comment about you being clingy.
the moment you hear his light snores, you slowly remove his arm off your body and turn to face away from him. a feeling of numbness begins to overtake your body and you feel a sense of emptiness within.
the next morning, tsukishima woke up with a horrible headache and he instantly regretted drinking so much last night. he groans and pats your side of the bed and is greeted by just the bedsheets and not you.
grumbling, he got out of bed in search of you and finds you standing by the balcony with a cup of coffee in your hand. in that moment, his heart skips a beat and he's reminded of how much he loves you.
you yelp in surprise when you feel two arms slither around your torso and his chin resting on your shoulder. "good morning baby," he kisses your cheek.
"hi kei," you say curtly.
"what's for breakfast?"
"i just made myself toasted bread with jam. you can just make some cereal or something. i think we still have your lucky charms in the pantry," you tell him.
he pulls away from you and he feels something is off with you. you feel distant.
the feeling is confirmed when the both of you are sitting on the living room sofa while watching the new episode of your favorite reality tv show. kei expects you to come close to him and rest your head on his shoulder like you usually do yet there you are, in his vicinity, but sitting on the other end of the couch, clinging to a throw pillow.
he can't seem to concentrate on the movie when the only thing he can see is you sitting to yourself, gone completely quiet. he doesn't know what's wrong and he can't rack his mind as to what might have happened that made you so distant.
after the movie ends, he kisses your forehead and he feels your body stiffen.
what's going on? i don't know what i did?
he pulls away and looks at you. "y/n, something's wrong," he states.
you refuse to meet his gaze now and your twiddling with your fingers. he seems to have no recollection of what he's said to you last night. although, he might not recall what he said, it's the only thing you can recall in your mind. ever since this morning, whenever, you look at him, the only thing running in your mind is his words, "nah, she's just clingy as fuck and i guess she was fun to keep around."
"we're good," you reply promptly. "don't worry about it."
he grabs your hands and puts them in his which catches you off guard. you love the feeling of his hand in yours but the rational part of your brain wants to pull away, thinking about how he thought you were so clingy.
"listen, i'm not good at this. i'm not good at communicating my feelings but for you, i want to do better. so please, it would mean a lot if you could tell me what's wrong so i can help you and... us."
this is the most genuine you've seen him in a while and although to most, it may have seemed like some half-assed speech but to you, it felt raw and vulnerable.
"ok well," you began. "last night, when we were out with your friends, you were talking with your friends and well, you mentioned something about me. and it made me wonder if you think i'm clingy?"
he was confused. "no, i don't think you're clingy anymore? i don't know what you're talking about?"
the "anymore" in his response to you was something that saddened you a little. he found me clingy yet never told me?
"so you did think i was clingy, right?"
with a deep breath, he began to explain himself, "when we got together, i wasn't really used to... being so close to someone. you would always hold my hand or loop your arm in mine or something. you would always be holding me or touching me and i wasn't sure how i felt it about it at first. i was never one for physical touch so when you began to show that to me, i just... it felt... suffocating."
you're looking into his eyes, swimming with sadness and searching for answers, and he feels a mixture of sadness and guilt as he continues to explain himself.
"but being with you, i've grown to love your touch and honestly, now that i think about it, i don't know what i'd do if you just stopped being yourself and clinging on to me. i would go insane if you stopped."
kei leans in for a hug and you hug him back. you missed holding him like this and well, you just miss him. but now that kei has said all this, you're not sure about anything anymore.
you pull away and tell him, "i'm sorry you couldn't tell me that you were uncomfortable with my touches. i should have asked you how fast or slow you wanted to go and i shouldn't have forced my affection on to you."
"if you want, we can slow down. i understand," you say with a tone of finality in your voice.
"no!" he immediately replied. "it's.. it's not that. you don't force your affection on to me. you never have. i just am awkward with affection and growing up, i've never had it so i'd get super fidgety and that's why i think i felt like you were being clingy. but i love it."
"i love it when you hold my hand when we're walking to the grocery store. i love it when you doodle on my hand with your fingers when we're waiting for the food to come when we eat out. i love it when you tell me about the little stories from work while you're cooking dinner. i love it when you mumble in your sleep and snuggle close to me when it gets cold at night. i love everything about you."
kei was very much out of his comfort zone as he told you all these things and it surprised you that he noticed all these little details. you could tell he was getting embarrassed, considering how his cheeks were turning pink. you couldn't help but let a little smile seep through your facial features.
"you're so sappy," you reply.
"oh shut up."
you both laugh and then he cups your cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb in circles. "don't ever think you force your affection on me because you never do, okay?"
"okay, kei."
the both of you spend the rest of the day with one another, making comforting memories together that the both of you will fondly remember in the future.
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suna rintaro
you're not even sure how this argument even started. all you can remember is asking suna if he could accompany you to a work party that you were invited to. it was supposed to be a relatively relaxing event with not too much worries yet suna was once again trying to bail out.
"come on rin! it's one party and we never get to go out anymore," you try again for the nth time.
"y/n, jesus, i told you this, i don't want to fucking go! practice is draining me out and the one day i get off, you want me to go to some stupid fucking work party. can't you see that i want to be home?"
"we won't even have to be there that long! i just want you to come with me so you can meet some of my friends and support me. i'm really not asking for much," you counter. "i'm always trying to go to your games to support you from the stands and i'm asking you to do this one thing for me."
"i never fucking asked you to come to my games!" suna's voice began to rise and you felt yourself shrink. you had never seen him so intensely angry before. he was always so nonchalant so seeing this side of him made you nervous. "god, you're just so suffocating with everything. you always wanna do shit together, like jeez, give me a break. you're so fucking clingy sometimes; i just want space."
your mouth snaps shut and you can't find it in yourself to even reply. suna leaves the bedroom and you can head the jangle of his keys and the front door opens and then slams shut. a tear escapes from one eye and then all of a sudden, it's a full blown mental breakdown. you're sitting on the bed, crying off all your makeup.
after your cries turn into sniffles, you call up one of your colleagues, telling them you won't be attending the party. that night, you end up crying yourself to sleep.
suna had come home quite late that night after storming out.
in his head, he admits that the argument had blown up for no reason. but he just really didn't want to see your coworkers. he was cranky, annoyed, and irritated, making him deeply irrational.
as he walks into the bedroom, he sees you fast asleep in your clothes that you were planning to go out in and your makeup smudged all over your face. he felt incredibly guilty.
he messed up big time and he had to fix this. he hoped in the morning, the both of you would wake up together so he could talk it out and apologize.
you wake up the next morning feeling a lot better than last night. you turn to see suna lying in bed and a part of you just wants to run your fingers through your hair. as your fingers hover above his head, you're reminded of his words from last night.
you're so fucking clingy sometimes. i just want space.
your fingers immediately retracted and you decided to get up to start the rest of your day. you didn't want to let his words get to you. he said his opinion and there's nothing much you could do other than give him space. you'd be doing him a favor by giving him that space that he wanted, right?
suna shifts in bed, arm reaching out to your side of the bed, subconsciously. as he pats down your side of the bed, he feels the emptiness and he jolts up out of bed.
he's walking out of the bedroom and he sees you sitting on the couch, watching something on the television.
a sigh of relief escapes his mouth, thanking whatever deity out there that you hadn't left. even if you did, he couldn't blame you for it. he hurt you and there was no denying that.
"hi babe," he casually says alouds and plops on the couch next to you.
"hey."
your tone is cold and to be frank, you could care less than speak to him right now. seeing him is just a constant reminder of how clingy you are and you really don't want to be confronted with the feeling of sadness again.
in an attempt to smooth things over with you, he tries to start conversation in hopes that things will get back to normal naturally and maybe.. just maybe you'll know that he's sorry without him saying it.
"osamu was talking about some new onigiri thing he made and he wanted to drop some off for us to try. should i say yes?" he asked.
"sure."
your responses to his efforts are completely shut down and he's just praying that things get better with time. he reassures himself that things will go back to normal, it's just a matter of time. within a few days, things will be back to normal!
that's what he thought until his first volleyball match of the season came about. as he was standing in the court, his eyes scanned the rest of the stadium for your figure in hopes of finding you wearing his jersey but to no avail, he couldn't find you.
he assumed you were running late or stuck in traffic. no matter what you would be here, right?
but the first set is already over and you're nowhere to be seen. taking a quick break, he texts you:
suna: r u here?
suna: i don't see u in the stands.
it's delivered and suna's back in the court. he's misreading all of the opponent's attacks and his blocks are all being haphazardly done. the only thing on his mind is you.
the EJP coach calls for a timeout and sits him out for the rest of the match. "i don't know what's going on with you but you need to pull it together. your slacking is messing up with the rest of the team," coach berated him and all suna could do was nod his head.
he sat on the bench and immediately grabs his phone to text you.
suna: can you please answer?
suna: or call me? please?
suna: fuck y/n
suna: r u ok?
with no response, concern is etched onto his face. he tells his coach that he has to go and although he's about to suffer hell when he goes to practice tomorrow for dipping, he needs to see you.
you're seeing all of his messages.
you've seen all of them.
and you don't want to respond to a single one of them.
you know he's coming home and he's about to bombard you with questions and you don't want to respond to him. you don't want to come off as clingy again.
you hear the jangle of the keys and prepare yourself.
he opens the door and finds you in the kitchen, making yourself some snacks.
"so where were you today?" he begins.
"at home."
his hands find their way to your waist and he slowly turns you around to look him in the eye. "why didn't you come?"
you sigh in frustration. "i don't know what you want from me. you say i'm clingy and you want some space and on top of that you mentioned how you've never asked me to go to any of your games so here i am respecting your wishes like you asked yet you have the fucking audacity to ask me where i was and why i wasn't with you?"
his hands let go of your waist and he steps back to fully look at you.
"rin, i don't know what you want from me anymore."
suna's mouth opens and then shuts, not sure as to what to say to you. you were more upset about his comment than you let on and now all your anger and frustration was coming out.
"listen, i-"
"no, you listen to me," you interrupt, immediately shutting him up. "all i wanted that night was for you to come to my work party. it's all i wanted. that party was mainly for me because i helped our company reach this new milestone! and i wanted you to come and celebrate with me and my colleagues. is it so much to ask for my boyfriend to come support me?"
"and then you go on to say i'm clingy and do you have any idea how much it hurt me when you said that? when you would talk to me about anything, the only thing going through my head would be the fact that you called me clingy and god, i just wanted to vanish in thin air because i hated knowing that you thought that of me which is why i gave you your space. i kept thinking you just didn't want my affection."
you rest your elbows on the kitchen countertop and put your face in your hands. you finally burst out with all the feelings that have been suffocating your mind. it felt good to finally relieve it all but you could only imagine what was going through his mind. was he mad or upset or did he just not care about my feelings?
all of a sudden, you feel two arms wrap around your torso and kisses to the top of your head.
"love, you're not clingy. if anything, i'm the clingy one. i always want you by my side like at my games or when i go out with my friends or even if i'm just lying in bed. i want you."
he strokes your hair and now you're turning around to look at him again. his eyes are wide and a bit glassy. this is probably one of the first times you've seen emotion on his face aside from his regular snarky remarks.
"i wish i could take back what i said that night but i can't. but please know that i don't know what i'd do without you. i was really upset that night and all i wanted to was just sleep it off. but your insistence to go got me aggravated and i lashed out. you don't deserve that. you never deserve that."
"i want to be the one you wake up to in the morning. i want to be the one you take to all your work parties and events. i want to be the one you tell you gossip with. i want to be the one you have your late night talks with. i want to be the one you end your nights with. i want to be the one you spend the rest of your life with. i want to be yours."
tears started to escape your eyes and your heart was swollen. suna was never one to be so open with his emotions yet here he was opening so much to you. you hug his torso and sob into his chest.
"i love you, i'm sorry," you say.
"i love you too, and i'm sorry too," he replies, kissing the top of your forehead.
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© tetsumie 2023 all rights reserved 
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10K notes · View notes
simp4wom3n · 3 months
Text
Why Don't I Know You?
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Requested: Yes/No ~ How about Regina having a crush on the reader but not saying anything bc she thinks the reader won't like her, but when the reader starts talking to her and everything, Regina is suddenly possessive ykwis
Pairing: Regina George x Reader
Summary: Shocked when a face she doesn't recognise shows up in her class, Regina makes it her goal to learn everything about them, even if it leads to her gaining a massive crush. ~ Word Count: 4.1k ~ Warnings: lotta swearing, one slur, otherwise mainly fluff
A/N: HI!!! FIRST RENEE/REGINA FIC!!! she is criminally underwritten, so I thought I would do my part (other people pls do right for her I need stuff to read). I love her so so much, and I had a blast writing this, so pls enjoy <3 + I will be creating a Renee rapp taglist so comment or message me if you wanna be on it :)
The halls of North Shore High were like a second home to Regina. Some would call it her hunting ground. Each year, she relished her opportunity to prowl the hallways, hunting the new freshman as she committed every new face and name to mind, with the intention of digging up all the dirt she possibly could. With thanks to Gretchen, she knew everything about everyone.
But then there was you.
"Alright, we have a new student joining us today."
Regina's eyes widened in pure shock as you walked into the room. With your bag casually slung over your shoulder, you make a beeline for the empty tables surrounding Regina. Ignoring the intensity of her gaze, you drop your bag and settle into the chair next to her. The faint strains of music emanated from the headphones hanging from your ears as you began organizing your belongings, only to be interrupted by the teacher.
"Y/n, if you could please stand and introduce yourself."
Your eyes flicked nervously towards the teacher, and the entire class turned to look at you. The intensity of Regina's gaze made your cheeks glow with a faint red before you sighed dejectedly and reluctantly stood up, pulling out your headphones.
"Um... Hi, I'm Y/n... not really much else to say."
The teacher nodded at you before turning around to start the lesson. Watching as you sat down, Regina's focus shifted entirely to you.
She couldn't tell whether it was because she knew nothing about you, or that you were just so damn hot.
Maybe it was both.
As soon as the bell rang, signalling the end of the class, Regina wasted no time storming off to find Gretchen. Having watched you for the entirety of the class, she was desperate to find out everything about you.
Strutting through the packed hallway, everyone staring at her in fear, Regina locked onto her target as she came into her view. "Gretchen!" she called irritatedly. The small girl quickly turned around as her eyes widened in fear. "Tell me... How is it that I don't know anything about this new Junior, Y/n? Why wasn't I informed? I need all the details now!"
Gretchen, scrambling to keep up with Regina's relentless pace, stammered out an apology. "I-I'm sorry, Regina! I didn't even know they were coming."
"God, you are useless!"
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In only a week, not only had watching you become her routine, but she had even started to develop a crush on you, as painful as that was for her to admit.
She was supposed to be chased, not the one chasing.
Seeing you had become the favourite part of her day, even above having the whole school bow at her feet. She hadn't even talked to you. She just watched.
She meticulously studied your every move, subconsciously committing all of your subtle mannerisms to memory. Like the way you would take notes, or the way you would nibble at your fingers when you were focused. Or her personal favourite, when you knawed at the end of your pencil when you were nervous or stressed.
Fuck, she wishes she was that pencil.
She hated to admit it, but the thought of talking to you terrified her. Her usually overbearing confidence drained away whenever you sat in the chair next to her, your mysterious yet comforting presence causing her to malfunction.
And yet, as she sat at lunch with Gretchen and Karen, she refused to mutter a word about you to them. The furthest they pushed was when Gretchen asked about you after catching Regina staring at you, and the look Regina gave the poor girl made her shut up immediately.
The lunch tables were packed as usual, but Regina's eyes scanned the hallway beside them. She was well aware that you never sat at any of the tables, so she patiently waited for you to return to your locker, which was conveniently placed within sight of her table.
Karen and Gretchen's incessant babbling went unnoticed as you finally appeared. She couldn't help but notice your slouched posture and sluggish movements. You looked exhausted. Your headphones, which you always had on you, dangled from one ear as you forcefully opened your locker.
As if she wasn't already concerned, the table of varsity jocks had also noticed you, taking your clearly irritated mood as a green light to push even more of your buttons. From across the room, Regina watched with a clenched jaw as three of them stood from the table and made their way towards you.
Her body ached with anger as she watched them grab you by the shoulder and throw you against the lockers. Your exhausted expression turned to one of fear as they held you up against the cold metal doors. The guy forcefully snatched your headphones away, callously tossing them to the ground and obliterating them with a single forceful step.
Regina choked on a gasp. She knew how much you loved those headphones.
She was annoyingly out of earshot as she watched them continue to laugh at and berate you whilst shaking you against the lockers. Her blood was boiling. The others had noticed her expression and cast confused glances towards the commotion, which only confused them more.
The Regina they knew would be laughing.
After Regina's next victims finally let you go, your body shook as you realised that the whole school had just watched you get shamelessly belittled. As soon as your gaze locked with Regina's, your embarrassment grew unbearable, triggering you to hastily get your belongings before moving to make a swift escape.
The last Regina saw of you, you were frantically running away, desperately trying to hide your state as tears streamed down your face.
Those jocks had no idea what was coming for them.
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The next time she laid eyes on you was the week after. She had already exacted her revenge on the jocks, having called their parents and telling them they all had STDs, yet when she caught sight of your weary expression as you entered the classroom, the familiar sense of triumph eluded her.
As the lesson passed and the teacher blabbered about a new group project, Regina's eyes never left you as you buried yourself in your notebook.
"Ok, listening, please." the teacher announced, garnering both of your attention. "The groups are as follows," you patiently waited for your name to be read out so you could go back to absentmindedly doodling in the margins of your book, whilst Regina similarly waited to hear the name of the poor soul who would be stuck with her. Yet, to her surprise, she wasn't disgusted by the name read beside hers.
"Y/n and Regina,"
With eyes wide and fixed on the teacher, Regina failed to notice the sudden blush that crept onto your cheeks, causing you to quickly lower your head. "You have the rest of the lesson to plan." the teacher mumbled before returning to their desk, where they sat silently.
Neither of you moved. After a second of secretly hoping Regina would make her move, you figured she wasn't interested in you or the project. Opening your computer and immediately diving into research, Regina sat at her desk, trying to build the courage to talk to you.
God, she hated being a coward.
After a few minutes and a few internal pep talks, she decided to take her one excuse to talk to you as she finally scooted her desk towards yours and turned to face you. As she inched closer, your heart began to race, sensing her gaze fixed on you. With a bashful smile, you diverted your attention from your screen and finally made eye contact with her.
She was breathtaking.
Clearing your throat, you quickly turned back to your computer as you scratched the back of your neck. "I-I'll just do it all when I get home," you spoke nervously, presuming THE Regina George would want nothing to do with you or the project.
"What makes you think I'd make you do it alone," she retorts, her tone more flirtatious than she had intended, but she wasn't mad about it. You looked back at her, lost for words for a second as you tried to scramble together a response.
"Well... I-I just presumed you wouldn't want to help." A small smile formed on her lips as you briefly glanced at her, "I mean, you hardly pay attention, so I just... figured." She softly giggles at your words, her laughter sending a flutter of excitement through your body.
Little did you know she was distracted by you.
"Come to mine later. We can do it together." Regina's unexpected display of confidence caught both of you off guard as her usual flirtatious demeanour made a comeback. Meanwhile, you stared at her in disbelief, trying to process what had just happened. "Ugh... Yeah, sure, if that's ok?"
"I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't"
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As the school bell rang through the corridors, you were overwhelmed with both relief and anxiety. After enduring a tedious day at school, you were now faced with the terrifying task of not only talking to Regina but also spending hours alone with her at her house.
Walking out the doors and towards the car park, the sound of the bustling school fading into the background, your eyes catch a familiar blonde leaning up against her Jeep. Your heart began to race faster as you approached her, your bag feeling heavier with each step.
Her expression softened as she noticed you approaching, a warm smile gracing her lips, and she pushed herself off her car. "Hey," she greets softly, a soft shade of pink painting her cheeks as you both smile at each other. "Hi," you said breathlessly with a small chuckle.
Without another word, Regina moves to get in, and you follow suit, chucking your bag into the backseat next to hers before climbing into the passenger seat.
The breeze gently tousled your hair as you drove to her house, the soothing tunes of music filling the air, matching the nervous excitement between you both. Your heart beat along with the music as you snuck glances at the girl sitting next to you. With her eyes focused on the road and the wind softly brushing her skin, you were utterly mesmerised by her.
Of course, you had heard of Regina George's horror stories, but this girl was different.
Sure, you hadn't spoken till this morning, but there was something about her you couldn't quite describe. Something that brought you to school every day, comforting you as you sat in undoubtedly one of the most boring classes, and that gave life at North Shore High purpose.
Frankly, you rejected any idea of her being a heartless bitch.
When you eventually turned into her driveway, your gaze was forced away from her as you caught sight of her house, or should you say mansion. The house was almost cinematic in grandeur, your eyes growing wider by the second as you drove closer before eventually stopping at the door.
"Wow," you mumbled under your breath as you exited her car, your eyes not leaving the building as you reached for your bag. You heard Regina chuckle lightly as she led the way to her door. "My mum's not home, thank god, so we have the place to ourselves."
You nod mindlessly as you follow her through the front door. As you trailed behind her, the pristine marble floors beneath your feet echoed with each step, a stark contrast to the scuffed linoleum of the school corridors.
Just when you thought you had gotten used to it, Regina led you to her room. Stepping inside, you find yourself mesmerised by everything around you. "This is your bedroom?" you asked, clearly taken aback. Regina glanced back at you, a shy smile on her face.
"Yeah, It was my parents, but I asked them to trade me." "Right...". You couldn't help but be captivated by the array of decorations adorning the walls, taking in the posters and photos that offered a rare glimpse into her life beyond her reign as the queen of North Shore.
Sitting on her bed and removing her shoes, she motions for you to do the same. Dropping your bag next to her massive bed and grabbing everything you need, you carefully sit down next to her, leaving enough room between the two of you so you don't seem invasive.
Opening your laptop and notebook, you place them on the bed as you pull up the project materials. You can feel Regina's gaze on you even though she's trying to be subtle, and the thought instantly makes your cheeks glow softly.
"So, uh, where do you want to start?"
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The next few hours flew by as you worked on the project together. Regina was surprisingly helpful, the two of you moving closer as your work drew to a close. Now that the project was over, the familiar awkwardness lingered in the air as you searched for something to talk about that wouldn't embarrass you.
"You're really good at drawing, you know." Regina compliments softly, pointing at your notebook margins before you can say anything as you blush at her words. "Thanks... I've been doing it more since-" "Your headphones broke." Regina cuts you off as you look at her surprised.
"Yeah... How did you know that?" It was Regina's turn to blush as she realised that she had just revealed herself. Stammering to find an excuse, she looks away for a second, embarrassed. "I-I'm just a very observant person."
You look at her suspiciously with a small smile gracing your lips, the thought of Regina watching you making your heart flutter.
"You're different." you find yourself blurting out, "from how everyone else describes you, I mean." you finish quickly. Regina chuckles as she smiles at you softly. "You're different too. Good different. I like it."
The tension between you grew as you stared into each other's eyes. A softness behind her pale blue eyes drew you in, and before you knew it, you were slowly leaning in. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you caught Regina glancing down at your lips, her own caught between her teeth as your faces grew closer.
"Regina, honey!" You scramble backwards as Regina's bedroom door flies open, revealing who you believe to be her mum. "Oh. Hi there!" "Mum, seriously!?" Regina yells in disbelief. Your ears begin to ring as your head pounds, thinking about what would have happened if you had not been interrupted.
"I'm sorry, honey, I didn't realise you had anyone over." While Regina's mother was apologising, you could hear Regina sighing in frustration next to you. "I'll just go to the kitchen." Her mum suggests as she begins to leave the room, but you beat her to it. "No, Ms George, it's okay. I was on my way out anyway." You offer her a smile you hope appears as genuine as you quickly throw everything into your bag.
Trying to ignore Regina's pained gaze, you threw your bag over your shoulder, grabbed your shoes, and quickly exited her bedroom, making your way out the front door. You had no plan on how to get home, but you would rather walk than have to sit in that room after what had happened.
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Walking into school the next day was like walking straight into a nightmare. You already weren't fond of the school, having been called slurs and made fun of constantly, but adding to that, your usual excitement of seeing Regina had been replaced with pure fear.
In just one night, you managed to spin every interaction you ever had with the girl, leaving you incredibly embarrassed about how you had let it all happen. Who were you to think Regina might actually like you? You were probably just a pawn in some big game.
Unlocking your locker and throwing it open, already fed up with the day before it had even begun, you began to unpack your stuff, completely ignorant of the approaching jock.
Walking into school with a similarly distraught look, Regina's mind was stuck reeling over the events from last night. The question of why you ran away was all she could think about until she heard a sharp bang.
Before you could react, you were once again thrown against the lockers, an irritated grunt leaving your lips. Your eyes met the same bastard who had made bullying you their new hobby. "Back for more, dyke?" he taunted you, your fists clenching involuntarily as you awaited the verbal abuse he was undoubtedly about to unleash on you.
Regina's head immediately whipped in its direction, a new sense of anger rushing through her body as she saw your saddened figure being pinned up against the lockers. Without hesitation, she storms towards the jock holding you against the wall with a fire burning behind her eyes.
"Fuck off, asshole!"
The boy's expression quickly shifted, causing him to release his grip on you and hastily retreat in terror. You sighed in relief as you observed Regina approaching you, her face contorted with unmistakable rage.
You found it quite amusing how scary everyone found her, causing the boy who had just been full of confidence to shrink into insignificance, like a tiny ant that she was about to step on.
"Look in her direction again, and it won't just be STDs next time."
The boy's face flashed in realisation before hurriedly scrambling off. All eyes were fixed on you as Regina directed her gaze towards you, her expression instantly softening with a hint of concern in her eyes. "Are you ok?" you managed a nod as the softness of her voice filled you with a comforting warmth.
"Yeah… Thanks," you replied softly, your familiar awkward energy filling the air. She watched you momentarily as you remained silent, hopeful that you would acknowledge her. Yet, as you continued to avert your gaze away from her, she gave you a soft nod before turning to leave. Her stomach sank as the failing state of your relationship grew more and more obvious.
With an unfamiliar burn of tears behind her eyes, her pace quickened as she tried to get as far away from you as she possibly could.
But you stopped her.
"Regina, wait!"
Looking over her shoulder and meeting your sorry gaze, her heart can't help but flutter as she watches you slowly jog after her. "Sorry, I-" you hesitated, feeling a surge of nerves as you came the closest you had been to Regina since yesterday. "Did you want to maybe... hang out at yours after school again?"
"Didn't we finish the project?" She seems confused, completely missing that you wanted to spend time together outside what was needed. "No, we did. I just thought we could, you know, just watch a movie or something, but if you're not into that-"
"I would love to." She interrupts your anxious babbling with a gentle laugh, her gaze filled with admiration as you stare at her in a state of surprise and joy. "Meet me at the same place, ok?" "Yeah". Regina walks away from you with a smirk as you stand there frozen.
Holy shit, you just asked Regina George out.
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The trip to Regina's after the bell finally rang was much like the day before.
She waited for you by her car, dismissing her other friends when she spotted you. Greeting each other warmly before jumping in the car, you once again listened to music whilst the wind swept through your hair, a nervous yet warm sense of anticipation falling between you.
Pulling up to her house, which you were still in awe of, you jumped out of the car and walked towards the front door behind Regina. "This time, my mum actually isn't home and won't be. I made sure of it. So we really do have the place all to ourselves."
You both laughed at her words as a small blush crept onto your cheeks. You walked behind Regina as she entered her bedroom, studying the now familiar walls as she set up everything you needed to watch a movie.
After sitting on her bed with the TV switched on and Netflix loaded up, you still remained standing in her doorway, nibbling on your pencil, which you always kept stowed away in your pocket, causing her to glance at you with a puzzled expression. "You seem distracted. Everything okay?" she asked, her voice soft yet discerning.
Snapping back into reality, offering her a sheepish smile, you replied, "Yeah, just lost in thought, I guess." taking the pencil from your lips, you slowly moved towards her bed, your eyes subconsciously scanning every inch of her body, your mind going wild seeing her so comfortable.
Her gaze fixated on you, her piercing blue eyes captivating in the sunlight pouring through the window. She laughed softly, the sound filling the room with a pleasant melody. "Lost in thought or thoughts of me?"
The comment caught you off guard, and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I… um, what makes you say that?". Regina, who reclined into her bed, gestured towards your hand, occupied by a chewed-up pencil.
"You always chew on that when you're nervous," she spoke softly. Your eyes widened in astonishment as the familiar burn returned to your cheeks. "How do you know that?" She smirked, "I notice everything." Regina's gaze never wavered as she continued watching you, a playful glint in her eyes.
"So, what's got you so nervous, Y/n?"
You felt a lump form in your throat as Regina's question hung in the air, filling the lavish room with tension. You couldn't help but fidget with your pencil, trying to find the right words to capture the overwhelming mix of emotions that Regina's presence constantly stirred within you.
"I, uh… it's just… everything, I guess. School, people, this…" You gestured vaguely between the two of you, unable to articulate the chaotic mess of feelings inside. Regina leaned up, her voice softening. "Well, you don't have to be nervous around me." Her eyes locked onto yours, a sincerity beneath the confident facade. "Now sit."
Slipping your shoes off and sitting on the bed, you move closer to Regina, who is lying against her pillows, her gaze unwavering. Eventually settling next to her, you turn to look at her, your heart fluttering as her soft eyes meet yours.
The room seemed to buzz with an unspoken energy, and all you could hear was the sound of your shared breaths. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, watching Regina's eyes analyse your face. A blush painted her cheeks, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.
Regina seemed hesitant, her mouth opening as if searching for the right words. "You know, I've been infatuated with you ever since you first walked into class." Your heart did a somersault at her words. A dreamy smile spread across your face, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of joy and disbelief.
"Regina George. Infatuated with me?" you teased playfully, her confession coursing adrenaline through your veins. With a gentle laugh, she hides her face briefly behind her hand before looking back at you, matching your wide smile.
"Shut up."
Leaning towards you, Regina's hands delicately wrapped around your neck, a slight shiver travelling down your spine. The room appeared to tighten as Regina held you, her touch confident and gentle. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyes never leaving Regina's as she closed the distance.
Time seemed to stand still as her lips met yours.
The touch of her lips against yours was gentle, her hands brushing your neck with a mix of desire and passion. Everything else faded away as you fell into the kiss.
Her breath mingled with yours, and you could feel the rapid beat of her heart echoing your own. The room seemed to buzz with an electrifying charge, and the only sounds that reached your ears were the shared breaths between you two.
As Regina pulled away, a shared moment of breathless silence hung in the air. Once buzzing with unspoken energy, the room was now filled with the soft sounds of your intertwined breaths. Regina's cheeks were tinted with a deeper blush, and a subtle smirk played on her lips.
Your mind still reeling from the feeling of her lips on hers, you speak with a breathless chuckle, "What's everyone else gonna think?". Regina smirked at your question, a glint of defiance in her eyes as she pulled you back in, mumbling her response on your lips.
"Let them talk."
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mockerycrow · 11 months
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Hello Dearest!
May I request König (I love this man) and the 141 squad (separately) where fem! reader catches them staring at her joocy ass as she's slightly bent over a table, translating some papers for them, and when she turns to see if they're listening she catches the way their eyes panic and look elsewhere.
Please my lord, I'm on my knees
-juvia
Fem!Reader Catches The 141 + König Looking At Her Ass
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cod masterlist
I’m having a 400 follower celebration!
A/N: i hope you enjoy!! also this gets a bit dirtier than i intended,,,,
You’re standing up with your hands on the table, slightly bent over it with your eyes scanning the documents in front of you. The words that flood these pages hold valuable information and it’s a language none of the main members of the 141 understand. Your their main translator for any documents and prisoners as you’ve studied and have become fluent in a variety of languages. Your eyebrows furrow as you lift one of your hands and move the document a bit to the side to reveal the one underneath it, and then that hand hovers over the laptop you have set aside to type up your translations. Your back is arched in such a way where your ass is slightly bending outwards. “Hey, where did you guys say you got these document from?— What Country?” You pick the document up that caught your eye and your eyes scan every word, muttering quiet translations. You notice he doesn’t say anything, causing you to look back at him. “Hey, are you listening?—“ Suddenly his head looks the other way with a clear of his throat and you’re left confused. Did this topic make him nervous? Did something happen when they got these documents for this reaction to occur?—and then it hits you. He was staring at your ass. “Were.. were you looking at my ass?”
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-> John Price
He clears his throat and his fingers go to his chin, rubbing at it nervously. Price hoped you didn’t notice him staring; he couldn’t help it. The way your back is arched just puts your ass on the most perfect display, and the way your pants are hugging your ass?? God, it’s like you wore them to kill him.
He can’t deny it, not when you so clearly caught him red handed. “Guilty.” He responds, his eyes darting anywhere but you. He’s being careful, as he knows this could very well go a way he didn’t want. “I’m sorry.”
Price has always noticed you around base, always thought it was a pleasure working with you. Your skills and talents in quick translation always impressed him. Your quips and your remarks have always intrigued him as well. It’d be a lie to say this is his first time staring.
“I don’t mind.”
He nearly asks you to repeat yourself but the glint in your eye, combined with your eyelash batting and the way you’re sticking your ass out even further, openly letting him take it in.
You then turn back around to your work, purposely bending your leg to stick your ass out into such a glorious pose, causing him to swear under his breath.
-> Kyle Garrick
He laughs with a nervous hue, his hands behind his back, one hand gripping the wrist of the other. Kyle can feel his heart pounding through the pulse on his wrist. His face feels hot from embarrassment as he clicks his tongue and rocks on the balls of his feet for a second, avoiding any eye contact with you. “Nope.”
You smirk because you know he was, you saw that split second of enthrallment, admiring the way your pants hug your ass, curving in on the underside, folding in such a perfect way, showing off how grabbable it is, how the meat of it would sink under his fingers. His face begins to heat up as his fingers twitch, the want to squeeze filling his gut.
“Mhm, sure.” You didn’t sound mad, in fact you sound.. amused. You turn back to your work, but not before pulling your pants up even further, digging into the crevices of your muscle. You pretend you don’t hear the quiet, shocked “damn” come from his lips for his own sanity.
-> John MacTavish
His cheeks are red while his hand scratches the back of his head, which he does when he’s embarrassed. Soap hesitantly looks at you again after a second of not responding. You look back at him with a smirk curled on your face, tilting your head as you oh so innocently change poses by leaning your back more into a down position, arching your back ever so slightly more than before.
Okay, now he was definitely obvious with his staring. Soap has to admit that he’s glanced once or twice before, but he never stared when he thought there was a chance where he could get caught.
You hum and turn back to the documents below you, and Soap thought that was that for a moment—oh, how he was wrong. You begin to talk.
“I know you were,” You quip. “How long?” He jolts ever so slightly, offering a nervous chuckle. You note his accent seems to thicken and drip from his voice like thick honey now. “What d’ya mean?” You look at him with a raised brow, and he gives you a smile that shows his gums. You roll your eyes playfully.
“Y’know, if you just admitted it, I would’ve let you touch.” Wait, what?
-> Ghost
He weighs his options and lets out a heavy sigh with an admission of guilt which you grin at; it’s not easy to get Ghost to admit to something like this. Admit to a mistake made on the field, sure, no problem, he’ll take full ownership but fuck, this is different.
You tread carefully, but you bite your lip, keeping your eyes on his. You notice the way his eyes are slightly wider than normal and he’s looking away; you guarantee that he’s blushing under that black grease and dark skull mask and you love how nervous he seems.
“It’s alright to look.” You murmur, and you turn your head back to the papers in front of you. As soon as he knows you look away, he looks back at you, and more specifically your ass. “I know these pants are tight, hm?” You can’t help but tease him about it, bending your spine so your ass is out more. “I beg your pardon?” His words are slow and connected in a swift sentence, his voice slightly tight.
You don’t respond verbally, but you shoot him a look over your shoulder that says it all, and he returns a lidded look that involuntarily pulls a grin from your lips.
-> König
“I apologize..!” He blurts out as he looks away, his fingers intertwining nervously. He did not mean to stare, really, but your pants are so tight and he’s usually really respectful and he doesn’t usually stare, and he can usually keep his eyes from wandering—
You tilt your head as you notice the man just lock up in place and you can’t help but bark out a laugh, causing him to glance at you before glancing away, pure shame radiating off of him. “König, it’s fine, I don’t care,” You begin, the corner of your lip lifting in amusement.
König keeps his eyes off of you even after you say you don’t mind as he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but that doesn’t stop his mind from wandering. He wondered if those pants fit you that tight everywhere? Did you own any pants that fit you tighter?
His eyes do end up on your ass again as he wonders if you own any tight leggings, the type that are sheer and and hug your legs and waist tight. The type that leave little to the imagination as it hugs the swell of your ass and the roundness of your cunt—
“König.” “Es tut mir Leid!!”
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mybelovedrin · 11 months
Text
✷ ITOSHI RIN x reader. fluff, established relationship. reader talks a lot and rin listens. this is actually pointless. warnings: the writing is kinda messy, i think. note: i just really think that rin <3 ! sorry if there's typos.
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"shut up."
rin probably says these two words to you more than he says 'i love you'.
yet, he really, really does not want you to shut up.
it's been twenty minutes since you came from your dinner with your friend. twenty whole minutes of you rambling. twenty whole minutes of rin lying in bed, his arms feeling empty since you're too busy turned away from him as you change into more comfortable clothes. twenty whole minutes of him having to listen to your friend's husband's family's problems while his eyes stay locked on you as you throw on one of his shirts and then start removing your make up.
and again, he really, really does not want you to shut up.
but he would really prefer holding you while you ramble, and the fact that it's been twenty minutes and he hasn't even gotten a kiss yet is kind of starting to get to him.
"so anyway, she's basically hated by everyone from his side of the family— and i told her over and over that she should talk to him about it, but she just won't listen to me. god, why am i blessed with such stubborn friends?"
at this point, he feels like he's skipped eight chapters.
and yet he still listens, humming thoughtfully as he shifts in bed a little, pulling the covers over him just a bit more as he sighs in defeat, staring up at the ceiling as he mumbles, giving his own opinion. "shouldn't pressure her into it, though."
you groan, giving him a look as you still stand in front of the mirror while doing your skincare now. "i'm not, i swear! those people suck. she shouldn't be letting them do what they want and i'm sure that her husband would do something if he knew how salty they are."
his eyes go from the ceiling to you, blinking sleepily as he stares at the way his shirt looks on you. "when are you coming to bed?"
"almost done, rinnie."
he yawns quietly, turning around so that his back is to you. if he couldn't hold you yet, he could at least listen to your voice. "then does she really plan to just endure that treatment?" his voice is muffled by the pillow as he asks, setting you off on another talking spree.
"i guess she does. i hope everything goes well for her. but personally, i would not tolerate stuff like that." you say, shrugging as you finally finish your business, before going into the bathroom to wash your hands and brush your teeth.
the few minutes of you being gone and quiet make rin feel as miserable as ever.
he waits and waits, eyelids heavy.
when the mattress finally dips next to him and he smells the familiar scent of your skin products, he swears he's never moved this fast to turn around in bed and latch onto you.
you chuckle as he buries his face into your neck, holding him close as your little giggle turns into a quiet laugh when he groans in annoyance. "you took too damn long."
his hair tickles the side of your face. it's getting longer, you realise as you play with it gently, smoothing over some soft strands on the back of his head while he sighs softly into your skin.
"i talked a lot earlier, didn't i?" you ask quietly, your lips curling into a sheepish smile.
rin stays quiet for some time, his arms around you tight and firm as he presses himself against your side, even going as far as to place his muscular leg over you, caging you in against the soft mattress of the bed. "y'know i don't mind that."
"yeah, but im sure there's a limit—"
"there's no limit when it comes to you. 'kay?" he says quietly, his voice groggy and deeper now as he gets closer to drifting off— almost as if he was ending that discussion right there, not wanting to hear you talking about yourself in such a way.
"yeah, but—"
"shut up." he cuts you off, and you stop talking, only to let out another soft laugh. "if you're gonna complain about yourself, that is. now, more sleeping and less talking. i'll listen to the remaining part of your friend's story during breakfast tomorrow."
you snort at his devotion to listening to your silly stories, a slight wave of warmth creeping up your neck. "fine."
he nods a little, before holding you tighter.
"and i didn't get a single kiss from you ever since you came, by the way."
"oh, i am so sorry. my most sincere apologies." you speak, clearly joking as you shower him with light pecks on the side of his face that's peeking out from the crook of your neck.
he grunts, not being able to hide the redness under his warm skin as he feels your soft lips. his eyes stay closed shut. "ok. good night."
"no 'i love you' or anything?"
he sighs heavily. "shut up."
"...and i love you." he adds, before letting himself relax into his sleep when you let out a satisfied sound and say it back to him sweetly, your soft voice partially responsible for putting him to sleep.
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bby-deerling · 14 days
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Please a Hc with Zoro, Kid and Law: how do they react when having a premature ejaculation? 💧💧💧💧🌊
i swear you are a mind reader sometimes because i've been thinking about this with law so you gave me the perfect excuse to write it
when they cum too soon (nsfw)
ft. zoro, kid, law
masterlist || commissions
cw: creampie (w/law and zoro), implied virgin law, established relationship, degradation (w/kid only), brat taming (w/kid only)
tagging: @willowbelle @queenmimi2817 @fanaticsnail @indydonuts @eelnoise @wrennyx @atanukileaf @zorolux
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zoro
"dammit—" zoro hisses, inhaling sharply as he feels himself spill into you. he hadn't meant to cum so soon and was used to lasting a lot longer, but he was so pent up after weeks of not seeing you while you were off saving the stupid cook that he finds himself cumming nearly as soon as he sheathes himself inside of you.
"'s alright—" you start to say, but he cuts you off, his voice laced with annoyance and irritation.
"it's not alright. i should have more self control than that." he sighs, jaw clenched as he stares down at you; he had wanted to make this special for you, especially after you and brook had walked in on hiyori sleeping on top of him. this was the time for zoro to prove his devotion to you, and in his eyes he had failed by losing his head so quickly instead of focusing on making you feel good.
"just keep going, zoro." you urge him with pleading eyes. he's so weak for that look in your eyes—the one that had gotten him into this situation in the first place. and so he does, dragging his second orgasm out for as long as he possibly can, making sure you're completely spent and drooling from both your mouth and your pussy before he allows himself to cum again.
kid
"god, what the fuck is wrong with you, making me cum so damn fast?" kid snarls, words broken up by gasps as he catches his breath. your skin is already covered in a rainbow of colors—red from his lipstick, purple and yellow from hickeys both new and old, and white from the ropes of cum he just painted your stomach with—but he can't help but wish he could've held out a bit longer, especially given how much he had talked himself up earlier.
undeterred by his frustration, you let out an amused huff. "you can always just fuck me again, y'know." you say, lips curled into a smug smirk as you watch him run his hands through his now drooping scarlet hair.
"of course i'm gonna fuck you again. maybe it'll finally shut up that bratty mouth of yours." he snaps, face turning as red as his hair; already half-hard, slamming his cock into your drooling pussy with no warning is all he needs to get himself back to full mast. the gasps and whimpers you let out make him regain all of his confidence and then some, and he has no problems telling you what a bratty little slut you are for giving into him so easily.
law
"fuck—i'm sorry, i didn't mean to cum inside you." law whispers in your ear, breath ragged after he inadvertently came deep inside of your pussy; he had told himself beforehand that he would pull out, but he wasn't prepared for how good you'd feel gripping his cock and before he knew it, he was choking back groans and burying his head in your shoulder as his twitching cock spilled into you.
you let out a dreamy sigh as you press a lazy kiss into his hair. "'s okay, it felt so good." you reassure him, tightening your hold around him and pulling him close. the two of you lay like that for a few moments until your breathing regulates, though you're a haywire mess as soon as he pushes himself up with one hand to hover over you, eyes full of an intense hunger that you were eager to satiate.
"i haven't had enough of you yet." he says lowly, softly dragging his thumb across your lower lip. you can't help the way his words make your face burn and the corners of your lips quirk upwards.
"me neither." you reply, and his mouth is back on yours in a second, hot needy, and wanting as his tongue slips into your mouth; hips gently rocking into yours as his cock stiffens inside of you once more, you hope he fills you up again—on purpose this time.
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