#my roommates should learn from him lol
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i’m right over here, why can’t you see me? (2)
// when ellie’s reaction to you and abby hooking up isn’t quite what you expected, she leads you right into abby’s open arms. //
[warnings: jealousy, pining, angst, slight arguing, angry!ellie, illusions to one-sided feelings, simp!abby, fuckgirl!ellie, sexual implications]
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this is pt.2 (pt.1 can be found here)
abby was always taught to be the bigger person. her father consistently reminded her that no matter how people treat her, she should always be the bigger person. that’s most of the reason why she’s so reserved and non-confrontational. when she first started university, she knew she didn’t quite fit in. unlike a vast majority of students around here, she wasn’t here for the “college” experience. she was just here to play soccer and get her degree in engineering. she also noticed you from the first day of freshman year, but she was way too shy to say hi to you. abby’s never really been good at flirting or starting conversation with new people. she often feels too awkward, or too intimidated to say anything.
manny took a liking to her right away; the school got his rooming situation mixed up, and that’s how he ended up being abby’s roommate. it was strange at first for her; she was wary about having a guy as a roommate. but she quickly learned manny was a cool guy. he was funny, and hung up pictures of him and his dad right away. abby could relate, as she was very close to her dad as well.
manny slowly seemed to get abby out of her shell, and would invite her to various functions and parties. but he quickly learned if it didn’t have anything to do with soccer, abby wasn’t really interested. even the girls who threw themselves at the dark haired blonde, would get shot down without abby even realizing she was rejecting them. you were ironically the first person abby found herself interested in. hell, after the party yesterday, abby was almost certain she was enthralled by you.
after walking you back to your dorm, you gave abby your number and hugged her tightly. abby walked all the way back to her shared room with a dorky grin on her face. she could still smell your girly perfume, and all she could think about was your pretty smile. a part of her wondered if you’d cave and call ellie, but when you texted her after she had gotten out of the shower, she knew you didn’t.
y/n (1:34 a.m): i can’t wait to see how she reacts tomorrow, thanks for helping me haha
y/n (1:35 a.m): and thank you for keeping me company tonight, i really liked getting to know you abby 🖤
the smile that tugged at her lips after reading your message was nearly unrecognizable. as she walked out of the bathroom with her eyes and thumbs on her phone screen, manny raises a brow in slight suspicion at the peculiar sight.
abby (1:42 a.m): i really liked getting to know you too, i hope we can get to know each other better :) i was serious about teaching you how to ride a horse lol
“that’s a face i’ve never seen before.” manny states observingly, causing abby to look away from her phone, over at her roommate who was flashing her an intrigued smile. a blush coats her freckled covered cheeks as she thinks about you and your smile. “you remember that girl from my women’s history class? y/n?” abby reminds her best friend, who throws his head back and lets out a bark of a laugh. “abby you jugadora (player)! i knew you’d get laid eventually.” he taunts causing the jock to roll her eyes. “i didn’t ‘get laid’, gross ass. i finally said more than five words to her. i got her number too.” abby smirks, and mischief glints in manny’s eyes. “so nora dragging you to that party was a good thing then?” he half taunts and abby’s phone chimes, signaling that you’ve texted her again; her face gets hot, and manny chuckles.
y/n (1:44 a.m): i’ll be waiting for you to set something up when we’re not tipsy then ;)
abby (1:46a.m): i don’t think you’ll be waiting for very long <3 goodnigjt y/n, sleep tight
y/n (1:47 a.m): goodnight abby 🖤
when you wake up the next morning, your head is throbbing, and thoughts of last night begin to flood your mind. suddenly you remember all about abby’s plan to make ellie jealous. you reach over for your phone and see you have a string of missed calls, and five texts from ellie. your heart thumps as you open the text thread with the brunette.
ellie (2:20 a.m): you home??
ellie (6:34 a.m): why didn’t you call me last night?
ellie (6:35 a.m): did you make it back to your room safely??
ellie (9:35 a.m): you going to class today?
ellie (11:47 a.m) did you really hookup with anderson last night? it’s all that nora chick and her friend are talking about rn.
your cheeks heat up as you read the last message; word certainly seems to move fast around here. before you can even think about a response to ellie’s various messages, your gaze wanders to the time. your eyes widen as you gasp, realizing you slept nearly half the day away; it was already 2:30 p.m and nobody except for abby knew you were alive. you scurry off your bed, and just as your about to grab your clothes and stuff to shower, dina comes barging into your shared dorm. “dude, is it true!? did you hookup with the captain of the soccer team last night!?” dina sounds excited, and your cheeks turn a dark shade of pink, causing her to gasp.
“you did! holy shit, y/n… i didn’t think you had it in you.” she comments, sounding a bit impressed. “what? you didn’t think i had enough rizz to pull abby anderson?” you question half jokingly, causing the raven haired girl to laugh loudly. “oh no, i’m well aware you can pull whoever you want, i just didn’t think you’d move on from ellie so fast! i didn’t even come home last night, i spent the night listening to ellie rant about you and abby hunky anderson.” dina teases you mercilessly, doing nothing to ease the way your face is burning.
the raven haired girls eyes then widen, shining with pure amusement. “did you two do it in here? on your bed!?” she cackles before whistling, “who are you?” dina asks half jokingly as she begins to walk over to her side of the room, reaching for her biology textbook. “you’re leaving again?” you ask out loud, and dina nods, turning her head and flashing you a roguish smile. “yup, i’m studying with jesse till five.” she admits, and you raise your brows, offering her a disbelieving expression. “studying or fucking?” you ask her, poking fun at the slightly taller girl. she rolls her eyes, but looks away from you in order to keep you from seeing the way her face changes in color. “unlike you, i am considerate of jesse’s roommate. we wait until he’s at work.” dina’s response causes you to laugh, shaking your head in amusement.
“whatever. i’m going to shower, and change into pajamas. maybe i’ll make myself a cup soup and watch reruns of buffy all evening.” you tell her, and dina snorts. “maybe you could call anderson to join you. i’m sure she’ll be up for round two.” dina’s voice is sardonic but dripping with lightheartedness. “who says we didn’t already have round two?” you inquire challengingly, causing dina to gasp as she reaches for a pillow on her bed, tossing it right at you. you laugh loudly, as you make your way towards the door with your pajamas and toothbrush in hands. right as you open the door to rush out, you come face to face with ellie who had been debating with herself on whether to knock or not.
her eyebrows meet her hairline as she sees you, your mascara from last night a mess, and your hairs a mess. there’s a wave of hot, red anger that surges throughout the brunette as she realizes you’ve been so busy with abby anderson, you haven’t been able to answer any of her messages, or even been able to wash your face. her eyes flicker over to your bed that’s a mess, and suddenly unwanted images of abby fucking you on your bed flood her mind.
“it’s nice to see you’re alive.” ellie grumbles a bit dramatically as she pushes her way into the room, causing dina to turn around and look at you. “you knew i was okay. i was with abby.” you respond, and the mere mention of the other girl seems to set ellie off. “no i didn’t know that y/n! i don’t know a fucking thing about abby! she could’ve been a weirdo who only wanted to take advantage of you—” you cut ellie off before she can say something stupid, “but she wasn’t! abby and i are both two consenting adults who hooked up, just like everyone else around here!” you snap a bit harshly, and the words feel like a slap to the face for ellie. “so the rumors are true? you and anderson hooked up last night?” ellie’s voice sounds hurt, and you can’t even recognize the expression that’s etched onto her features.
“uh, jesse’s waiting for me, so i’ll let you guys talk.” dina declares a bit awkwardly, she can feel the tension in the room, but she decides to stay out of it and walk away. before she walks out, the raven haired girl flashes you a look of reassurance. when she shuts the door behind her, you and ellie are left alone. you shake your head, “why do you sound so angry about it? you hookup with girls all the time!” you counterpoint, and ellie shakes her head. “but i never ditch you to do it!” she hisses, while you respond with an eye roll. “yes you do! ellie, you ditched me last night for angela! you do it at every party with different girls, but the one time i do it, it’s a problem?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.
“i was worried about you! i don’t care about your meaningless, shitty hookup with anderson.” ellie spits rudely, and you let out an angry laugh of disbelief. “shitty? why do you think i was asleep all day? it was amazing.” you nearly grimace as you realize you sound like you’re trying too hard to convince ellie. “besides, abby already asked me on a date. she wants to go horseback riding.” you lie right through your teeth, and ellie lets out a chuckle. “yeah? that sounds like complete bullshit.” she calls you on your bluff, and you raise a brow, “what sounds like bullshit? that someone could actually want something more than a hookup with me?” you ask challengingly, causing ellie’s annoyed expression to falter. “no, y/n, that’s not what i meant…” she trails off, her voice lowering slightly.
“then what did you mean? because to me it sounds like you think all abby or anyone could ever want me for is a hookup.” you reply dryly, but ellie can detect the slight hurt in your tone. she shakes her head again, “no that isn’t— it’s not you! it’s abby! girls like her aren’t actually interested in dating anyone. i mean, half the cheerleading team said she sleeps with girls and never talks to them again!” ellie points out, and you furrow your eyebrows. “since when do you listen to rumors?” you demand, making her run her fingers through her hair in frustration. “you can’t seriously be thinking about going out with her, are you?”
her question causes you to frown, “yes i am. and unless you can give me an actual reason on why i shouldn’t, then we have nothing left to fight about.” your voice is strangely stern, and something in ellie’s stomach drops because of it. “i’m going to go shower… just like was before you barged in here.” you know you sound meaner than usual, but you can’t help it. ellie was supposed to be showing you how sexy she was when she was jealous, not what a jerk she was. you didn’t even mean to lie about your date with abby; it had just slipped out. ellie had a way of pushing your buttons, and in a way you knew the more you talked about abby, the more you were pushing hers. you walk out of your room, shutting the door behind you and leaving ellie alone. she can’t help but glance over at the messy, undid bed that was taunting her. ellie hates thinking about you and abby together, but she still can’t figure out why. dina was right, the brunette might just be the most oblivious person on the planet.
you’re not as upset after getting clean. a warm shower and a fresh set of pajamas always makes you feel better. when you get back to your room, ellie is no longer there, but there's a twinge of guilt that runs through your veins. you push it as far away from your thoughts as you can. you know you shouldn't feel bad; after all, ellie has been raving about how "pretty" and "hot" angela is for the last four weeks! you shouldn't feel the slightest bit guilty for making her jealous with abby.
as your mind thinks about the honey blonde girl, a small, inevitable smile makes it's way onto your lips. though the smile falls fast when you realize you're going to have to ask abby to help you again. this time it was your own doing; you angrily lied to ellie and told her you had a date with abby. in a way it made you feel a bit pathetic, faking a date. the cruel voice in your head was telling you that ellie was right; you couldn't get a date with someone like abby... not an actual date at least. but ellie didn't really know that. as far as she knew, you were going to be riding off into the sunset with abby after your date.
ellie doesn’t text you throughout the rest of the evening or night. a part of you feels a bit bad for lying to her, but the other part of you knows you only did it because she was acting stupid. the next morning you wake up and get ready for your classes; feeling way better than you did yesterday. abby sees you walking to your second class, which happens to be women’s history with her. she can’t stop herself from approaching you, regardless of the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
“y/n.” she greets you with that soft accent, that causes an unfamiliar warmth to course throughout your body. “abigail.” you respond back, unable to contain the smile on your face. “how did things go with williams yesterday?” she asks curiously, and your smile falls at the mention of your best friend. “not good? was my plan a bust?” she questions cautiously, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. you sigh, “i don’t know. i mean, she was really mad yesterday when she came to my room. she heard people saying we hooked up, and she said all you wanted was to hookup and never talk to me again…” you trail off, and abby opens her mouth to disagree, but you go on before she can get a word out.
“i kinda got really mad when she said that and i might’ve lied to her about us having a date.” you blush in pure embarrassment, and abby lets out a laugh. “oh jeez, i don’t even wanna picture how angry she got when you told her that.” abby’s voice is light, yet there’s a slight seriousness in her tone; she remembers the way ellie was glaring at her the other night. you shake your head, a small frown etching itself onto your face. abby can’t figure out how you look so pretty all the time; even when you’re upset. “yeah she was pretty mad… but who cares? she’s just acting like a jerk! i mean, to be jealous is one thing but she doesn’t have to be an asshole about it. she’s supposed to be my best friend. realistically she’s supposed to be happy for me.” you mutter, causing the blonde to raise her brows in amusement.
“she’s your best friend who’s in love with you. the more time you spend with me, the angrier she’s gonna get.” abby points out with a slight mumble, and you sigh, “if ellie is as in love with me as you and dina say she is, then she would’ve said something yesterday. but she didn’t. i honestly think ellie just isn’t into me like that.” you sound genuinely sad as you come to terms with this, and the dismal expression on your face causes something to tug at abby’s heartstrings. she doesn’t like seeing you sad.
“she’s just stubborn. she needs more of a push. i mean you said she got upset when you told her we have a date.” abby tries, as you both stand outside of the classroom, continuing the conversation. “yeah, but she’s ellie, she literally has anger issues. maybe she was just mad that i promised to call, and i didn’t.” you explain, and abby shrugs. “then lets go on a date. let’s see how ellie reacts to it.” the taller girl throws the idea out there, causing you to freeze. you look at her, “you wanna take me on a “date”, just so i can see how ellie reacts?” your voice has suspicion laced throughout it, as abby nods. “why do you wanna help me so badly?” you interrogate slightly, obviously not trusting the blonde.
she laughs at the way your eyes are narrowed, and she can’t help but find every expression of yours absolutely adorable. “because i like you. you’re the coolest person i’ve met around here aside from nora and manny. i’ll help you get the girl if that’s what you want. i’m a great wingman.” she winks at you, and you roll your eyes playfully, that genuine smile that causes abby’s heart to palpitate returns. “you’re also a very sweet person.” you add onto her boast; this causes the back of her neck to heat up, as she looks down at her boots and smiles. you wrap your arms around her and hug her tightly, just like you did the other night.
and just like the first time you hugged her, abby’s mind begins to race as the smell of your perfume takes over her senses. she hugs you back, and when you pull away you have this mischievous grin on your face. “i guess we’ve officially got a date then, anderson.” you half joke, as you lead abby into the classroom. abby’s sure her face is as red as a tomato, and she’s much too busy thinking about how soft you are and how good you smell to think of a good response. instead, all abby can do is follow you like a puppy to your seat. she sits down next to you, and throughout the entire class, she doesn’t pay attention once.
after the class ends she realizes she hasn’t taken a single note, and has no idea what the assignment topic for tonight is. every thought she seemed to have, circled back to you. the worst of it was, you were probably thinking about ellie while she was thinking about you nonstop.
after class, she groans to herself as she realizes she has no idea what the assignment topic for tonight is. she was too busy stealing glances at you, and thinking about your “date”.
“god, what the hell did i get myself into?”
abby thinks to herself as she walks into her shared dorm. she throws herself onto her bed, her thoughts never leaving you.
meanwhile ellie slams the door behind her as she storms into her room. she can’t help but feel more upset than ever. she saw you and abby walking to class today, and it caused an ugly green wave of jealousy to wash over her. for a moment she actually wanted to go up to abby and punch her right in front of you, though ellie knew you’d never forgive her for that. but ellie also couldn’t just sit around and watch you fall for abby fucking anderson.
suddenly, she pauses in the middle of pacing as an idea hits her; like a lightbulb lighting up over her head. ellie knows what she has to do; she’s going to ruin your date with abby, and she has a million different ideas on how to do it.
xxxxxxx
team abby or team ellie? 👀
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i’m sorry to everyone it didn’t let me tag, some of your blogs weren’t popping up 😭 merry christmas loves, stay safe - vamp <3
#ellie x y/n#fuck!girl ellie williams#abby anderson x fem reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x female reader#the last of us#abby the last of us#abby anderson x y/n#abby anderson x you#ellie williams x reader jealous#jealous ellie williams x reader#abby anderson#ellie williams#abby anderson x fem reader angst#fanfic#fake dating
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three's a... - jean kirschstein x afab!reader x eren jaeger - 18+!!!
i feel like i have mentioned the possibility of giving y'all an erejean threesome way too many times to keep holding out on you, so now that i've finally nitpicked this fic to death, here we are!! literally living my dreams vicariously through this fic. i'm still not 100% happy with it, but eren and jean are sexy here and are doing half of the work of making this worth the read for me lolol. it's also written mostly through jean's pov which was interesting to play with.
pairing: eren jaeger x reader x jean kirschstein
wc: 6.5k
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, threesome, established relationship (eren's ur perfect bf and u guys can't stop having sex with jean lol), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, rough sex, vaginal fingering, degradation, biting, dirty talk, penetrative vaginal sex, anal (fingering and fucking), swearing, use of names (slut, brat, pretty girl, good girl, angel), mean dom eren vs soft dom jean, multiple orgasm, dacryphilia/crying, creampie, double penetration, bicurious jean and bicurious eren (tasty, they definitely don't keep their hands to themselves), polyamory implied
buckle up, this was a blast to write and i hope it's equally as fun to read. enjoy <33
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Jean should definitely not be here.
He should absolutely not be on his living room couch with Eren Jaeger’s girlfriend’s head in his lap, playing idly with her hair. By all traditional conventions and rules of exclusive relationships, Jean’s fairly sure that letting your girlfriend rest her head on the crotch of your roommate while he strokes her hair is on the no-no list. Not for Eren, apparently, who has your feet in his lap on the other end of the couch, playing with your toes absentmindedly and making you giggle and kick him in protest. Jean should not be here, but you and Eren have made a habit of roping him into circumstances that he would never admit to, not even at gunpoint.
If Jean is brutally, painfully honest with himself, he knows he had gotten himself into this. You were just so cute, wisping around their apartment in a big tshirt and tiny shorts in the mornings, always making sure to save him a cup of coffee. Maybe he had let his lingering glances linger just a little too long, smirked over his coffee mug at you one too many times, come up behind you to help you reach something on the top shelf and leaned a little too close, Jean couldn’t pinpoint exactly what caused Eren to notice his clear attraction towards you, but he did. Instead of getting his ass kicked like he had expected when you and Eren sat down to confront him, Jean had learned something.
Eren Jaeger has a greedy, spoiled brat of a girlfriend.
That had been the first time Jean came in you, fucking into your throat while Eren watched from across the room, palming over the bulge in his jeans. The second time, the two of you had invited Jean out for a drink, which, in hindsight, he should have seen the ulterior motive from a mile away. He had ended up cumming in your pussy, bending you over in the bar bathroom with Eren’s cock in your mouth. The third time had been in Eren’s bedroom as you rode him, Eren sitting behind you and working your hips over Jean’s cock as you wailed.
Jean had stopped his ministrations in your hair as he was reflecting on how exactly he got into this situation, trying very hard not to think too far into the filthy details to prevent propping your head up with an erection. You make a little noise of discontent, grabbing at his hands and urging them back to your hair.
“Jean, don’t stop. Feels good.”
Jean’s mouth tightens into a thin line at your choice of words, words he’s heard from you before under very different circumstances, but he obliges. So much for self control. Eren raises a smug eyebrow at him from across the couch.
“You’re giving her what she wants, right, Kirschtein?”
Jesus, you two are insatiable, still managing to grate on Jean’s razor-thin willpower with all of your clothes on. Jean wonders briefly what the appeal is for Eren, if he gets off on watching you take another man’s cock, bring another man near to tears with your warm, silken cunt. Does Eren enjoy dangling you in front of Jean until he’s forced to give in? Eren’s gaze lingers on Jean’s hands, threading through your hair, awaiting an answer.
“Yeah,” Jean says, not trusting any more words to his loose lips. They’ve already betrayed him three times now, saying yes when they should have been saying no.
“Good,” Eren responds simply, offering a small smile that, to anyone else, looks innocent. Jean knows Eren better than that. He watches as Eren’s hand travels up your bare leg, coming to rest on your upper thigh. You’re affected by it, such a simple touch, such a sensitive little body; he can feel you tense over his thighs.
Jean steels his jaw and forces his eyes back over to the movie. He’s got to stop playing these fucked up games of yours, it’s bad for him and he knows it. He hasn’t dated in months, not since you’d first pulled him into your little world, can’t bring himself to look at anyone else, can’t stand the thought of feeling anyone else’s skin under his fingers. His little crush has bloomed into full-blown lovesickness, and it would be best for him if he just stopped.
All of that ironclad willpower melts away in an instant when you let out a little moan.
Eren’s hand has snuck its way up to your shorts, nudging at the apex of your thighs. His focus is still trained on whatever reality show you’ve put on, completely ignoring the way you sigh under his touch. Jean’s cock twitches in his pants; this is his opportunity to hesitate, to say no, but he stays silent, only watching as you squirm in his lap.
“Eren,” your chastisement comes out as a breath. One of your hands comes to meet Eren’s, trying to push him away, but he simply swats your hand, shooting you a stern look.
“Behave,” Eren warns, eyes dark and dangerous. Jean’s learned that Eren’s mean to you, snappy when you put on your little attitude and fight back, but Jean doesn’t have the willpower. He holds you gently while he fucks into you hard, gives you anything you ask for.
You bite your lip and turn your head back to the TV, one hand coming up to pull Jean’s away from your head, wrapping your fingers around his. Jean’s breath hitches in his throat when you squeeze tight, back arching like you’re holding back a moan; Eren’s worked his way into your panties now, rubbing little circles over your clit.
“Look, Jaeger,” Jean makes a half-hearted attempt to remove himself, pulling his hand from yours and making all the movements to suggest he’s going to stand up, “I should–”
“What?” Eren cocks his head, as casual as if they’re discussing the weather. “Look at her, you really gonna just leave her there like that while I’m teasing her?”
Against his better judgment, Jean flicks his eyes down towards you. It’s a pitiful sight, your eyes already glossed over and staring up at him, wide and pleading, your bottom lip tucked in tight between your teeth.
“Jean,” his name comes out of your mouth, broken and already heady with arousal. That’s what snaps his resolve clean in two. You need him.
“What is it?” Jean hates the fondness in his voice, so glaringly obvious in front of your fucking boyfriend. Eren doesn’t seem to mind, though; he picks up speed, making you wriggle impatiently.
“Wanna kiss,” you whimper, reaching up towards his face.
“Don’t,” Eren stops Jean from leaning down, “she’s been bad today.”
“Is that so?” Jean rubs a thumb over your lips, frowning down at you. He can see the guilt in the way your brows knit together; oh, you have been bad, and you know it.
“Wouldn’t stop begging me for you, wanted to snuggle with Jeanie,” Eren raises his voice to mock you, slapping a hand against your clit and making you jump.
Jean’s face burns; is this it? Is this finally Eren telling him that you’re off-limits, finally deciding that Jean’s had his fill? And he’s going to rub it in his face by torturing you on Jean’s lap?
“Tell him,” Eren demands, another sharp smack landing on your cunt.
“Didn’t want to wait t-til you got home,” your face is already blotchy, eyes clouded with shame, “wanted Eren to text you and make you leave work.”
“And what did I say?”
“Be patient,” your voice wavers, Jean’s heart pounds in his ears, “and Jean would come take care of me.”
“So needy,” Eren tuts down at you, cruelly shoving a finger into your wet heat and instantly removing it, drawing a breathy whine from you, “see?”
Eren’s offering his finger to Jean, shining with slick, eyebrows lifted insistently. Jean narrows his eyes, cocks his head. What game is he playing at?
“What, don’t want a taste?” Eren’s eyes glint in the low light, taunting him. Jean leans forward hesitantly, lets the other man slide a thick finger between his lips. You always taste so good, salty and tangy; Jean feels a groan rumble deep in his chest. The corner of Eren’s mouth curls ever so slightly. Whatever game he’s playing, Jean’s losing. “Touch her, but no kisses. She has to behave if she wants that.”
You pout, bottom lip still wobbling where you’ve pushed it out, but you arch your back a little, straining your tits against your tank top. Jean knows you well enough by now, knows you chose that thin little top and didn’t wear a bra just for him, just to tempt him. You have been bad, but Jean doesn’t care, could never care when you’re looking up at him all sweet and needy. But he knows better than to disobey Eren’s rules, for your sake. Eren will edge you for the rest of the night, make himself cum, and leave you out to dry.
“Jean, please–”
“Sh,” Jean shushes you, sits you up just a little so he can pull your tank top over your head, “I’ve gotcha. Just be good for us, alright?”
You nod and smile drunkenly as he cups your breasts, kneading your nipples between his fingers. They’re one of his favorite things about you; he can’t resist leaning down to place sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your hot skin, lick around your nipples just light enough to tease. Maybe Jean can be a little mean too.
“More,” you gasp, fingers coming to clutch at his head, “more, I– oh!”
Jean’s eyes flit down your body to see Eren’s now got two long fingers shoved knuckle-deep in you, curling them fast enough to make you cry out, roll your hips up towards him. If he looks closely, he can see a wet patch forming on the crotch of your shorts; it makes his cock throb. He’s never met a woman that gets as wet as you, filthy at the slightest touch.
“You’re so messy,” Jean voices his mind without exactly meaning to, pulling himself from you so he can prop you up against his chest and let you look at the mess you’ve made. You give him a little whine of protest, tilting your chin up towards him, searching for his mouth.
“Please, I want–”
“I know what you want,” Jean thumbs at your lip, “he’s mean, isn’t he? Making you behave yourself when all you want is a little love, isn’t that right?”
“Mhm,” you manage to shoot a scathing glare at Eren that makes Jean chuckle, makes Eren smack your thigh hard enough to echo throughout the room.
“Stupid little slut,” Eren growls, moving his fingers faster, “you’re just all about Jean because he spoils you, aren't you? Someone has to make sure you behave yourself.”
Jean’s eyes widen; Eren’s clearly in a mood today, and Jean hopes it doesn’t have anything to do with his presence. Eren’s a mixed bag most times. Jean’s overheard him making soft, quiet love to you, little praises slipping out from the crack in his bedroom door, but Jean’s also watched Eren edge you to the point of tears, spit on your cunt, spank you until you bruise. Maybe Eren’s jealousy finally is getting the better of him, Jean thinks, maybe he just can’t say no to your insatiable appetite, and he is actually pissed that you had begged him for Jean.
“Jean,” you’re clutching at his shirt, moaning pathetically as Eren sucks harsh bites into your thighs.
“Did it to yourself,” Jean shakes his head at you sadly, “you know better than to make him mad.”
“Shut her up,” Eren nods his head at your mouth meaningfully, “I’ve heard enough out of her for today.”
It takes some awkward repositioning, but Jean’s able to pull his cock out, tap it against your tongue where you’ve already got your mouth hanging open, drool pooling on his lap under your cheek.You shove yourself up with some effort, and take Jean almost to the hilt on your first go, slurping lewdly around him. Jean nearly chokes.
“Oh, you are needy today,” he hisses, threading his fingers through your hair, making sure his view remains unobstructed. “That what you wanted? My cock in your throat?”
You manage a stiff nod around him in between the muffled moans you’re letting out around his cock; Eren’s added his thumb to the mix now, pulling your panties to the side so he can swipe at your clit.
“She was fuckin’ drooling for it earlier,” Eren says, meeting Jean’s eyes with a smirk, “should have seen her, all pouty and sad because her Jeanie wasn’t here. Pathetic.”
In the small part of Jean’s brain that’s still able to think rationally with his cock nudging at your gag reflex, he’s frowning in confusion. Eren is pissed at you because you were begging for Jean, and here he is spurring Jean on in fucking into your throat. It makes no fucking sense, really, but Jean’s getting his dick sucked, and not for the first time, by the woman he’s been pining after for months, so who is he to question it?
“Mmph!” You squeal, mouth too full to form a real sound, hips canting up violently towards Eren. Eren laughs, low and cruel.
“Aw, I think she’s gonna cum soon,” Eren pulls his fingers from you, a tear slips down your cheek. “Pity.”
Your cry of protest is whimpered by Jean standing up slightly, angling his hips to plunge as deep as he can. He’s only had his cock in your mouth a few times, but Jean’s intuitive. He knows how much you can take, knows exactly how far to push you before it’s too much.
“Don’t whine, baby,” Jean huffs, “just gonna make him more mad. He won’t let me help you if you don’t behave.”
“Look at you,” Eren runs his hands along your thighs, leans down to press a chaste kiss over where you’ve ruined your shorts, “being a good girl for us. S’that what it takes for you to behave? Need both of us?”
If Jean’s not mistaken, the garbled sound you make around him is one of agreement. The thought goes straight between his legs, brings him far closer to the edge than he’d like to be at this point. He pulls your mouth off of him, making you pout.
“But–”
“I know, I know, you want it,” Jean rubs an affectionate thumb over your cheek, “but you want me to fuck you, too, right?”
“Please,” you breathe, reaching down to wiggle your shorts off. Eren’s face lights up.
“Wanna show him your little surprise, baby?” Eren’s tugging at your shorts now, ripping them off and tossing them to the sides. He puts his hands under your arms, yanking you out of Jean’s lap and throwing your chest over his shoulders. When Eren’s hands come to your cheeks, spreading them so Jean can see, Jean’s heart nearly stops. There’s a little pink rhinestone glittering where your asshole should be– a plug, keeping you open and ready. Eren meets Jean’s eyes, daring. “She picked it out just for us. Want us both, don’t you? Nasty little thing.”
Eren punctuates his statement with a grin and a sharp slap to your ass that makes you jump, nod desperately from behind him. Jean reaches a cautious hand over, puts two fingers around the toy and pulls lightly, just enough to watch it move in you. You whine; he can see your empty cunt flutter.
“Can she take it? Both of us?”
“Oh yeah,” Eren brushes off Jean’s concern, “been using all her little toys for weeks, making me practice with her. She can take it.”
With that, Jean’s standing, padding into his room and knowing Eren’s following with you still tossed over his shoulder. His head spins; you, his precious little toy, have been stretching yourself out, getting yourself ready to have two cocks in you? The thought nearly makes Jean moan to himself, imagining how tight you’ll be all stuffed full.
Eren’s thrown you on the bed none too gently, stripping as you look up at him, hearts in your eyes. He stops midway through pulling his clothes off to grab your chin, offer your pleading gaze to Jean.
“Why don’t you ask him, hm?” Eren coos, looking between you and Jean with a filthy grin on his face. “Ask him again, see if you’ve been good.”
“Will you kiss me, Jean? Please?” Your voice has that thin, fucked out tone to it that drives Jean crazy, makes him want to make you cry.
“Yeah princess, I’ll kiss you.” He leans down, takes your soft mouth in his, Eren never releasing his hold on your chin. Jean can taste himself on your tongue, smiling appreciatively at the salty tang. Eren rips you away far too soon, pressing his mouth down on you far rougher than Jean had. They balance each other well, Jean thinks, the gentle caresses and the sharp slaps that make you come undone under them in a way neither of them can manage alone.
“On your knees, brat,” Eren sneers, the shred of tenderness that he’d grabbed your face with long-gone, “convince us to fuck you stupid.”
You nod obediently, sliding off the bed and onto your knees, reaching for Jean. He steps forward, letting you hold his cock in your little hand, rub up and down while you take Eren in your mouth. Even your hands are enough to drive him crazy, so soft and supple around him; Jean’s head falls back.
“Fuck,” Eren sucks a sharp breath in between his teeth, “that’s it, baby, take it.”
Something possesses Jean, what it is he can’t be sure, but he reaches a hand down to the back of your head, pushing you further down Eren’s length. He half-expects Eren to chastise him for it, but Eren groans, long and loud, a sound that simmers in Jean’s stomach.
Jean watches the contractions of Eren’s abs, trails his eyes up to where the other man’s strong chest is heaving, a strange, hot sensation trickling through his center. It’s too late to look away once he realizes he’s been caught, but instead of finding amusement when he meets Eren’s eyes, Jean finds something else entirely.
Eren’s looking at Jean the way he looks at you, all lusty and uninhibited. Jean nearly scowls at him, everything he’s internalized over the years rearing its head in his chest, but Eren stops him with a hand wrapped around the back of Jean’s neck. In the blink of an eye, there’s a set of lips on his, a sharp tongue licking into his mouth.
Jean lets out a wanton, strung out moan that Eren swallows, echoes with one of his own. Jean notices that your head has stilled under his hand, and he shoves you back onto Eren’s cock mindlessly, relishing in the way Eren’s mouth stutters against his own when you retch around him. He trails his hand, tentative and exploratory, up to Eren’s hair, grabs the bun at the back of his head and pulls. Jean’s surprised at the heat beneath his palm; he’s always known Eren runs hot, especially after the last few times he’s fucked you. It’s only natural to brush arms, brush legs during the act, but Eren’s skin is scalding, damp with sweat under his touch.
It’s not Jean’s first kiss with a man, not by any means, but he’d never guessed that Eren, headstrong, manly, unreadable Eren, had this in him. Had it been hiding there for all of these years? Was it a spur of the moment thing, that Eren would look back on and cringe at later?
Doubt getting the better of him, Jean breaks first, pulls away with a quiet smacking sound. Eren’s eyes are just as wide as his feel, searching Jean’s face for any sign of regret, of satisfaction, of something. A loud whine from below distracts them both, and whatever odd moment was forming is broken as they look down at you.
Your chin is covered in drool from where you’ve been choking on Eren, gagging around him, and your eyes are glossy and needy. Jean’s cock gets impossibly harder.
“What?” Eren taunts. “You jealous that I kissed your Jeanie?”
“Yeah,” you pout, brows knitting, but Jean can see the arousal written into your features. You liked it.
“Get up,” Jean says to you, voice hard and unforgiving.
You follow his instruction, standing on shaking legs. Jean can see the snark in your eyes before it comes out of your lips. “What, finally going to pay attention to me now?”
As soon as the words have left your mouth, Eren’s hand is around your jaw, wrenching it open for him to spit into your mouth. “Don’t fucking talk back, not if you want to cum.”
“You were doing so good,” Jean rubs a hand over your hip, guiding you to lay on top of him on the bed, “what, are you that desperate for us that you can’t mind your manners?”
“I just–”
“Want both of your slutty little holes filled?” Eren scoffs, kneeling on the bed behind where you’re straddling Jean’s hips. “Yeah, we know.”
You frown and lean down to Jean, searching for consolation, but he shoves you to sit back up, admiring the way your chest bounces with the movement.
“Can’t be nice to you all the time,” Jean’s voice is low, dangerous, “not when you act like a brat.”
He can see the heartbreak on your face, revels in it, but it’s short lived. Your eyes fly open as Eren works the plug out of you, tossing it to the side and wrapping an arm around you to take your neck in his hand. Eren looks down at Jean, exchanges a conspiratorial smirk with him.
“Why don’t you ask Jean if you can sit on it while I work you open, hm?”
Your eyes glisten pleadingly at Jean, but something’s come over him. He realizes he likes drawing those begging moans out of you, likes holding you over the edge between the tips of his fingers. Jean shrugs.
“Show me how bad you want it.”
While Eren reaches over to scrounge around for the lube in Jean’s bedside table, you start to work your hips over Jean’s cock, slicking it up with how wet you already are. Jean grabs you by the back of the neck, pulls you to him to drink down the little whimpers and moans that escape your lips.
“Jean, please,” you sigh into his mouth, “I need you.”
Jean’s resolve wavers, but he stands firm. “Beg.”
“I–” hot tears of shame are welling in your eyes now, Jean wants to lick them from your cheeks– “please, I need it, need your cock in me, please, Jean.”
“What do you think, Eren?” As Jean asks the question, it strikes him just how often he refers to the other man simply as “Jaeger”, not by his first name. In his mind, ‘Jaeger’ is his friend of many years, and ‘Eren’ is the man that he had just inexplicably, passionately kissed. “Think she’s earned it?”
“Let’s see how she takes my fingers,” Eren replies, slicking his fingers up with lube and forcing two into your already-stretched hole with ease, making you squeak in surprise, “oh fuck, she’s already so stretched out for us. Yeah, give her what she wants, let her warm up to it.”
“Thank you, t-thank you,” you stammer, out of your mind with want as Jean slides the head of his cock into you with a long groan.
“Shit,” Jean growls, holding onto you tight to prevent your hips from pushing down on him too fast, filling you up too quickly with Eren’s fingers hard at work in your other hole. Maybe he is the nice one, after all. “So fucking tight for me, aren’t you?”
“Mhm, for you,” you hum, lip tucked in your teeth.
“Think she likes you more than me,” Eren smirks from over your shoulder, working a third finger into you and making your jaw drop. For his part, Jean bottoms out, hissing as you pulse around him. He can feel Eren’s fingers scissoring through your walls, eyes rolling back into his head at the sensation.
“You okay? Is it too much?” Jean notices one of those tears that had sparkled in your eyes earlier threatening to fall, grabbing your face and forcing you to look at him. You look beautiful, all stretched around him and fucked out, mind blank.
“It’s a lot,” you nod, sniffle, “but I’m okay, I can take him. Want to, want– need you both.”
Eren’s eyes darken, and Jean can feel him remove his fingers, feel the accommodating stretch of your walls able to breathe again. Jean takes your hips in his hands, rolling you along his cock to grant both of you some of the friction you desperately need. You mewl, leaning over to wrap your arms around his shoulders. Eren’s lining up behind you, running a soothing hand over your back.
“Deep breaths, baby,” Jean instructs you, holding you to his chest. You sniffle and nod into his shoulder, muscles tense and twitching.
“Tell me if it’s too much, alright angel?” Eren leans over to press a surprisingly tender kiss between your shoulder blades and gives Jean a signaling nod, which Jean returns.
Jean can feel it the moment Eren pushes in, feel your body stretching itself to accommodate both of them. You squeal into the skin of Jean’s shoulder that you’ve taken between your teeth, and it hurts, but he lets you, rubbing circles on your lower back.
“Doing so good for us, baby,” Jean hums, pressing his lips to your ear, “too much?”
You shake your head, whimpering as Eren pushes in further.
“God, she’s– shit, it’s so fucking tight,” Eren growls, jaw clenched and a little vein protruding in his neck from the effort of holding himself back, reining in the part of himself that just wants to snap his hips forwards into you.
“Yeah, she is,” Jean chokes out, feeling suffocated by the way you’re pulsing around him, by the pressure of Eren’s cock shoving at him. He’s not sure where he ends and where the both of you begin, if there’s even any separation between his skin and Eren’s and yours anymore.
“Feel so– full,” you hiccup, nails digging into Jean’s shoulders. Your watery voice makes Eren pause, rub a hand over your back.
“You doing okay, baby? How you feeling?”
“Feels….” you take in a deep, heaving breath, “good. Feels so good.”
Eren grins, something feral. “That’s our girl. So good for us, yeah?”
“You like being full, hm?” Jean can feel a smile mirroring Eren’s on his face.
He doesn’t miss Eren’s choice of words. Our girl. And you are their girl, you love being full of them. Of course you do. You’re their insatiable little plaything, so good at taking them in each of your holes. You love it, you love them.
“It’s– fuck, I’m in,” Eren’s staring at where you’re all connected. Jean wishes he could see, but the tightness of you around him is enough, the way he can feel Eren through your thin walls, pressing against his cock. Eren pumps his hips experimentally, and all three of you moan in sync.
“Pl-please move, Jean, fuck- no, Eren, just–” you’re babbling nonsensically, music to their ears.
“We’ve got you,” Jean hushes you, fucking his hips up into you and cutting you off, “just sit tight and be our good little girl, alright?”
“Oh g-god.” Your words wrench from you in a sob, jolting with the thrust of Jean’s hips up into yours. It takes some work, but soon enough, they’re pumping in and out of you at the perfect pace, synced up so you’re never empty, not for long. You’re wailing, voice scratchy from all the crying you’ve already done that night, clutching onto Jean like he’s your last lifeline.
“Feels so fucking good,” Eren grits out, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hips, “so good for us.”
“Not gonna last long, not like this,” Jean agrees, sitting you up so he can see you, see your wet cheeks and your open mouth, “so pretty like this, aren’t you? All stuffed full?”
“She loves it,” Eren growls over your pathetic, shaky moan of agreement, landing a smack on your ass, “fucking loves us, don’t you baby? Tell us, tell us how much you love it.”
“I-I love it,” you manage, voice wrecked, “love you— fuck- love you both so much.”
Jean’s eyes widen, roll back in his head a little. You’re so perfect, obedient and willing to take both of them, let them abuse your holes. The thought makes him bite down on the inside of his cheek, not willing to be the first to break and ruin this perfect moment.
“Jean, I– shit, I’m gonna cum soon,” Eren pants, pupils blown wide and mouth hanging open when he meets Jean’s eyes. “Make her cum.”
Jean nods determinedly, somehow finds the presence of mind to slide a hand in between your slick bodies, swiping at your clit insistently. Your body blooms for him, back arching as you throw your head back against Eren’s shoulder. He feels you clench violently around him, knows you’ve already been on the edge since they started with you, knows you won’t take much goading to break for them.
“That good?” Jean forced out through his clenched jaw, trying to keep pace with Eren amidst your vice-like grip on him.
“Yes, so fucking– oh my god, J-Jean, I’m– Eren,” you’re babbling, close to the point of hysteria, eyes blank and teary. Jean’s free hand wraps around your hip, grabbing hard at the flesh there. He’s so gone he barely catches it, just barely, but he notices Eren’s hand. Eren lays his palm over Jean’s, deliberate and steady, grabbing onto the other man’s hand and squeezing down. Jean meets Eren’s eyes, fucked out and hooded.
“Come on,” Jean rubs faster, harder, his eyes flitting back and forth between yours and Eren’s, “show us what a good fucking girl you are for us.”
Whatever was tethering you to your sanity falls away, and you cum harder than Jean’s ever seen, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as your muscles lock up, legs trembling on either side of Jean’s hips. He grips your hip harder, trying to maintain a pace so you can ride your orgasm out on top of them. Eren follows quickly behind you, biting into your shoulder with a loud, long groan. When Jean feels Eren’s cum leaking out of you, feels the mess they’ve made between your legs, he falls over the edge too, slamming your hips down into his and grinding up into you with a moan.
The three of you collapse into a heap of limbs and sweat and stickiness, chests heaving and muscles twitching. Jean can feel the burn of Eren’s skin and the slick, plush give of yours, enveloping him from every angle, and for the first time in months, he lets his eyes flutter shut, letting himself enjoy the simple pleasure of touch.
But nothing is forever, and after a few minutes, he feels you begin to stir between them, mumbling about needing to go to the bathroom. Eren reluctantly rolls off the bed to help you to the bathroom to clean up, leading you out on shaking legs. Alone again, Jean throws his hands over his face and sighs, deep and hefty.
He shouldn’t be here, he should have never let you both goad him into this.
It occurs to Jean that he needs some air; the apartment feels suffocatingly small knowing that both of you are only a few layers of plaster and a door away. He pushes through regret and self-doubt, pulling his sweatpants back on and scrounging around in his laundry basket of unfolded, clean clothes to find a shirt.
“What are you doing?” Eren’s suddenly in the doorway, scowling at him.
“Going out.”
“You worked this morning. What, do you have plans or something?” There’s a clear note of annoyance in Eren’s voice, but Jean’s too exhausted and shaky to look into it.
“Jean?” You, Eren’s shadow as always, peer around his shoulders, a cute little furrow of confusion between your brows. “Where are you going?”
Jean nearly growls in frustration, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Out. I’m going out.”
He hates the way you flinch, grab onto Eren’s hand for stability in the wake of his snapping at you. Eren speaks next, but Jean doesn’t recognize his tone; it’s firm, but somehow, it’s lacking Eren’s perpetually angry intonation.
“Sit.” Eren’s got one finger pointed to the bed, ordering him as if this isn’t Jean’s own room. He drags you over behind him, plopping on the bed as if you all do this every day. Jean glares at Eren, softens his eyes at the way you’re looking up at him invitingly.
“We just want to talk a little,” you pat the comforter, smiling softly. That breaks him, and against Jean’s better judgment, he’s sitting where you’ve indicated, t-shirt still fisted in his hands.
“About?”
“We don’t want you to think– well, this…” Eren gestures his hands between the three of you, frowning deeper, and eventually sighing, “I don’t know how to say it.”
You pick up for Eren, smiling at him. “We don’t want you to feel like you’re out of place here, that’s all.”
Jean cocks an eyebrow. “In my own bedroom?”
“No, asshole,” Eren rolls his eyes, “with…with us.”
“What does that mean?” Jean’s heart nearly stops. A small, soft hand over his makes his breath catch in his throat.
“We’re not, like, experienced with this, so maybe we’re doing this whole thing wrong,” you look to Eren anxiously, who nods at you reassuringly, “but…we have room for you. If you’re open.”
“Like…” Jean barely trusts his voice to carry above a breath, “in what sense?”
“It’s not just sex,” Eren mumbles, flushing pink, “to us, at least.”
“We like you,” you clarify, smiling again, “and however you want us, if you want us, at least, you can have us.”
Jean blinks stupidly, looks to Eren to see if his face betrays anything, anything that could explain the conversation taking place, if it’s a joke, if he’s unsure. To his surprise, Eren looks up at him, green eyes earnest and burning into his, and takes the t-shirt out of Jean’s hands, giving one of Jean’s hands to you and taking the other for himself.
“It works,” Eren says, finding some conviction, “whatever you want to call it, this works.”
“For both of you?” Jean can hardly believe his ears, can hardly fathom the feeling of your soft, delicate little fingers and Eren’s calloused palms wrapped around his hands.
“For both of us. But…does it? For you?” Your voice wavers, your nerves betraying you.
“I mean, I don’t know what it is. I don’t understand it,” Jean admits, positive that his eyes are comically wide in the face of this new information.
“Me neither,” Eren shrugs, “but we don’t have to be so serious about it–”
“Not for now at least,” you smile at Eren encouragingly, nodding and urging him to press on.
“Not for now,” Eren agrees, squeezing Jean’s fingers ever so slightly, the smallest, most tentative reassurance, “we can figure it out later.”
“If you want it,” you bite your lip, looking up at Jean through thick lashes, “want us. We won’t be upset if you say no. No pressure.”
Jean thinks for a moment, thinks about everything you’re offering him. You, who he’s pined after for months, so beautiful and sweet to him. He thinks about sharing coffee with you in the mornings, holding you tight to his body and drifting off to sleep, letting you play with his hair. He doesn’t know if he loves you, but whatever he feels is pretty damn close to it, close enough to drive him crazy and keep him up at night.
And Eren. He’s been friends with Eren for near a decade now, known him for as long as he can remember. What this agreement means in terms of his relationship with Eren, Jean hardly dares to press, knowing how Eren is: flighty, argumentative, brash. None of that is written into Eren’s features now, though; Eren’s watching him intently, earnestly, chest stilled as if he’s holding his breath, waiting for Jean’s answer.
Something old and something new mixed together into something entirely unfamiliar.
“We don’t have to put a label on it now, or even go through the semantics,” Eren’s voice is spent, nearly breathless.
“We’ll give you some space if you need–”
“No,” Jean cuts you off, looking between you both, “no, it’s– it’s just a surprise, that’s all.”
Eren snorts. “How many times do we need to fuck you before you get the hint?”
“Eren!” You slap his arm, looking between him and Jean meaningfully. “Not really the time for jokes, is it?”
“I mean, fucking in the bathroom of Scout’s isn’t exactly wining and dining me,” Jean rolls his eyes. Eren laughs at that, unintentionally tightening his grip around Jean’s fingers and making Jean’s heart thud a little in his chest.
“You two are beyond annoying,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. Eren and Jean exchange a wicked smirk.
“Regretting this already?” Eren teases you, digging his fingers into your side and making you giggle.
“Get over here,” Jean pulls you onto his lap, feeling emboldened to press a quick succession of kisses to your jawline, to your cheek. God, maybe he does love you, the weight of you in his arms feeling almost perfect. Eren leans over and tackles you both, tickling you wherever he can reach, Jean pinning you to his chest despite your protests and thrashing.
That’s what’s missing, Jean realizes. It’s not about you and Jean, or you and Eren, or he and Eren. He understands Eren’s bluntness earlier: the three of you just work, regardless of the weirdness of it all or the awkward conversations that lay ahead. It works, and for now, that’s enough.
Eren relents in his torture, scooting up the bed and dragging you with him, pulling Jean’s covers over you both like he’d done it a hundred times. Jean’s last little inkling of self-doubt perseveres, and he hesitates, until Eren tosses the covers on your other side back, patting the sheets meaningfully. Jean swallows his pride, swallows his insecurity, and pulls you into his side, very mindful of Eren’s arm tossed over both of your shoulders, of Eren’s fingers weaving absentmindedly through the hair at the nape of his neck.
And in the morning, when Eren mimics Jean’s loud snoring and you’re playfully throwing little crumbs of toast at them over the counter, the little voice in Jean’s head that had warned him to keep his distance will be completely silenced for the first time in months.
#eren jaeger x you#eren jaeger x reader#eren jaeger smut#jean kirschstein x reader#jean kirschtein x reader#jean#jean kirstein x reader#jean kirstein x you#eren yeager x reader#eren yeager smut#eren yeager x you#theragethatisdesire
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do you have any directors commentary on the recent two updates? 👉👈 the color palette is absolutely lovely! and and and WOLF!! :DD
OH BOY DO I
In the original draft of this chapter, Wolf stays a, uh, wolf until like the 4th update. Instead of actually managing to get his teeth on the master sword, Loft threw him off immediately. The Deku Tree still said the line about all three of them being heroes and Slate is like. “Including the fucking dog????!” I thought it was very funny but a) it made some scenes later down the line a huge pain and b) I was tired of drawing wolves ALDKDKD
You may have noticed Wolf’s scowling in the bg of almost every panel. That’s kind of just his face, but also right now my guy is nursing the world’s biggest migraine from popping the shadow crystal out of his skull. He can stay wolfmode for a while, but it’s still technically a curse. It’s not consequence free, and there’s an upper limit for how long he can spend in that form. Anyway, cut him some slack if he’s a little prickly for a bit.
There were a lot of comments about Loft being strong enough to toss a wolf over his head lol. My hc is that he’s one of, if not the strongest Link sans any magic items like power bracelets or gauntlets. He’s actually not even as strong now as he was during his quest. Wolf maybe has him beat now, but he can still get tossed lolol
It might seem like Slate’s really taken everything that happened at the end of ch1 in stride, but don’t worry. He’s simmering. Loft is grateful for the opportunity to get distracted by something else. Maybe that’s why he was so willing to approach the wild animal he’s never seen before lol
This maybe goes without saying based on the events of the last two updates, but Slate never had wolf link with him during the events of botw. He doesn’t recognize Wolf.
I’m really glad ppl seem to be liking the colors bc I struggled with them so hard on both updates 🫠literally days of me turning to my roommate and going “I think I’ve never made anything worse” and them going “it looks good stop being dramatic” WKDJDK I have this thing where if I had an idea in my head for what an update should look like, and what I produce doesn’t meet it somehow, I start seeing in fucking. shrimp colors. Posting always gives me a confidence boost back lol.
these pages were cursed in general bc like. this doesn’t usually happen but I think I redrew every panel in this update at least 5 times each. that’s part of why it ended up being late SKDJF
I REALLY like the idea of being in the presence of the Triforce and having access to its power being this eldritch, divinely horrifying experience. The sort of thing that is impossible to explain to anyone and also haunts you forever. Loft spends a lot of time actively trying not to think about the Triforce. Just, like, remember that about him.
Like how tears in reality are shown through holes in the literal comic panels, I tried to show the concept of reality bending in the form of a panel stretching and twisting like a ribbon ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ I hope that came across. Triforce lore varies a bit from game to game, but I’ve come up with my own internal logic for bonus links that combines all the ideas I like lolol. We’ll learn more about it in due time!
I also really like this parallel :D I intentionally set up the panels so past and present loft would line up like this. i love getting to draw flashback links it’s so fun to think of ways to convey what they used to be like, and how their quests might have gone for them. Past Loft’s not having a great time by the time he reaches this point lol
I think that’s all I’ve got for now. Thanks for asking :D
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one to ten | jww
summary: your roommate may not know how to help you feel better, but that won’t stop him from trying.
pairing: jeon wonwoo x reader
au: roommates to ?, pining, sick fic
type: drabble (hurt/comfort, fluff)
rating: pg13 — still, minors do not have my consent to interact with my content.
cw: gn!spoonie!reader; downbad!best boi!super shy!roommate!wonu; chronic illness/pain is implied but no diagnosis is specified; hand-holding 👁️👄👁️; barely proofread because brain fog, lol.
a/n: this is super self-indulgent and based on my own personal experience with chronic illness (fibromyalgia), so it may be different than yours!!
wc: 1k
Wonwoo isn’t psychic, but he knows that something is up the second he gets home from work.
Walking through the door of your shared apartment, he moves immediately to deposit his keys on the nearby hook and finds that yours are already there. Odd, he thinks, given your habit of imposing your own overtime. Your commute is shorter than his, and you still never beat him back here.
He looks down as he toes off his shoes, carefully maneuvering them across the mat to avoid both your heels and your sneakers, which don’t seem to have budged since this morning. Wonwoo frowns. It’s rare for you to skip out on the gym at the end of the day, but it’s unheard of for you to miss work — even when you should, in his non-expert opinion.
That’s a bit of a red flag, he’ll admit.
Wonwoo locks the door behind him, pads off across the kitchen and through the adjoining living room, and eventually stops at your bedroom door. It’s cracked open — a secret code of yours, he’s learned. One that means you don’t want to be alone, but you feel the need to warn him about what’s on the other side. Usually, it’s you, deflated in your bed in a way that you find embarrassing. Still, even on your worst days, he’s never seen you look bad.
He’s not convinced that you could if you tried.
Softly, Wonwoo raps his knuckles against the doorframe to warn you. In response, he gets a muffled, “Hello?” It wraps around his heart and squeezes just a little. He loves that about you; how gentle your voice is when everything else you’re experiencing feels the opposite.
You lift your head up just enough to make eye contact with him as he slips through the doorway, and you smile. If it aches to do so, you pretend like it doesn’t.
He clears his throat awkwardly. “Hey.”
Admittedly, this is the part that Wonwoo feels he’s worst at. He’s never quite sure what to ask or what he can do to help, always simultaneously afraid of being patronizing or too hands-off. It’s a balancing act; his equilibrium is off.
And, god, he’s so shy when it comes to you. He can’t make himself act on any of the comforting impulses he absolutely has, so he simply pauses at the end of your bed and sweeps his eyes over your frame. A triage of sorts, he supposes.
You’re on your right side, hugging a hot water bottle, and there’s a Munchlax plush between your knees to keep them separated. Your left hip hurts, he guesses. It’s probably safe to assume that the rest of you does, too. Crinkling his nose as he thinks, he asks, “One to ten?”
Another code.
Wonwoo has to adjust the scale when you answer — three — because your three is his eleven. The good news isn’t lost on him, though: Your pain was a six during the last flare. Things may not be great, but they’ve definitely been worse.
“Mostly just tired,” you sigh, as if you can hear the calculations he’s running in his head. “I was this close —” You lift an arm and pull your thumb and index finger in so that they’re almost touching. “— to making it out the door this morning.”
Dropping your arm again slowly, you pat the space next to you in silent invitation. Wonwoo’s body hesitates, even though his pulse doesn’t. It’s par for the course, unfortunately for him.
He wonders how many moments like this need to pass before his palms don’t sweat anymore. Will filling the spot next to you on your bed, on the couch, or even in your passenger seat ever not affect him like this?
Maybe not.
He’s okay with that, so long as you keep giving him the opportunity.
You laugh, and it single-handedly diffuses the tension in his posture. “I think the side of the bathtub got taller. I almost had to yell for you to haul me out of there, but I managed.”
“Proud of you.” He’s chuckling now, too, but that doesn’t undermine how much he means it. Getting your body to cooperate with you is always hardest in the mornings.
For what it’s worth, he would’ve come running if you’d called.
Carefully, Wonwoo sits down on the vacant side of your bed and scoots closer to you, knowing you’ll call him out for leaving distance and anticipating how badly he'll blush if you do. It’s so much easier for you to be close to people than it is for him, but he’s trying.
He hopes you see that.
There’s a microscopic wince when you wiggle your way towards him. It’s replaced quickly by a satisfied little grin once you settle, your body curving around his bent knee like a puzzle piece slotting into place.
“You always run warm,” you muse. “I’m jealous.”
Wonwoo blinks, a little dumbfounded that you’ve noticed — not that he should be, really. He’s obviously picked up on a lot of trivia about you since you took over his former roommate’s lease several months back. If he knows the order of your skin care routine, it’s not weird for you to know that he can’t sleep without a fan on.
Should he have noticed this about you by now?
Curiosity makes him bold, apparently. He pulls his palm off the mattress and touches his fingertips to the back of your hand. “Goddamn,” he whistles.
His hypothesis is proven the second he touches you — you’re freezing — but Wonwoo admittedly gets a kick out of the temperature disparity. He can’t help but run the pads of his fingers absentmindedly over your skin, tracing nonsense patterns. You can’t help the pleased hum that slips out of you as you watch his ministrations; or the way your heavy eyelids start to interrupt your view.
Even when he’s sure you’ve been lulled to sleep, Wonwoo keeps doodling. It’s got to be exhausting to exist in a body that always aches, and you deserve whatever rest you can get. Truth be told, he could probably stay like this for hours if that would help. He’d be doing the same thing at his PC, anyways, holding a mouse instead of your hand.
Yeah, he thinks, this is a much better set-up.
#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo#svt#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo drabble#wonwoo hurt/comfort#jww#jade writes#jade’s drabbles#re: one to ten#kvanity
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Anakin is roommates with reader and has an addiction to smoking. Reader tries to help him with it and Anakin decided it’s not enough and wants something stronger. He thinks sex will help.
𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐀 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐠
Roommate!Anakin x Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ content (general smut), swearing, mentions of substance abuse (nicotine)
Summary: You’ve never had a great relationship with your roommate… one night you get home late and see him smoking. You remind him that smoking kills and although you hate him, you want to help him… it goes to rather drastic measures.
Word count: 3.2K+
Author’s note: Where did you get this idea??? I love it. Also, there are psychological terms being used here— I’m a Polisci and not a psych student and will be using terms I learned when I took AP Psychology sorry lol. Also, read the prompt as if it should be on the shorter side? So I made it as short as I could, hope it's good enough<3 (Btw this is def not beta read. We die like Padme on the table)
You never really got along with your roommate. He blasted loud music and often came home at odd hours of the night. God, you hated the careless way he lived his life. Hell, you didn’t even know what he did for work. He always paid his part of the rent on time, so you kept him around. Besides, there weren’t many other offers and he was willing to pay half.
On a particular night, you came back from an evening shift at the local mental health clinic. The bag that was lazily slung over your shoulder was dropped to the ground as you walked into the living room. There he was. His lips held a cigarette between them, as he strummed his bass. It was loud and obnoxious.
“Okay, Slipknot, could you turn that down a little?” You let out a heavy sigh and crossed your arms over your chest. He rolled his eyes at you, and took a drag of his cigarette, blowing rings in your face. It caused you to cough and waft it away immediately before you took it out of his mouth and put it out in his ashtray.
“What the hell! That was my last one!” He threw his arms up in the air as the smoke subtly settled in the glass.
“This stuff is a slow death, y’know?” You said with a tone that screamed ‘as a matter of fact’. He was clearly pissed at your actions.
“—and? Does it look like I care?”
“Look, I get that we don’t see eye-to-eye on things, and we’d both rather not be living together… but the only reason I’m willing to live alone without you is if you move out. Not if you die on this fucking carpet.” You clicked your tongue and pointed at the scruffy rug beneath your feet.
“Why do you even care?” He raised an eyebrow and scoffed at you. Yeah… why did you care anyway? The question stumped you for a brief moment before you finally thought of the perfect response.
“Who else is going to pay half the rent? Besides… I don’t want to clean up a cancerous body in my house.” You were still standing there in front of him with arms covering your chest.
“Whatever… I’ll try.” Wait. It was that easy?
“Wait, are you serious?” You were a bit surprised to see him nodding along and agreeing.
“Yeah, I guess. My mother would hate to bury her own son… or whatever…” He trailed off as he stared at the worn cigarette bud in the ashtray.
“I knew you had some sense in there.” You joked as you poked his forehead before leaving for the kitchen to make yourself a late dinner. Anakin followed you like a lost puppy, as you pulled out some fruits and readied a blender. He watched as you cut up the fruits neatly before you added them to the blender.
“Hey so—” he didn’t get to finish, because the blender started going.
“Oh sorry about that. What were you saying?” You stopped the blender for a second.
“What could—” The noise dialed back up again,
“Oh, sorry,” you chuckled and poured the mixture into a bowl with some yoghurt.
“Very funny,” he said with a roll of his eyes as he leaned forward in the barstool he sat in,
“No, but really— how am I supposed to beat the cig cravings?”
“Via Pavlovian psychology, of course.” You gave him a curt smile.
“I’m not a dog.”
“Didn’t say you were. Look, the hypothalamus controls cravings… sex and food mainly. This means— you can try replacing it with chocolate. Maybe carrots?” You mentioned and took a bite of your yoghurt mix.
“Yawn. Don’t like the sound of that.” He rested his face against his palm.
“There’s a thing we do down at the clinic… for alcoholics mainly. We slip something disgusting or nauseating into their drink and they’ll associate drinking with this icky feeling… works like… most of the time… sorta…” You shrugged and took another bite.
“Right… well there’s just the problem of— I’m not an alcoholic and you also said that only works some of the time,” he said. His elbow dug into the table as it supported his heavy head.
“Why do you smoke anyway?”
“Stress. Smoking calms me down after a long day.” His sigh was heavy and rough.
“Well then, something to destress whilst also eliminating your addiction… I really think something like chocolate would work.” By now, you’d finished your bowl and you put it aside to wash later.
“Yeah… whatever. I guess it’s better than nothing.” He got up from his stool and went straight into his room. Something told you he wouldn’t survive the first week without a cigarette…
A week had gone by fairly quickly and he hadn’t smoked since the night you lectured him. However, he ate chocolate in unreal masses. Even then, as he was sitting on the couch this afternoon, he had bought a pack of cigarettes. Referred to them as ‘emergency cigs’. Just in case. He stared at the packaging, letting his thumb trace over the ‘M’ in ‘Marlboro’. Oh, he was so tempted. Just one drag and he’d feel the relaxation settling in his shoulders and the sounds of birds chirping and children laughing in the streets. Just one won’t hurt. He peeled the plastic film off and opened the lid. He could already feel it against his lips. Just one—
“What the fuck, Anakin.” You came up from behind him and took the pack out of his hands. He groaned as you did so, desperately grasping for it.
“You were doing so great with the chocolate, why the hell did you buy these?!” You spat and hid them in your back pocket.
“The chocolates didn’t work well enough. I need more. I need something better.” He complained and sighed, leaning back on the couch.
“Fine. I’ll go out and buy you some nicotine patches. Just promise me you’ll kick this habit, okay?” You rolled your eyes and went outside to the garbage bins. You threw the brand new pack of cigarettes in there and wheeled it out front.
When you got back inside, Anakin had already left for his room. The two of you had an established set of rules, one of which was to not enter each other's rooms unwarranted. If any of the patients at the clinic taught you anything, it was that addiction was hard to beat. No matter what kind it was. As much as you despised having to live with him, he didn’t deserve to die an early death because of something he couldn’t control.
“Anakin?” You knocked on the door gently, but there was no response.
“Come on, man.” The knocking became a little more frantic, but there was still no answer.
“Whatever.” You walked away and found your purse before heading back outside to uphold what you said you’d do earlier.
After you got back, you heard him watching something on the TV. It was a car commercial for a new Ford model.
“Catch.” You got in front of the screen and threw him the packs of nicotine patches you’d bought. He peered up at you with lazy eyes and slowly unpacked one. You hadn’t really taken note of it before, but he was fucking hot. His hair was messy and his body was chiselled. He was shirtless and only in a pair of very unforgiving sweatpants.
“Thanks…” he mumbled and stuck a patch on his chest.
“Feel better?”
“Don’t know yet.” You took a seat beside him and cast Netflix to the screen,
“Anything you wanna watch?”
“Nah… I’m good.” He seemed as if he was giving up. He was all sluggish from not having had a cigarette.
“Okay…” you turned off the TV to sit and soak in the uncomfortable silence. Nobody said a word for at least a few minutes before Anakin finally spoke up,
“It feels okay… just… doesn’t beat the real thing.” Your head turned to look at him as he said that.
“I’ve tried everything, okay? I have tried to help you. For some reason, you always need more. What more could you possibly want?” You sighed and brought your knees to your chest.
“You said… the hyper something? was responsible for sex and food cravings, right?”
“The hypothalamus, yeah. That’s why we tried chocolate.”
“That’s food… what about… sex?” He took a gander at you with those intoxicating tired and beat eyes.
“Like… jerking off? I mean, maybe?” You shrugged.
“No, sex,” he said, staring right at you.
“Oh… well… knock yourself out, I guess? You have a girlfriend?”
“What about you?” He moved closer, still staring deeply into your eyes. His velvety blue ones captured your very soul with just their existence.
“I’m… um… I don’t have a boyfriend…” you swallowed harshly as he leaned into your neck. His breath hit your ear,
“I’d say that’s pretty convenient, no?” He grinned, letting you feel the electricity surging through your spine. You shuddered before swallowing hard,
“What are you insinuating, Anakin?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I need something better than chocolate. Something better than nicotine patches. I can’t just sleep with random girls every day and hope I won’t get an STD. You are single, and I’m guessing you don’t have any weird illness.” His smirk was evident, even if he was practically buried in your neck.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Anakin.” You sighed but didn’t resist his antics.
“Mmm ‘don’t think so. I have a pretty great plan mapped out in my head.” He began to nibble away at your skin, several sighs escaped your lips as he did so,
“Anakin…”
“Yeah, that’s right. Say my name just like that.” He ravaged your neck now, littering it with bruises and marks. He pulled away briefly and got up from the couch, taking your hand in his as he helped you up. Almost immediately, his lips crashed onto yours. He pushed you up against the cold wall, clawing at your waist,
“Jump.” You did and he grabbed your legs, wrapping them around his waist. He then carried you to his room, where he roughly threw you on the bed. Your breaths were heavy and he swallowed up every single one with his mouth. His tongue massaged yours as his hands massaged your clothed tits.
“Anakin—“
“Ani. Just Ani.” He captured your lips again. He loved those pretty little whimpers and gasps you’d make. It drove him wild. The way your hands were pulling at his hair as your lips desperately reached out for his… It was like a drug.
He pulled off his shirt and helped you get yours off too. You unclasped your bra, and he revelled in the sight. They were fucking perfect in his eyes. The embarrassment on your face as he stared only made him more hungry. He unbuckled his pants, pulled them down and discarded them somewhere in a corner. Shortly after, he got yours off too. Your panties were damp and when his two fingers went to investigate, he just had to point it out to you— essentially mocking you.
“Look who’s getting so worked up when I’ve barely even done anything?” He scoffed. The mocking only worked to turn you on even more, and the face you made gave it away almost immediately. Dumb mistake or was it served on a silver platter?
“Don’t tell me you get off on that,” he snickered and massaged your hips, one hand worked its way further down and ripped your panties off.
“Hey, those were expensive…” you mumbled, but he didn’t care. The whole house could catch on fire and he wouldn’t give a fuck, because he was here with you.
“I’ll buy you new ones.” He placed his thumb on your clit, slowly rubbing circles. You clenched the sheets with whatever little power you had left. Even with gestures as small as stroking your sopping cunt, you were at his disposal. Through and through.
As it got more intense, he added a finger, then two then went ahead and added a third— finger fucking you until you went cross-eyed, flicking as hard as he could. Your cries and moans were like music to him. Better than whatever garbage he played anyway.
“All for me? You spoil me, darling.” Fuck, that sent you toppling over the edge, clamping down eagerly on his fingers. With a final moan of his name, he felt your essence coat his fingers. After pulling them out, he licked and sucked them clean,
“You taste fucking heavenly. Better than the chocolate, that’s for sure.” He pulled you by the hips and kneaded them nicely, listening to how you panted like the needy little thing you were. One hand slowly travelled up to take a squeeze at your nipple before travelling back down. His hand grabbed the base of his cock as it rubbed against your sensitive folds. Fuck, he was good, but you were growing impatient. Surely bucking your hips would work?
“Fuck, you’re desperate, aren’t you?” He mocked you and snickered. It was embarrassing. Downright humiliating. Yet you relished in it. Oh, you needed him so bad your ovaries were going to explode.
“Come on… Anakin,” you mewled and arched your back.
“It’s Ani, darling.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead gently, still teasing your needy folds,
“Now, let me hear you again.”
“You’re embarrassing me…” you diverted your gaze and turned her head to the side. It was clear as day to see that your face was completely flushed.
“That’s the point,” he scoffed and grabbed your chin roughly,
“Come on, you can do it, can’t you? Be a good girl, tell me what you want.” Good girl. You folded almost immediately.
“Please… just do it.”
“Come on now, you can do better than that,” he snickered. His relentless teasing just egged you on even more.
“Please, Ani. Please fuck… fuck me,” you sighed with exceptional need, as you arched your back.
“Don’t think I heard that… a little louder?”
“Fuck me, Ani! Fucking take me!” Your desperation was clear in your tone and the way your brows were furrowed. You were pathetic to look at, and oh how he loved it.
“That’s my girl.” He leaned down to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss, as you felt him finally intrude your walls. He swallowed every moan you made and even drowned them with his tongue. His size was unthinkably big. There was one protruding vein in particular. The way your walls clamped around it, allowed you to feel it from its start to its end. He wasn’t completely uncivilized though. He allowed you to adjust to his size before moving even a millimetre. In the meantime, he sucked at your skin, twisted your nipples, and moulded your breasts. By now, there wasn’t one spot on your neck that wasn’t bruised. As these appeared one after the other, the pain from his cock invading your insides slowly mingled with pleasure.
“You can move…” He did exactly that. As if it were a command typed into a computer. He almost pulled all the way out, before slamming himself against your hips roughly and sighing out your name.
“You’re so fucking tight, princess,” he groaned as he wasted no time bringing your knees up against your chest, as he began to pound into you. His pace wasn’t too fast, but rough enough to earn those ethereal moans of yours.
“Fuck, scream for me. Scream my name. Let the whole block hear you,” he sighed, speeding up his pace, rutting against you like a heathen. It was fucking filthy. He watched as every inch of himself disappeared inside you, massacring your insides with no mercy. Every pant and every moan contributed to his head falling back in pleasure, as he drove his hips vigorously against yours.
“Ani!” His name left your lips repeatedly like a broken record. He was fucking you completely stupid. What day was it? What time was it? What was your own name? Your cock-drunk self had only one thing in mind: Anakin Skywalker.
“Fuck, I’m close!” You panted as he thrust with even greater speed and strength. He was relentless and unforgiving.
“That’s right. Cum for me. Cum on this cock, baby,” he groaned as you started clenching down on him. He was struggling to move with the tightness but didn’t give up that easily. His tip hit your cervix repeatedly and you felt like your guts were being rearranged.
Finally, you couldn’t handle it anymore and you tipped over the edge,
“Ani!” You fell limp, but Anakin was far from done. He pulled out, only to get next to you and pull you into his lap. His face was flushed. His eyes were hooded and his lips parted. His hands were kneading your hips,
“Ride me.” What? You had no means. You were limp and tired from the pounding you just got. Now he’s trying to go for another round? But oh, how you wanted it. You wanted so badly to feel him again. To feel a new angle of him. Quite literally speaking.
With whatever strength you could muster, you slowly sank down on him, taking him by each delicious inch. It was far too much for you though, your arms immediately gave out and you fell on top of him. That was no issue though; he helped you. He grabbed your hips tightly and thrust upwards. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head with pleasure. You’d never been fucked that food before. Anakin let his face get buried in the soft mounds in front of him, as he arched your back for you. He was determined to make you finish for the third time in the evening, before finishing himself.
“Doing so good for me, baby, you’re doing such a good job.” He continued to drag your hips down upon his, but with one hand, he slowly let go and pressed it against your abdomen,
“You feel that? That’s my cock ruining you.” This man… your words were illegible by now. He removed his hand from your stomach and stretched the corner of your mouth with two of his fingers,
“You’re so pathetic like this. Where’s the smartass now?” He was right. He was fucking you into oblivion. You couldn’t even fully comprehend what he was saying anymore. You just whined and moaned at him. Just like the good girl, you were being for him. The overstimulation didn’t help. In fact, you were already getting close again. Your pussy was suffocating him and his drags were getting sloppier and sloppier— until he finally got you to release on top of him. He pulled you for a few more thrusts before pulling you off, having you fall backwards on the bed so that he could paint your stomach white.
The two of you both panted heavily as he fell back. It felt like you were going to pass out from the exhaustion.
“Beats the nicotine and cigarettes,” he sighed with a snicker. His eyes were fixated on the white ceiling above,
“So does tomorrow work too?”
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Hi cozage,
Congrats for 2k!!!🤧💖
SO, I was thinking about how Sabo would confess his feelings for his beloved one, or like, SHE would confess first? Being so oblivious and occupied with work like he is, maybe isn't crazy imagine that happening 👀✨
I loved the silent treatment one with him lol, I don't see a lot of imagines with him, I miss it rsrsrs
Thanks for lighting up my day with your stories 💖
Thank you! Writing Sabo is always fun, I enjoyed this one a lot :)
Characters: gn reader x Sabo
Total word count: 1k
Subtle Realization
You knew you liked Sabo. You found him attractive from the moment you met him. But the second in command of the revolutionary army wasn’t as obvious with his feelings towards you.
You worked closely with him for weeks, a constant battle between hot and cold emotions from him. Sometimes, he asked about your day, your likes and dislikes, and many other things. Other days, he only barked out orders. It was confusing, to say the least. But there were a few moments that made you realize he was actually paying attention.
One morning, you were running late to a meeting, and you fully expected everyone to be pissed at you. You didn’t even have time to stop at your favorite bagel shop and grab breakfast.
But when you slipped into the meeting beside Sabo, he handed you a bagel with cream cheese and your favorite tea.
“How’d you know?” you whispered.
“I always see you there.” He shrugged. “Figured I’d just get your order for you since you weren't there this morning. That’s what friends do.”
Friends. That pesky word that he loved so much. He may have done one of the kindest things he had ever done for you- for anyone- but you were still just friends.
It was only a few days later when he asked you to dinner.
“We’re both working late, and you’ve been working so hard, I just thought it would be nice to go somewhere and talk away from work.”
“Sure.” Your voice was monotone, but your heartbeat quickened at the thought of the two of you at dinner. Alone.
It was a nice restaurant, far fancier than what you had dressed for, but Sabo complimented how lovely you looked, and the two of you had a fabulous time.
He learned about your past, and you learned about his-what he could remember of it, at least. He paid for dinner and even walked you back to your little cramped living space, like a true gentleman.
“Thank you for the meal,” you said. “Would you like to come in for a bit? It’s not much, but-”
“Oh no,” Sabo said quickly. “Dinner was lovely. We should do it again sometime.”
Were you reading too much into his words? Or was he trying to insinuate that he was feeling something more?
You smiled, trying not to let too much excitement show. “I’d like that quite a lot.”
“As would I.” He tipped his hat to you. “Since we’re coworkers, I think it’s important we get to know each other as much as possible.”
Coworkers. Somehow, it was worse than friends. You tried not to let your disappointment show, but once you slipped into your room, you couldn’t help but burst into tears.
A few weeks later, you were grumbling about your roommate. The set up was atrocious, and while you weren’t much of a complainer, your roommate and living space were both worthy of complaining about.
“Why don’t you just move in with me?” Sabo asked, not even bothering to look up from his writing.
You stared at him for a few moments. Surely you had heard him wrong. “What?”
“Move in with me,” he said again. “You already stay here well past midnight. Sometimes you even crash on the couch. I have a spare room. You should move in.”
You scoffed. “I can’t just move in, Sabo. Its-”
“Why not?” he asked, finally looking up at you. “It wouldn’t be much different than now. Nothing would change except where you call home.”
Home. With Sabo. Surely you were setting yourself up for heartbreak here. But you agreed.
Three days later, you moved in with him. And while you still referred to each other as coworkers or friends, you also went home together. You cooked dinner together. You shared a bathroom, and worked in the study together.
You never had a break from him, but you didn’t mind. In fact, on your off days, the two of you often went and did something together. You read books together and talked about them over dinner. You went on walks, and trained, and only when you said goodnight did the two of you go your separate ways. Sabo to the room on the left, and you to the room on the right.
It was awkward at first, but you quickly found a way to cohabitate. Cooking and cleaning was infinitely more fun with Sabo by your side, and he laughed a lot more in your presence.
Ten months after you first met him, he finally came to the realization.
You were sitting at dinner, just the two of you. You had made pasta, and you had managed to get some sauce on your face while the two of you were eating.
Without thinking, Sabo leaned over and gently wiped it from your chin, and suddenly the entire world simultaneously flipped on its head and made so much sense.
“Oh,” Sabo whispered, still staring at the place where the sauce had been. “I think I could do this forever with you.”
Your heart was beating so loud in your chest, you were certain he could hear it.
“What do you mean?” you whispered, scared to be hopeful.
His eyes darted up to yours. “I think I love you. And I don’t ever want to lose you.”
“Sabo-” you breathed out, but he lunged across the table, connecting his lips with yours.
He pulled away far too soon, afraid he had ruined one of the only friendships he actually cared about.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I know you might not feel the same way. I just realized and had to tell you.”
Part of you was certain this was a dream. But if it was, you never wanted to wake up.
“I feel the same,” you assured him. “I just wasn’t sure if you would ever…” You trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.
He gave you a slightly devious smile, leaning back across the table to give you another kiss. “Well I do. And we have a lot of lost time to make up for.”
For the first time since you moved in, the two of you didn’t go separate ways for bed.
#one piece#one piece imagine#one piece scenario#one piece x reader#one piece x you#op sabo#revolutionary sabo#one piece sabo#sabo x reader#sabo x you#sabo x y/n#cozage#✧˚sabo✧˚
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RECOMMENDED NCT FICS OF NOVEMBER 2023💖
hello, hello! here are my nct recs of november! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝
** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **
🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite
Makeup, Make Out || @polarisjisung💕✅
↳ somewhere between testing eyeshadow palettes and mascara wands, renjun tests the prospect of loving you (i love me some soft renjun. soft renjun is prob in my top 5 fics to read about in nct. like how can you not enjoy reading soft renjun fics?????)
Ready For Love || @jnnul💕✅💯💯💯
↳ a boy who has never taken a relationship seriously. a girl who is seriously over relationships. when they end up finding each other, will they let their ideas of what a relationship should be like ruin their relationship before it even starts? (the concept of one person believing in one thing and the other person believing in another but they come to one accord to overcome the obstacle is amazing. literally as op has said in their warnings "match made in heaven", they truly are and i love that.)
Misses Suh? || @nctsplug02🔞💕✅💯
↳ (there was not exact summary, but if you remember the jeongs fics from this author then i present you the suhs. stop i freaking love these fics from them. i hope theres going to be more suhs.)
Silent Treatment || @polarisjisung💕💔✅
↳ your boyfriend broke some guy's nose for you, but what he doesn't realise is he also broke his promise to you (how does one give jeno the silent treatment???? easy, pretend to be oc cause thats what i did. LOL LIKE HOW CAN YOU GIVE THIS MAN THE SILENT TREATMENT. mans gonna be looking at you with them eyes and you are just gonna fold. gosh hes adorable and sht)
Trauma || @peanutpinet💕💔✅💯
↳ Being the son of the famous Nam Goongmin came with a heavy price to pay for Jaemin. Though Taeyong managed to get Jaemin out of his father’s mafia business and helped him to heal, there was still some trauma that Jaemin had yet to face. Until he came across a girl that he would soon learn that he can’t always run from his problems (the fact that the story lowkey connects with the other fics that they have is a gold mine. my ass is out here re-reading everything from the beginning aka the first one all the way to this one while i wait for the next one.)
Enough For You || @midmourn💔✅💯
↳ you wanted to be enough for mark, but no matter what you did, you weren't. (brb let me just sit in the corner real quick. stop, i need more angst nct fics to satisfy my angst side. like you can just feel the hurt that the oc is feeling, cause i know for a fact everyone has been through this once in their life time.)
I'm A Mouse, Duh! || @springseasonie🔞✅
↳ Nomin in police costumes and Y/N in a "mouse" costume (it's literally just lingerie). Will they fuck? Keep reading to find out! (1. i love the mean girls reference. that movie is a classic. 2. another roommate threesome, i may have a problem. BUT THATS FINE. this fic was hella good.)
I Wanna Make You Scream || @nctsplug02🔞✅💯💯💯
↳ (johnny in a scream mask?????????? sir???????? HELLOOOOOOOOO????? like god this fic is, oh child.)
Rent Is Due! || @starillusion13🔞✅💯
↳ (theres no summary, but do you know what else is due??? my insanity after reading this fic. like god dam. had to take a moment to breathe after finishing the fic.)
Strawberry Cough || @hazyhae🔞💕✅
↳ when your longtime bestie and plug moves out of town, he recommends one of his buddies to fill your weed needs. jaemin is glad to deliver that, and maybe even more. (the fact that jaemin automatically has a stock of the strawberry flavor for the oc is cute as sht. mans literally fell in love at first sight.)
The Day That I Met You I Started Dreaming || @nctstar💕✅💯
↳ You watched in satisfaction as the imprint of your lips stained a faded red colour, two semi-circles adorned by fine lines. The smell of strawberry wafted gently, so subtle you could have missed it. Yet, his voice rang in your ears. “You taste so sweet, baby. You always do.” (stop, i think this was one of the "long" jungwoo fics that i have read so far. i should start reading more jungwoo fics ngl. i honestly like how the story went. like it was at a good pace. not too rushed and not too slow, at the perfect pace. )
They're Roommate || @luvyeni🔞✅
↳ maybe those “jokes” your roommates play on you aren’t actually jokes (nomin threesome??? let me at it. lord have fcking mercy on me)
Young God || @jaeminvore🔞💕✅💯💯
↳ in which you were essentially scammed into cohabiting with a ridiculously clingy demon that lives off of sex. It could be worse. At least he staved off from sucking your soul out in exchange of you sucking something else—among other things (demon hyuck is a menace but hes a cute menace you know. hes gonna be like your bffl demon. i honestly fully enjoyed this one so much, like you dont understand. the mans a cute ass menace)
NCT 127 Texts || @phoxphenex💕✅💯
↳ Baby 127 Calling Dad on Tour (stop i cant wait for them to be parents. like these fans are gonna have to grow a pair of balls and suck it up that these mens are gonna be parents in the future. like can u imagine their kid just texting them. their kid will have them on their knees i swear.)
NCT Dream Texts || @jenosz💕✅💯
↳ Jeno boyfriend texts (the way that i fcking cackled at the first one. i cant, that was literal GOLD. ngl thats prob something i would say to my boo, if i had one LMAO)
NCT Dream Texts || @midmourn💕✅
↳ Your mom hasn't paid me this month (stop jisung would be the one to actually tell his mom. protect this lil sprout.)
8:57PM || @gyeomsweetgyeom💕✅
↳(faster/2 baddies era jaehyun has me on a fcking chokehold im not gonna lie.)
Do check out all of the other NCT Fics that i have reblogged as well!!
** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **
#nct scenarios#nct fluff#nct 127 scenarios#nct dream scenarios#nct 127 fluff#nct dream fluff#nct smut#nct angst#nct 127 angst#nct 127 smut#nct dream angst#nct strangers to lovers au#nct friends with benefits au#nct established relationship au#nct friends to lovers au#nct timestamps#nct texts au#nct mafia au#nct fic recs#nct recs
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The Roommate and The Best Friend (College!Matt Murdock x College!Fem!Reader)
Author’s Note: Long time, no post, guys! I do apologize for going silent on the fic front--I’ve just been so tired lately, I haven’t had the motivation to really edit anything I’ve written. BUT, my sweet baby angels, this is the longest stand alone fic I’ve ever done! It also took forever to edit, lol. I really hope you guys enjoy! :)
Summary: You’ve been Foggy’s best friend since you two could walk. Matt’s been Foggy’s best friend since he moved in at Columbia. After three years at law school all together, you’re all as thick as thieves. When Foggy doesn’t show up one day to a study session, something blossoms between you and Matt that will change the ecosystem of your friendship trio forever.
Warnings: Fluff (friends to lovers, cuteness, cuddles, kisses), angst (shouting, friendship fights, hurt feelings), smut (p in v, protected sex, blowjob, handjob, being cute dorks when a matching set is involved), swearing
Other Characters: College!Foggy Nelson
Word Count: 8.081
“At what point do you think we can officially say Foggy isn’t coming?” you sigh, flipping the page in your notebook and highlighting what is written in accordance to your study system.
Matt lets out a breath through his nose as his fingers move to feel at the braille surface of his watch. “An hour ago?” he smirks, resuming his own work.
“Eh, I guess I should have seen that coming.”
“How so?”
“All boys are the same when they start relationships, especially when they reengage the on-again. Knowing Foggy and Marci, they’re doing some weird sort of sex-study review game.” You shudder at the memory. “You’re lucky you’re blind, Matty. You can’t unsee that.”
“Trust me, I think it’s worse to only hear,” he chuckles.
“Ew, don’t even remind me of the sound!”
Matt just laughs, his fingers sliding across the page.
“Hey, get back to studying, Chuckles,” you chastise, smiling big yourself as you move back to your notes. “Rule 24 of Federal Civil Procedure won’t learn itself.”
“Rule 24. Intervention. Intervention of Right: On a timely motion, the court must permit anyone to intervene who—.”
“Shut up,” you scoff playfully, hitting his shin underneath the table. “Show off.”
You go back and forth, quizzing one another on the rules of civil procedure in the unit, adjusting in the library chairs until you’re leaning shoulder to shoulder going over material, Matt having abandoned his braille textbooks to listen to you read to him.
“You have a really beautiful voice, you know that?” Matt hums, his voice dipping into a velvety timbre.
“You’re just lazy,” you chuckle as you tilt your head and gaze over at him. “Getting me to do all the work.”
“Delegating,” he attempts.
“Laziness,” you counter.
“You do better when do explain things. You’ve said so yourself. And I’m a great listener.”
You purse your lips and let out a little sigh. “I do do better when I talk out loud,” you admit.
“You also always find your answer when you do.”
“And I do like talking to you.”
“I rest my case,” he says with a satisfied smile.
“Asshole.”
You laugh in your little secluded spot in the library, your shoulders shaking against one another’s as you do. You tilt your head to face him, Matt doing the same thing at the same time, his dark rectangular glasses long abandoned, letting you look into the honey hazel galaxy of his irises.
“Hey,” he whispers, his voice making a warmth spread all over your body.
“Hey yourself, Murdock,” you counter.
“You’re gonna be a really great lawyer, you know that?”
You feel yourself blush. If it’s from the sentiment of his words, the pitch that he says it, or your proximity, you’ll never know. Maybe it’s all three. You’re just glad he can’t see the full extent of how his words make you feel.
“Thanks, Matty. You’re gonna be great, too. I pity whoever will have to go against you in court.”
“You are so extraordinary, (Y/N),” he whispers, his thumb and forefinger taking ahold of your chin, the space between the two of you smaller than you remember.
“So are you,” you breathe.
“(Y/N), I—."
“I think we’re just getting tired,” you breathe as his lips hover centimeters from yours.
“No, I think we’re picking up on something that’s been here for a bit,” he counters, his voice at such a low pitch it does things to the heart in your chest and the heart between your legs.
But this is Matt you’re talking about. He’s your friend. He’s Foggy’s friend, his roommate. Sure, people can bond with their roommates, but it was almost like something out of a buddy-comedy with what happened with those two, and it was instantaneous.
You shuffle and maneuver around everyone in the hallway, moving furniture and supplies into their homes for the next year as you track down the number that is your best friend’s new address.
“Alright, Foghorn, boxes have been unpacked, and liquor needs to be poured!” you call as you glide through the entryway, the door left ajar. When you enter, you don’t see anyone in sight. Did you get the wrong number? No, that’s not it: unless someone else has some interest in really niche bands and the same quilt his mother knit him for Christmas in undergrad, you’re definitely in the right place. The social butterfly of a teddy bear man probably bonding with his roommate or something.
Just as you flop down on what his definitely Foggy’s bed, you hear his laugh and the tapping of something growing closer to the dorm.
“ . . . and I said, ‘No, Mom and Dad. I love you guys, but I don’t want to be a butcher, I want to be a lawyer,” Foggy recalls his infamous butcher story, his words becoming clear as they enter.
“Not the butcher story!” you interrupt, sitting right back up like a vampire in its casket, watching Foggy enter with a handsome man next to him, his brown hair floppy and shiny, dark rectangular glasses perched on his nose and a white cane in the hand that isn’t holding his coffee. “You got coffee without me? Rude.”
“Jesus, (Y/N)!” Foggy hisses, almost slipping his to go cup of coffee in the process.
“Sounds like a pretty famous tale,” the man next to him says with an amused smirk pulling across some particularly pouty lips. Really pretty pouty lips.
“Matt, this is (Y/N), my best friend since toddledom,” Foggy introduces, licking some of the roast that escaped the sip hole of the lid. “(Y/N), this is my roommate, Matt. His dad was Battlin’ Jack Murdock.”
Getting up, you move over to in front of where he stands by Foggy, watching how he adjusts the cane in his grip to under his arm, extending his hand just enough where it looks expectant for yours.
“It’s nice to meet you, Matt,” you tell him with a soft smile.
“Likewise,” he says with a little nod.
“I have to say, my gram was a big fan of your dad. She loved watching his matches.” He acknowledges your comment with a nod of his head and a little, soft smile. “You know, you lucked out on your roommate. Foggy’s the best friend you could ever ask for. You might need to get some earplugs, though, he snores like a Foghorn.”
“Do not!” Foggy interjects.
“He’s still in phase one denial of the whole thing. Really, sometimes, I think he could wake the dead with that sound.”
Matt’s lips curl into an incredibly large smile with a warm laugh that matches the expression.
And, well, the rest his history, with the three of you being thick as thieves since that day.
“This can’t happen,” you breathe, swallowing hard while your head and heart race a million miles a minute. “Foggy is my best friend—he’s your best friend. We can’t.”
“I know,” he breathes. “That doesn’t mean I want to, though. And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you want to, too.” He pushes some hair that has fallen out of your clip behind your ear. “Would it . . . Would it really be the worst thing?”
Your eyes flick down to his lips and how is tongue peeks out ever so slightly to moisten the plush skin before back up to his honey hazel eyes and their off-center gaze, his face softer and more vulnerable without the dark specks resting on his nose.
“This kind of stuff can ruin friendships. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to hurt Foggy.”
“I don’t want any of that either. But I also know that I don’t want to go another moment without kissing you.”
It’s unclear if you’re the one that closes the gap between you or if it’s Matt, but before you know it, you’re kissing in your little corner of the library. His lips are as soft as they look, perhaps even more so, and his aftershave floods your nose—crisp and fresh, a subtle blend of sandalwood, vanilla, and coffee pulling you closer and closer into him. His large hands slide down the sides of your body, squeezing your waist, making you moan into his mouth. The sound encourages him to lift you up, placing you so you straddle one of his legs. As the kiss grows more heated, your fingers running through his incredibly soft hair, you pull back, your chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Are you okay?” Matt asks softly, his hands running up and down your body soothingly.
“Extremely,” you breathe with a bright smile.
Matt smiles so bright he could outshine the sun, lines of happiness etching themselves into the skin by his eyes as he leans back in for a kiss. His hands continue to move mindlessly along your waist and your back, his fingers grazing the hem of your shirt and sneaking underneath the soft fabric, making goosebumps break out over your body with a shudder.
“Isn’t it a bit of a cliché to do that in the library, Matthew?” you whisper in his ear as he trails wet kisses along your neck, your entire body tingling at your position and the way he moves against your body.
“Only if we get caught,” he smirks, moving his face back so it’s focused in your direction.
“I’m taking that as code for you can attest to that from experience?”
“It was a close call, never a red-handed situation.”
“Mm, you true gentleman.”
You watch as Matt’s brows shoot up and furrow, some of the energy leaving him as his demeanor beings to change. “Do you not want to? We don’t have to. I—.”
“I want to, Matt,” you tell him, your cheeks burning hot at your own admission. “Do you?”
“I do. I wouldn’t have kissed you like that if I didn’t want to. Unfortunately, I didn’t think it through all the way—we can’t go back to my dorm. Foggy is probably there.”
“We could go back to mine?” you suggest, your heart now fully racing like a marathon runner. “I have a dingle.”
“Dingle?” Matt repeats with furrowed eyebrows and pouty lips.
“A double that’s now a single since my roommate dropped out.”
“A dingle.”
“A dingle, yeah.”
Matt brings his lips back to your, his kisses needily and tenderly in your isolated corner of the library.
“So, is that a yes, Murdock?”
The wicked grin that pulls as his lips tell you everything you need to know, and he doesn’t even bothering to use his cane as you lead him to your dorm on campus.
As soon as the door to your place is closed, your lips reattach and your hands work in a frenzy against one another’s bodies, desperately trying to get the clothes off of one another. Your hands slide over his muscular arms and torso until they are buried in his hair, the only thought in your brain is that you need to get him deeper and closer—a thought that continues on loop for the time you’re together.
The feeling of Matt’s lips on yours is made so much better after the orgasms that he has pulled from your body over and over during the night, but you’ll be damned if he stops now. A thin sheen of sweat covers your bodies as Matt continues to rut into you, one hand on your waist while the other supports his body weight on the mattress, kissing your shoulders and neck while his little wooden crucifix swings back and forth around his neck.
“Matt,” you groan before you pull him up for a kiss, his hair an absolute disheveled mess. It’s sloppy and filled with need, but damn if it isn’t absolutely impeccable.
“Do you have one more in there for me, angel?” he pants as he moves his kisses across your cheek to the sweet spot of your neck. “Come on, angel, you can cum one more time, can’t you?” All you can do is whimper as Matt continues to wind up that special knot in your stomach. “You’re doing so good. One more, I promise. Just one more.”
Hiking up your legs around his waist, you make sure the Matt’s hips stay as close to yours as possible, selfishly letting him rub up against your swollen, overstimulated clit, and ensuring that he’s nice and deep in you. The little grunts and groans that fall from Matt’s lips are angelic, the parted, plush lips and scrunched look of bliss on his face making your heart race more than it already is from exertion.
“Matty,” you whine. “Fuck!”
“Doin’ good, angel. Fuck, so good.”
Biting your lip and closing your eyes, you let the feeling wash over you while you dig your fingers into his toned muscles.
“I’m gonna . . . I—.”
“M-Me too,” he moans, dropping to his forearm to come closer to you as you try to hold your legs back higher. The newfound closeness and the new position let’s Matt reach a new angle, and it’s enough for the both of you to fall over the edge together. Matt does his best to try and fuck you through both of your orgasms, but it’s too much, and he stills, his hand running all over your body as he dips his head and presses soft kisses to your neck and lips. You suck in a sharp breath as he pulls out, feeling hollow without him in you, the drag of his length along your walls enticing. Tying up the condom, he tosses it in the trash while you get up and pad over to the bathroom. When you get back, you see him waiting with a dopey smile on his face, the sheets draping over his hips like some kind of adonis. When you get close enough, he pulls back your sheets and you happily slide in, snuggling close as he wraps an arm around you.
“You’re good at that,” you hum. “I think you’d gold medal.”
Matt laughs as his fingers trace patterns into your skin. “You’re not too bad yourself.”
“We can’t go back from that, you know,” you say softly.
“Who says I want to go back from it?” He shifts his head down in an effort to look at your face. You look back at him with furrowed brows. “I want to be more, (Y/N).”
“Matt,” you start. “I meant what I said. I don’t want to lose you or Foggy. If we do this and it doesn’t work . . . I lose the two most important people in my life.”
“I swear to you, (Y/N), you won’t lose either of us.”
You snuggle down on him, listening to his heartbeat before you peck a quick kiss to his chest. “I want more, too.”
“Then we’ll figure it out. I promise.” Matt runs a soothing hand up and down the line of your back.
“What are you thinking about?” he whispers.
You let out a little sigh. “Just that I thought I was supposed to be wined and dined before I was sixty-nine’d.”
Matt lets out a chuckle that radiates throughout your body. “We didn’t—.”
Before he can finish, you tilt your head up to look at his face, witnessing the moment that it clicks in his brain. “Classy,” he laughs.
“I’m just saying . . .”
“I can order pizza? I just don’t think I can do booze to go.”
“Who says you need to bring the booze?” Rolling over, you reach into the bottom drawer of your nightstand and pull out a bottle of wine. “From the special movie night reserve.”
Matt’s lips turn into a big smile, making adorable lines appear again at the corners of he eyes as he leans forward for another kiss, making you loose grip on your bottle of wine. He catches it with ease, placing it to the side of the bed as he chases your lips, and the way he captures your body beneath his lets you know that he doesn’t plan for the night to end any time soon.
Your leg bounces and your heart races as your eyes keep flicking towards the clock on the desk, watching the second hand move painfully slow across the timepiece as you await Matt’s arrival like you do several times a week, except this time, you have a surprise for him. Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest when you hear a gentle knock at the door. There’s no special pattern to it, but the pressure and rhythm lets you know that Matt is on the other side. His handsome smile greets you when you swing your door open.
“Hey,” you smile as Matt enters your dorm, his bag sliding off his broad shoulders to the ground, cane leaning up against the wall, and glasses coming off of his face as he toes off his shoes.
“Hey yourself,” he hums as his plush lips curl upward into a smile, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss. The way his tongue slides into your mouth sends goosebumps all throughout your body; if anyone else tried to kiss you like this, you would consider it absolutely gross. But the way Matt does is? That’s how a man kisses—a man that’s on the cover of a romance novel that is dominant but tender, passionate yet gentle. A shudder of pleasure moves through you like shockwaves as he moves his hands up from your waist and up to your neck, helping him set the pace and motions of the kiss.
“I have a surprise for you,” you whisper when he finally pulls back, getting the sentence out just before he begins to eagerly move back in.
His eyebrows quirk up. “Do you, now?” Cocky bastard.
“I do. Now, sit on the bed.”
With a gentle push on his shoulder, he falls back on the mattress, making him coo in delight as he bounces slightly and causes the springs to squeak. With a little exhale to pump yourself up, you pull off your shirt and slide down your jeans, standing in nothing but your underwear.
“You know I can’t see it, angel,” Matt says with a tilt of his head. “But I do like what I just heard.”
“You don’t need to see it to appreciate it, Matty,” you inform, taking a step forward, taking his hands in yours and placing them on your shoulders. “Now, feel.”
This fingers glide over the soft lace that flutters off of the straps, down to the smooth mesh cups, and over the sides, tracing the lace and the pseudo-boning that decorate the bustier. His fingertips trace between the valley of your breasts, feeling a little criss-cross pattern that adorns the fabric before gliding his fingers down the the mesh panties and feeling the same soft lace that decorated it. A tiny moan escapes your lips when he brushes his fingers down between your legs, his digits lingering before they come to rest on your hips.
“You got a matching set for me?” he asks, his expression and tone one that you can’t quite read.
“Don’t flatter yourself too much, Murdock, it’s from Target,” you hum as his hands trace the hemline of your panties. “But yeah. I thought you’d like the textures being consistent. And, I could afford it, so, that was a perk.”
“You got lingerie for me,” he smirks, his lopsided grin telling you that you’ve only inflated his ego. “That’s so—.” His sentence his halted when his fingers trail to the back of the underwear, just below the small of your back. “Angel, I think you’re missing part of these panties.”
Now it’s your turn to smirk. “Nope,” you tell him, popping the ‘p’. “It’s got a little keyhole back. It’s not quite easy access, but—mm, Matty.”
“I say, it gives me a good idea,” he says as one hand squeezes the flesh of your ass as the fingers on the other slip into the keyhole and tease you. Pulling you back onto the bed with him, you straddle him as you mimic the kind of kiss he greeted you with upon arriving. Moans and puckering quickly fill the room as you grind your hips on his jeans, opting to tease him through his light layers before attempting to shed them.
“You are such a fucking tease,” he murmurs in between kisses.
“Hi pot, it’s kettle,” you quip as you mark up his neck before pulling off his shirt. If you didn’t right this second, you’d never hear the end of it.
“Objection—badgering!”
“Overruled.”
With a light shove, you push him down so you are now fully on top of him, kissing all over his beautiful chest and soft skin as you grind into him.
“Shit,” he hisses. “Fuck, that’s nice.”
“You’ve helped me perfect my technique,” you hum into his skin, moving your kisses back up to his neck and lips. “Gotta get you nice and hard for me, Matty.”
As you continue to grind down on him, his hands guide your hips, setting the pace and pressure just so in an effort to make you both feel good. When his hands begin to travel up on your body along the line of your spine, you gently take hold of them and bring them back down.
“I got the matching set for you—it’s staying on during this entire thing,” you smirk, dragging his fingers along the mesh and lace of your panties. “Now, I can’t say the same thing about these jeans.”
Moving off of him, you undo his belt and pants, shimmying off the denim with some help from his hands, allowing you to take hold of his painfully hard cock, pumping it in your hand before you bend down, your knees digging into the thin mattress so you can start to take him in your mouth.
“(Y/N),” he moans. “Fuck . . . So nice, baby.”
“Mm,” you giggle, dragging your lips back and forth along his length, licking him here and there. “Your cock is so pretty, Matty. I love putting it in my mouth.” Slowly going down on his length, you wiggle your head side to side lightly until you’re all the way down on his length with your cheeks hollowed out. You look up at him through your lashes, feeling a sense of pride at how is face is contorted in pleasure and how long his lashes look resting on his cheeks. Moving off of him, you gasp and catch your breath, hungrily kissing up his length while one of his hands cradle the side of your face. His hand doesn’t set a pace as you bob your head, repeatedly taking his thick cock into your mouth over and over, but rather as a silent show of encouragement and affection as you work him. Careful to not get too lost in it all with Matt in your mouth, you reluctantly pull off, leaving soft pecks all the way up his body until you meet his lips.
“Are you ready to fuck me with my panties on, Matty?” you coo.
“Thought you’d never ask,” he murmurs with his lips against your. Taking you by surprise, he quickly grabs you by your hips and flips your positions, making you giggle and bring his lips back to yours for a deep kiss. Like a rehearsed routine, he extends his arm to the side and opens your nightstand drawer, rummaging around for the box of condoms you keep there. “Angel,” he pants, “I hate to break it to you, but there are no more condoms in this box.”
“What?” you say practically whining as you adjust your position under Matt, taking the investigation into your own hands. Just as Matt said, the box of contraceptives is completely empty. This time, you do whine. “No!”
“I told you.”
“I could have sworn I had plenty.”
“You know what it was?” he says, something clicking in his brain. “Moot court championship.”
Thinking back to a couple of weeks ago, you remember exactly how you celebrated the travel team winning your championship over Yale—you and Matt being the two that secured the victory, which only provided extra cause to celebrate.
“Damn, you’re right,” you sigh.
“I could always run out and get some more? I’d be quick.”
“Just what every girl wants to hear,” you joke, only for Matt to roll his eyes, licking his lips and tilting his head back in playful annoyance. Damn, he’s got a beautiful neck. “No, Matty. I don’t want you going out this late.
“It’s not too late, sweetheart.”
“I’d be worried about you going out in the dark.”
“That’s sweet—you worry about me.” Nothing in his words are condescending—they’re filled with pure affection. “Trust me, (Y/N). I’m a big boy. I can handle myself.”
“I still don’t like the idea of you going out.”
Matt kisses your forehead before resting his on yours. “I have an idea, but I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”
“You’re right, I don’t,” you say, knowing immediately where he is going with his sentence.
“Well, since you don’t want me to go out and get some more and I really, really need to be inside the smart and talented woman that bought a matching set for me, we’re in a pickle.”
You let out a huff, your hands sliding down Matt’s furry arms.
“Foggy isn’t there?” you check.
“Out with Marci.”
“And you’re sure there’s no way he’d be back?”
“I can say it’s highly likely he won’t be back. Even if he does—.”
“Matt—.”
“Even if he does,” he repeats. “He’s gonna leave almost immediately because his roommate is having sex.”
“And if he asks with who after? Actually, better yet, what if he tries to come and hang out with me?”
“Tell him you’re out shopping. You and I both know that while he’s a man of unique fashion, he treats shopping like a mission. Trust me, that should work.”
You look up at him, licking your lips in hesitation before you pull him down for a kiss. “Okay. But first . . .” Maneuvering him on the two pushed together mattresses of your dingle so you’re on top, you run your hands down his body, wrapping your digits around his rock hard length and pumping him a few times. “You’re not going anywhere with a boner that big.”
“Matt,” you breathe as he glides into me so incredibly effortlessly, hitting deep over and over. “Oh God, Matt.”
“Angel,” he grunts, a delicious blush spreading up and across his chest and neck. “Fuck, I needed you.”
“You’ve got me,” you smile, taking one of his hands in yours, lacing your fingers together while he thrusts into you. “Mm, you’ve got me, Matty. I’m yours. Only yours. ’m not going anywhere.”
The softest smile spreads across his features when he rests his forehead on yours. “My girl,” he whispers before bringing his lips to yours.
Dipping his lips to your neck, his holds your hips up so your back arches slightly off of the bed while he thrusts into you.
“Matty,” you whimper. “I lo—mm! Matt!”
Matt places wet kisses all over your chest and neck before he brings his lips back to yours.
“So perfect,” he mutters in between kisses, and it’s then that you hear the twist and jiggle of the doorknob.
Matt abruptly breaks your embrace, frantically moving to cover your body with his, and you curl inward and down to the mattress, facing the wall so Foggy won’t be able to see your face.
“Sorry! Sorry!” Foggy says, and you can hear his hurried movements to grab what he needs. “Inopportune timing, I know, but Marci invited me on a weekend getaway, and I need some things.”
“Just hurry,” Matt urges him, and you can tell that the rapid way that his chest rises and falls isn’t from your interrupted exertion. “Please.”
“Don’t worry, I am out of—,” Foggy starts, but he doesn’t finish his sentence. “Those are (Y/N)’s shoes.”
“What would her shoes be doing in our room, Foggy? She can’t just leave them places —she kind of needs them. Besides, I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”
You hear Foggy’s bag fall to the floor with a thud.
Shit.
“Matt, who’s with you?”
“Foggy—.”
“You know, I think I might just give (Y/N) a call. Check up on her.”
“Fog—.”
“Wait,” you sigh, closing your eyes in distress and defeat as you break your silence. Adjusting from under Matt, you turn to look at your friend. The look of pure betrayal and hurt is one that will haunt you for the rest of your life. But what’s even scarier, is how quickly the hurt in his eyes turns to pure, red-hot anger.
“Get away from them!” Foggy shouts, pulling Matt off the bed, Matt barely having enough time to react and keep his sheets around his hips. “Don’t you dare touch them!” You hop down from the mattress, standing between the two best friends and roommates, sticking your arms out to create extra distance in the tiny dorm so Foggy doesn’t absolutely jump Matt.
“Stop it!” you urge.
“I can’t believe you!” Foggy continues.
“Foggy, believe me, we didn’t mean for this to happen, it just did—,” Matt tries.
“You know how much they mean to me, and you just decided to ignore it and drop your pants for a quick fuck—!”
“Hey, whoa, out of line, Foggy!” you interrupt. “Don’t put this on Matt like that, we both—.”
“I’m not talking to him, I’m talking to you!” he clarifies. “You know that Matt is my best friend, and you go and do this? How could you? I can’t believe you! After all the things I’ve told you, about how his is with women—.”
“Hey!”
“—how could you be so careless and reckless?”
“Excuse me—.”
“I thought you were smarter than this! I can’t believe you!”
“Foggy—.”
“I can’t even look at you. Just get out of here!”
Tears burn at my lash line as I let his words absorb into me.
“Get out!” he repeats, the level and tone of his voice something I am thoroughly unused to. “I never want to see you again.”
You would’ve rather he just sent an open-faced slap across your face. His words and his tone cut you like a knife and are worse than any other pain you have or could ever experience. Mixed with his glare more than confirm that my best and oldest friendship has now been severed in half with no chance of reconciliation.
“Fog—,” Matt starts quietly, breaking the deathly silence in the room.
“I’m going,” you say after a moment, grabbing the clothes you can find. You don’t really care that they are Matt’s sweats—you just want to get out as fast as you can. Throwing them on and grabbing your bag, you begin to rush out of the room, only for Matt to take a few steps out to follow you.
“(Y/N)—,” he says softly, his beautiful hazel eyes desperately trying to focus on your face as his tongue darts out ever so slightly on his lips.
“I’ll see you later, Matty,” you tell him with a kiss to his cheek, as he holds your hand feet away from his door in the empty hallway.
“It’ll be okay,” he whispers, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.
You squeeze it back. “No. It won’t.”
“How mad is he still?” you ask quietly as lie with Matt in bed, unable to stand the silence in the room that allows your thoughts to run wild, ramping up your anxiety over the friendship that you lost. Foggy was true to his words when he said he never wanted to see you again—he has cut you off cold in every way imaginable, from changing his route from dorm to class, to finding a new coffee shop and time to eat in the mess hall, to changing his seat in class to the other side of the room, and even going as far as to request a new partner for a project, erasing every possible venue where you could interact.
“He’s still really upset about it all,” Matt sighs. “He’s talking to me. It��s not exactly the same degree as it was, but it’s enough where we are moving back to what we were. It’s still awkward sometimes, though.”
“Does he know that we’re still together?”
“He does.” Matt pauses for a long while, his arm rubbing up and down your arm as if he’s listening to your silent question that screams through the dorm room. “We don’t talk about relationships, though.”
You let your breath hitch in your chest while your jaw tightens, a fresh wave of guilt that you haven’t felt in a long time washing over you. “I’m sorry that I’ve made things weird between you guys,” you whisper on the verge of tears.
“It’s not your fault, (Y/N).”
You snuggle down into his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. “Sure as hell feels like it.”
“He’ll move past it. It’s just gonna take time. Before you know it, it’ll be back to how it was.”
“It won’t be the same, Matt. You know that it won’t. Especially after all these months . . . it’s dead and gone and buried.”
“It will be okay, (Y/N).” When you don’t respond, Matt moves his hands down your body and situates you so you’re sitting on top of him, the covers pooling around your waist and leaving you exposed to the cold winter air that seeps in through the old windows of the dorm. “I promise you, (Y/N), that it will all be okay. And you know how I know? You and Foggy have the biggest hearts of everyone I know. There’s so much love in there, and there’s so much love that you have for one another. So when I tell you that it’s going to be okay, it will be okay.”
You give him a small smile, leaning down and taking his face in your hands, giving him a soft and sweet kiss.
“Thanks, Matt,” you whisper, brushing his hair off of his forehead.
“Hey, I know what will get that smile to grow.” With his hands on your hips, he begins to rock you back and forth along his leg, holding you down, placing just the right amount of pressure down on your hips to create the friction that you need between your legs.
“Dick,” you chuckle as he guides you along his strong, muscular leg.
“You gotta give him a minute before it’s good for either of us,” he hums, only making you laugh more. “But I got you to smile.”
“You always make me smile, Matty.”
“Ditto, angel.”
Your room fills with the slick sound of your core against his leg and your heavy breathing, the sounds only getting louder as your pace increases.
“Right there,” you breathe as he guides your hips on his thigh, soaking the skin that’s there and creating a mess between your legs. “Fuck, Matty. It’s so fucking good, baby.”
“Grab a condom, angel,” he moans. “Fuck, I gotta get in you soon. Need you, angel.”
Twisting around quickly, you go to reach for the box in your nightstand. However, you twist too quick, losing your balance and teetering off of Matt’s thigh, crashing down on the concrete floor of your dorm, your arm breaking the fall. You groan in pain, muffling the sound by keeping your mouth shut as it tries to escape your lungs, and you hold onto your forearm, a throbbing pain radiating from deep down.
“(Y/N), are you okay?” Matt asks you as he gets out of the bed and helps you up.
“Fine,” you grit through your teeth. “It’s fine.”
“It doesn’t sound fine.” You wince when his hand grazes your arm. “(Y/N)—.”
“I’m okay. I just whacked my arm real good.”
“It sounded like more than that. Take the word of a blind man with really good hearing. It’s more than a whack.”
“Matty, it’s okay.”
“You really should get it checked out. It might be broken.”
“It’s not broken, Matt, trust me. Nothing Advil and ice can’t fix.”
“Sweetheart, please. That way, we can know for sure.”
“Matty—.”
“I’ll foot the bill.”
“It’s not about money, I—.”
“Go for me. It’ll make me feel better to know that a medical professional says you’re fine,” he continues. “Please, angel.”
You let out a sigh, taking in how concerned he is and how soft his features are.
“You’re gonna have to help me get dressed,” you concede.
“It’s gonna be a while,” you tell Matt as you sit back down next to him in the waiting room.
“But the forms are filled out,” he says with a little smirk. “One step down.”
“I’m telling you, Matt, it’s probably nothing.”
“And then you can rub it in my face. But at least I’ll feel better knowing you’re all right.”
“Yeah, but you’ll have an uncomfortably sore back.”
“C’mere,” he whispers, having you adjust and snuggle into his chest as you sit in the stiff, flat seats. “I always feel better when you’re on me—it’ll cancel out the shitty chairs.”
You chuckle softly, finding the sweet spot that you love to curl into. “You’re a good pillow, you know that?”
“You might have told me once or twice before.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head while he throws his coat over you like a blanket. The motion immediately brings the sleep creeping at the edge of your consciousness to the forefront, slowly taking over. “Try and sleep, angel. I’ll wake you up when they call.”
“No sleep til Brooklyn,” you smile.
“You’re hilarious,” he sighs, lightly resting his head on yours. “You still need to sleep. You were up late studying for your last final, got, what, maybe three hours of sleep? And you’ve been going all day. I’ll wake you up when they want to take you back, I promise.”
You yawn wide and snuggle into him, closing your eyes and feeling just how heavy they are. “Kay, Matty. Love you.”
You feel his hand slip into yours on on good arm. “Love you, too, angel.”
When you feel Matt gently shake you awake, you’re sure you must have only closed your eyes for a short while, but when Matt helps me up, your watch tells you that it’s several hours later.
“Want help, angel?” he asks as you slide his jacket back over to him.
“I’ve got it, Matty,” you hum, giving his lips a quick peck. “Besides, I got to prove to you that it’s all fine.”
“Okay,” he chuckles, giving the hand on your good arm a squeeze. “See you soon.”
After he listens to you get led back, Matt tunes into the orchestra of the waiting room, listening to anything and everything for a long while before something catches him off guard.
“What happened?” a familiar voice rings in Matt’s ears in the quieting ER.
“Foggy? What are you doing here?” Matt asks, standing up.
“Marci was visiting her cousin that had a baby. She saw you guys come in, said that something looked wrong.”
“(Y/N) hurt her arm. She didn’t want to come, but she was in a lot of pain. I almost had to drag her here.”
“What happened? How’d she hurt it?”
“She was trying to reach for something and overestimated the stretch. She fell off the mattress and landed hard on her arm.”
“Is it broken?” Foggy asks as he sits in your empty seat.
“I think it is,” Matt sighs, mirroring his friend’s movements. “She’s convinced she’s fine, though.”
“Of course she thinks she’s fine. She never wants to admit when she’s hurt. It’s like when she gets a cold, it’s always just—.
“Allergies’,” Matt finishes with a smirk. “Yeah. You know, she got a really bad cold about a month ago, and she would swear a blue streak that she was okay. I had to keep a bag of lozenges in my bag with a to-go Tylenol so when her fever spiked, I could give her some with some water or get her a tea from the coffee cart. I don’t know how she muscled through it. It was really bad.”
He can hear how his friend turns to look at him. “You really care about her, huh?”
“I love her, Foggy,” Matt tells him. “When I was with Elektra, I thought that was love. But being with (Y/N) . . . I know she’ll always be there. She makes me better. She helps me be who I want to be. And I’d do absolutely anything for her. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.” He tilts his head to his friend. “You know she didn’t want to date me at first? She was afraid it’d ruin our friendship, but she was more worried about how you would take it. She didn’t want to hurt your feelings. After everything . . . Fog, (Y/N)’s absolutely torn up about it.”
“You know, I’ve thought a lot about what I said to her and how I said it,” Foggy starts. “The look on her face . . . The worst thing about it all is that when I said those words, I wanted them to hurt her, and I did exactly that, and I felt good that I did. She looked so broken. By the time I wanted to try and talk to her, I burned that bridge so much I couldn’t reach her. I feel like the biggest piece of shit that there is.”
“If I know anything, it’s that (Y/N) loves you, and you and your friendship means the world to her. That bridge isn’t gone. If anything . . . The map was lost. And just because the map is lost doesn’t mean that the path over that bridge is gone for good.”
“You think so?” Foggy asks hesitantly.
“I know so. And if I know you and (Y/N) even a fraction of how well I do, things will be okay.”
“Thanks, Matt.”
“I’m just telling you the truth, man.”
As they talk in the waiting room, everything starts to feel like it used to—the ease, the comfort, the flow of conversation. After about ninety minutes, Foggy declares a quest for coffee, groaning as he stands, bemoaning just how uncomfortable the ER seats are. Shortly after Foggy disappears, Matt hears your heartbeat grow closer to the double doors you went through, the nurse giving you a list of care instructions. Matt smirks to himself while he can, taking some pride in the fact that he convinced you to get some help and prevent it from becoming worse, but willing to play none the wiser for when you come out.
“I’m not saying that you were right, only that I underestimated the severity,” you sigh as you meet Matt in the waiting room.
“What was it?” Matt asks, leaning in to kiss your cheek, but you wince when his hand is on your arm. “(Y/N), this feels like a cast.”
“Well, yes, it is. My radius and ulna are broken. But I was right, I’m fine. I’ll survive.”
“You are absolutely fit to be a lawyer,” he chuckles, kissing you once more. “When can the cast come off?”
“It’ll be off just in time for the start of the semester. No kinky sex stuff, though.”
“I’m sure we can find some kinky stuff to do that won’t hurt it. Trust me, I can get very creative.”
You laugh as he leans in for a kiss, your lips still turned into a smile as you embrace. When you pull back, you see Foggy approaching with a coffee travel tray. You immediately dip your head and avoid looking at him, unable to fight the feeling of tears that instantly bloom in your chest.
“You still like cinnamon in your coffee, right?” Foggy asks, making you tilt your head up to look at him, his other hand extending the hot cup to you.
“Two sugars?” you ask softly.
“No cream,” he says with a little smile.
Taking it with your good hand, you let the cup warm you up. “Thanks, Foggy.”
“I’ll hail a taxi for us,” Matt says, pressing a kiss into your hair and then patting Foggy on the shoulder, leaving nothing but thick air between you and the person you’ve known your whole life.
“Listen, (Y/N)—.”
“I’m sorry, Foggy,” you blurt, unable to contain it. “With Matt, we just kissed, and I didn’t want to stop kissing him, but I really didn’t want to hurt you. It was head and heart and I just froze, and I lost my best friend because of it. I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry about, (Y/N),” Foggy says softly, looking like he just saw a puppy get kicked. “I thoroughly overreacted. I should have been happy that my two friends were together and happy. Instead, I turned into a big brother and treated both of you like you didn’t know what you’re doing. I dunno . . . I guess I had just wished you would’ve told me.”
“I didn’t want you to be mad. And the longer I waited, well, it felt like I couldn’t tell you,” you tell him. “I’m so sorry.”
“You love him?” is all that Foggy asks.
“I really do,” you nod. “He loves me, too. He hasn’t said it, but I just have a feeling, you know?”
“Something tells me that he does, too.” His brows furrow in concern. “Can you forgive me?”
“Of course, Fog. Do you forgive me?”
“I’d wrap you in a big hug as a silent ‘You bet your bottom, I do’, but then I’d hurt your arm even more than it already is.”
“You still can,” you say with a small smile. “I’m a tough cookie. I can handle it.”
“How about when the two of you aren’t holding hot beverages?” Matt interjects as he reapproaches you.
“Attention to detail—that’s why you’ll be an excellent lawyer,” Foggy teases.
“Thanks, man,” Matt tells him, putting his jacket around your shoulders. “Good to go, angel?”
“Yeah, thanks,” you hum.
“I say let’s go to Josie’s. Drinks on me,” Foggy says as you move to the cab. “I’ve got my best friends back—if that isn’t cause for celebration, I don’t know what is.
“You think we’ll have time?” Matt asks, feeling at his watch as you guide him into the taxi.
“I’m sure she’d keep the bar open just a little longer for her favorite patrons and retainered legal council.”
“None of us are lawyers yet, Fog,” you chuckle as Foggy tells the cabbie the address for the bar.
“But we will be after we pass the Bar, and once we are, we’ll be her lawyers. Bingo, bango, bongo. She’ll let us have a tab and everything.”
“Dreaming big, aren’t you?” Matt laughs.
“Oh yeah, once we get that tab, we’ll be able to take over the world.”
“How about save the world?” you offer.
“Matt’s big humanitarian heart has gotten to you, I see.”
“C’mon, Fog. Who better to stick up for the little guys than three little guys from the Kitchen?”
“You make a good point. But I do counter—big office space with nice big windows and a view.”
“Well, a big office space would be nice. Windows and a view isn’t a deal breaker for me,” Matt smirks.
“We’ve got a real comedian over here.”
“All I’m saying is that if we’re helping people, does it really matter what the space is like?”
“Well, it’d be nice to have walls, floors, WiFi—ooh, no lead paint . . .”
“Okay, the space matters a little bit,” Matt and Foggy laugh as the cab comes to a halt, Matt beating you to the punch and paying the driver before you can unzip your bag.
“Regardless of its size, the space has to be in the Kitchen,” you settle. “If we’re gonna help the people, we need to be with the people.”
“Amen,” Foggy agrees, followed by Matt’s, “Here, here!” as we walk in.
“Sounds like we’ve got a future to plan,” you smile as you sit between them at the bar.
“Josie—the eel, please!” Foggy asks. “And several napkins: I’ve got some designing to do.”
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Yandere orc x reader ❤️🔥🥀🔪💚 part 3
This is going to be more of ✨WHAT ITS LIKE LIVING WITH XURL✨
Xurl was...always with you. He would often sleep at the side of your bed (when you fall asleep he would sneak into the covers).He would often nuzzle you with his tusks. It was strange to say the least but you weren't complaining you needed the company and being in the forest all alone wasn't the safest as we learned earlier,so having an orc roommate wasn't bad ... especially one so*cough cough*.
You weren't completely in the dark about orc culture...you lived with them for quite a few years ,but you were far from an expert.Xurl's behavior was unusual but you assumed pre and post puberty would change behavior and even what was expected culturally and you didn't see orcs interact with each other in there own homes.Maybe there a more touchy species .So it means Xurl likes you (there not lol he just obsessed with you *cough cough*)
Xurl would often hunt and gather food for you.You have fun running around the woods with him finding food and even Herbs for your little shop
One time you accidentally stumbled upon Xurl taking a bath in a nearby river and you saw everything from his torso up.It was a sight.He saw you and even invited you in but you were too much of a blushing mess
With Xurl being your new roommate you made more space and got rid of low hanging lights so he can walk around more freely(still small lol)
He would often try to follow you into town when you go to work,but you have to always stop him.Times have changed but not everyone has changed their mind set.Your town is relatively inclusive and safe, with a Neko family and Mr Pine being of elf blood.But an orc as you realize is much different than a cute Neko especially when the town is made up of mainly humans. So you do it for his own good.
It does break your heart each day when you see his sad lonely face 😭(but you always promise you'll return)
(he totally stalks you by the forest line to make sure you're safe....yeah)
He LOVES small animals just loves them
I've been living with Xurl for a few months now and he was definitely entertaining and nice to have around. We've been trying to get to know each other again, but funnily Xurl didn't change much...well personality wise anyway.But Xurl has been acting strange as of late. Fidgeting more, stumbling over his words he was nervous and anxiety ridden. I decided I'd bring it up to him. He's beginning to worry me and the moment I decide to open my mouth he shoves one of his tusk rings into my face.The gold piece of jewelry was reflecting the sun beautifully and beyond the ring and his large hands.
I see his eyes
They were practically looking through me.A blush crawls from my neck to my cheeks as I register what this means.As a child I would often see orc couples share matching rings on their tusks similar to the human tradition of wedding rings.I stutter and look around "T-This is lovely X-xurl b-but"I couldn't even finish my sentence before I saw the hurt in his eyes and he lowered the ring."O-Oh I...I'm sorry"I could hear his voice quiver a little and my heart started to swell and I started to choke up.
"Xurl...I'm really flattered..but-" I was cut off again "I thought we had started courting...I should have know...I'm sorry y/n i will go" his head was hanging low to hide the tears in his eyes as he walked to the door I felt annoyed by his fast assumption and interrupting me like THAT SHIT HEAD... "MY GOODNESS XURL CANT YOU LET ME Finish A SENTENCE" and I quickly grabbed his hand stopping him from moving towards the door.He looked at me with a mix of confusion and relief as his hand clasped over mine ."I was going to say I'm flattered and I should have known what some of the stuff I did for you implied in orc culture.I've gotten rusty in the department"his eyes raised from the floor but still held a sad look.
My face flushed as I thought of my next words "Xurl I don't want you to leave...I like you a lot...........Like in a romantic way but I didn't think we were counting originally so the ring was a surprise".He shot straight up making him reach his full height and his eyes filled with hope "Xurl...I...lov-" but before I could finish my word strong arms were around my waist and lips on mine.I relaxed in his touch.
"I'm sorry"....
"I'm sorry too"
A smile danced on our lips as he looked at me and his grip on me tightens slitly"I know the tusk ring is more of an engagement thing but will you still expect it.I want others to know your mine"heat was in my cheeks at his words and I felt my legs fall under me but with Xurls arms still around me I stayed standing"y-yes...I would love too....as long as you stop interrupting me " he chuckled at my comment "sorry love I was just nervous"and his lips envelope mine once more as he slipped the "ring" on to my wrist.
Your all mine
I hope you liked part 3 of my orc oc lol.if people still show interest in Xurl I will make more stuff on him and hopefully my other ocs.So show some love and I hope you guys are doing well
Love gardenletter 💕
#hot anime character#anime#boyfriend x reader#fictional character#oc x reader#soft yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#orc#orc oc#orc x human reader#dating sim#orc boyfriend#orc x reader#yandere orc#yandere orc x reader#gardenletter oc#garden letter orc oc
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The Sign - Ep 8
We all see you Tharn, how you are eager to be petted and kissed, like Namami! For a second, but still, because, like a true cat, you stopped it for reasons known only by you 😭 100% cat behavior 😆
...............
I have mixed feelings after this episode 👻
On the one hand, it was very interesting, we learned a lot of new things, most of my wild theories turned out to be true, there were a lot of funny scenes that made me laugh out loud.
But this episode left me feeling very unsatisfied. For so many reasons:
Phaya looks terrified after waking up from a nightmare. And after a short conversation they both just go to sleep like…..roommates lol Tharn should have hugged Phaya and comforted him, I would give my right kidney for Phaya cuddling up to Tharn like Tharn was cuddling to him before. This scene begs for Tharn to comfort Phaya!
Phaya and Tharn spent a 💞🔥 night, confessed their feelings to each other, and Tharn even said that he made an important decision for himself and Phaya. And their morning after after all this was… nice. That's all. Phaya, Tharn and we deserve better!
Scenes from their past lives. Hmm. First of all, I find it strange to insist on calling Wansarat a girl when the series shows Tharn as a man. I know they didn't want to show Phaya (Billy)'s romance with Wansarat (Freen) so as not to damage BillyBabe's Brand Couple™ image, but there is a very simple solution to this problem: they could have hired another actor to play Garuda and Freen to play Wansarat! And it would even make sense, because at one point Phaya himself says what does it have to do with him, since he already loves someone and it's Tharn - a guy, while watching himself and… Tharn on a fantasy TV with us 🤷♀️🤷♀️🤷♀️
Maybe it's just me, but I don't see any great love between Garuda and Wansarat, certainly not like between Phaya and Tharn. Like, they met, bam! they're a couple now, then in a very soap opera-ish (which makes it a bit comical) style, they both die. Unfortunately, in my opinion, this story lacked depth, emotions of these characters, their feelings. The most emotional scene was Chalathon's horror when he killed Wansarat. I just... I just don't believe in their love being powerful enough to want them to be together again, to create new reincarnations 🤷♀️
Ok, enough with tis negativity :) What I liked about it:
There was no awkwardness between them in their mornig after scene, they are both adults, they are both smitten, Tharn tries hard to hide how mushy he feels and I love his sparkling eyes and hidden smiles. 🥰 I like that Phaya immediately suggests moving in together, it's very much in his character. (It's a shame that there is no conversation about their relationship status, I think Phaya is the type of guy who immediately wants the rest of the world to know that Tharn is with him)
I love the abbot, how uncompromising and badass he is, how he has no qualms about fucking up the deity he serves, talking back to him, reprimanding him and how he uses his superpowers. He's super cool.
The training scene was great:
Khem is fun and a little shit in combat, but very skillful
Thongthai ending the fight and winning it with one, well thought, well placed, killer sentence 💀😎
Khem who puts being Thongthai's boyfriend above everything else, including his pride, him winning the fight, everything. The scene where he beats himself with Tongthai's hands: 10/10
teasing Tharn but again in such a nice, friendly way 😊
astounding detective work in figuring out where Tharn spent the night
Phaya coming to Tharn's rescue and stopping any situation that might cause Tharn discomfort 🤩
Phaya kicking Khem's ass and CALLING THONGTHAI TO HELP HIM AND THONGTHAI WITHOUT HESITATION JOINING IN KICKING KHEM'S ASS 😆😆😆 it was SO FUNNY
Yai telling Phaya to take care of his baby brother and Tharn smiling shyly and sweetly and not protesting at all! 🥺 ok, just kill me now, too much uwu 🥺
The scene of Tharn and Phaya by the river, how Tharn takes care of Phaya, them holding hands, Yai feeling happy for them and the scene of him making a heart gesture with a random guy 😆
I also really liked Phaya's panicked look when he doesn't see Tharn.
The strange thing is that Tharn, who pulls Phaya away from the water, promises to take care of him, is stressed by the whole situation, when later doesn't see Phaya for a long time does… nothing. He's not even aware that Phaya's gone! Well, it's not the first time that Tharn is a victim of the plot and what currently suits the scriptwriters, and it probably won't be the last 😑
I liked Phaya saying: cool story bro, this cgi is nice and shit, but what does it have to do with me, as I already have a sweet boo back home, who is a whole ass DUDE (I know, I checked thoroughly last night) and also my whole world 😤 I love him for that 👌 I really wanted to make it clear that Phaya fell in love with THARN, not someone else's reincarnation, even if that's technically the case.
I liked Tharn's fight with that masked guy.
And I liked Tharn in white shorts and Phaya's oversized clothes. Phaya also served some sexy looks in this episode 👌
Absolutely perfect, heartbreaking scene of Tharn's anguish. I love Babe's voice in the scenes of his despair, his voice cracked just as much when they were pulling Phaya out of the water during their training, as it does now. It's... wow...
And finally, the question… what exactly are Phaya and Tharn paying for, what was the abbot talking about, what is their karma, what did they do wrong to keep paying for it? Because this story shows that they are both victims of OTHER PEOPLE, and that karma should be a bitch only towards Chalathorn?! Am I missing something?
(Phaya must have pleased and served Tharn well, since he did not wake up either when Phaya was being strangled and he tossed around in bed, or when he got up first in the morning 🤭🤭)
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I.O.U
(Be There For You Follow Up)
A/N: Same universe as BTFY, different characters, same medicine. You don't need to read BTFY to understand this story tho they're kinda their own thing
Pairing: Qian Kun X Reader
Genre: Be There For You AU, Smut, Doctor Kun, Good Ending, (as always, i know nothing about medicine lol)
Warnings: Mind Break, kun is kinda mean
Word Count: 2.3k
“I mean, every college kid does a clinical trial to make a quick buck at least once, right? That’s just like, part of the freshman experience!” You were on the phone with your friend as you stood outside the clinic, ready to get tied up to an IV for 10 hours or have your sleep monitored.
“Whatever. Don’t let them do anything stupid to you, alright?” Your friend replied, dryly.
“They’re doctors! They wouldn’t intentionally hurt me, right? Anyways, I’m gonna go in!” Way too optimistic, considering you were willing to go through Hell for $1000.
You walked in and went to the front desk.
“Hi, can I help you?” The worker, wearing a name tag that said “Jeno” asked you. He seemed… like your average nerd. Chunky, black rimmed glasses in a rectangle shape.
“I’m actually wondering if you have any studies that I could participate in.” You smiled up at him, biting your lip, as to avoid asking him if his bright pink hair was up to code.
“Hm…” He grabbed a paper. “How about you fill this out to let us get a better grasp of who you are, then I’ll have a doctor chat with you, alright?” He quickly smiled up at you, but his eyes were cold, probably wishing you’d leave him alone already.
You nodded. “Thanks!”
After about 30 minutes and 100 questions later, you were called into an exam room, and you sat on the bed in there.
A young man with wire rimmed glasses and light blue hair entered and applied hand sanitizer. “So, my name is Kun Qian. So I’ve checked your questionnaire and your medical history, and I’ve compiled a list of things you are able to participate in.”
He handed you a stack of papers, and on top, there it was.
Project E 2.0
This medication is being tested to treat PCOS and other hormone irregularities.
Side effects include a heightened libido, sensitivity during sex, as well as more intense and stronger orgasms.
You glanced up at Kun, who was clicking his pen. “I’ll just do this one, it seems simple enough.”
Kun sighed, rolling his neck back to crack his neck. “The E one? It’s important for you to know that the side effects of this medication are… strong, to say the least.”
“What, am I going to go feral? It’s fine, just give me the jab.” You laughed, but Kun didn’t respond.
“Yes. The woman who received the 1.0 version was unable to sleep, eat… she couldn’t live a normal life for several weeks because of it. All she was able to do was have sex and be force-fed by her doctor… Well, boyfriend now, I guess.” He pulled off his glasses and looked you in the eye. “I promise, I will be right here, ready to assist you, or anything you may need, but I need to know that you can deal with the pain.”
“Well, when you put it like that… I guess I should learn a bit more first.”
“Do you have a husband or wife? Any significant other that might be able to help?” Kun started to write stuff down on his clipboard.
“Er, I have a roommate?” You fidgeted with the hem of your skirt, unsure of what Kun meant.
Kun exhaled loudly, leaning back in his chair, his annoyance with you obvious. “I meant someone you could have sex with, madam.”
“I have a vibrator?” You laughed, the hairs on your arms standing due to your nerves.
Kun bit his lip. “I think it’s in your best interest to choose another option.”
“Um, but I think this would be the easiest for me… All I have to do is track possible side effects, right? And I can go home?” You flipped through the other studies, ranging from a hypothermia study to a sociology study.
“Well, you’d have to stay here for a week, only so we can see how you’d react… but yes, you can.” Kun clicked his pen against the clipboard. “I’ll give it to you. Let me lead you to your room.
~
It actually wasn’t that bad, considering this was an independent clinic. You had your own bedroom and bathroom, and your roommate sent you clothes for your week stay.
Kun sat on the chair next to your bed, letting you settle in before giving you the shot.
“I’m ready.” You sat on the bed, shuffling over to where Kun was sitting.
“There.” Kun injected it. “I’ll stay with you for the first hour, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. Do you wanna get in bed with me?” You scooched over, letting him in.
“Um…” Kun stood up, sitting down next to you, taking his shoes off before moving to sit next to you.
“So, Doctor, how’s your day going?” You turned on the TV in front of you, switching the channel to some cheesy reality Lifetime show.
“You’re the first person I’ve seen today, so I guess… Good.” Kun inspected your body, from the palms of your hands down to your chest, then your thighs and feet. “So… what made you want to do this?”
“Money?” You glanced at him, noticing how plump his lips were after he bit his bottom lip. “Why does anyone let themselves do something like this?”
“Well, you’re not wrong, I guess.” The palm of his hand pressed against your forehead, trying to feel for your temperature. “Are you feeling okay?”
“It’s only been like… 5 minutes, so I guess I feel the same.” You looked up at Kun, who was now standing up and sliding his shoes back on.
A minute turned to two minutes, two turned to twenty, twenty turned to sixty…
“I want to check something.” Kun grabbed his stethoscope, putting it in his ears and against your heart. “I’ll be back in a minute…”
You just sat there, scrolling through your phone.
And it started. Your back hit the bed’s back board, the heat getting to you. You knew you were going to get horny, but you didn’t know it was going to be this bad…
The heavy wooden door opened again. “Okay, so I wanted to see if-”
“Doctor…” Your voice was so whiny, you hardly knew you could make that kind of tone. “Need you.” You sat on your knees, reaching out for him, lips pouting, drawling out every word. Blood coursed through your veins, your heart beating out of your chest. And you felt all the blood rush to your clit at the sight of Kun.
“Fuck.” Kun pressed the stethoscope back against your chest, and after about 10 seconds he ripped it out of his ears, falling down towards your body, one of his hands on your shoulder, the other on your back. “Come on sweetie, let’s get you in the shower… or something, I…” Kun frantically looked around, his concern for you resulting in a furrowed brow. “Did your roommate bring you anything, a dildo, or…”
“You…” You finally got out a word. “Please, fuck me.” Tears began to well up in your eyes. It truly was a feeling you never felt, it was like you had been edging for days without release.
A million thoughts rushed into Kun's mind all at once. The loudest one being the word pathetic. You were a pathetic, whining mess, begging him for his cock, needing to fuck him. And it made him so hard. Any man would get hard in his situation, he figured. But he knew he had to stay professional, even if it was for a few more minutes. “I… I don’t think I can, I mean, I’m your doctor!” Kun pushed you off him, then slipped your jacket off you, trying to get you to cool down.
You had a ball of the fabric of Kun’s lab coat in your fist. “Please, I need… anyone.”
“Fuck, fuck… I thought Jaemin fixed it… I knew I shouldn’t have fucking trusted him.” Kun bit his lip, half wanting to search the suitcase and dressers in your room, but also knowing he needed to comfort you right now.
“Cum… Cum inside me…” You whined, your head hitting Kun’s chest. You breathed in the thick scent of his cologne. Minty, musky and woody. He smelled so good, and that just made things worse for some reason. It truly felt like you were going feral, like you were turning back to your primal instincts, needing him inside you, his warm release, to be filled up. “Need… you inside me…”
“Come on baby… work with me.” Kun helped you to your feet, leading you into the bathroom. The lock on the door automatically locked behind the two of you. Kun started undressing you as quickly as possible then pushed you into the bathtub. “Tell me if the water’s too cold.” He turned on the water, the cold helping lower your temperature.
“Kun…” You cooed, wrapping an arm around his neck. “Please, fuck me.”
You caught Kun looking at your body, up at your breasts and down to your thighs…
“I’ll, um…” Kun’s hand entered the water, and began to rub your clit, making you immediately reach your climax.
“Doctor!” You cried out. “More, more please!”
“I don’t know, I don’t know how to help you anymore…” Kun mumbled, thinking hard.
“Cock, please…” You whined.
“Fuck…” Kun helped you out of the bathtub and wrapped you in a towel, quickly drying you off then leading you to the bed, bending you over the mattress.
“Cum inside, please, please, please…” You really felt like you were actually going brain dead, the only thing on your mind being Kun’s cock.
And he finally was inside you. You let Kun do whatever he wanted to with your body. You figured he must’ve been pent up, too. The way his cock slammed into your womb, hitting your cervix with ease, letting you know how sore you were going to be tomorrow. His hands made their way into your mouth, both middle and ring fingers hooking into your cheeks, stretching your lips horizontally, making you drool, tongue sticking out on its own.
He was rough, nothing like the shy boy he was two seconds ago, who didn’t even know if he should be fucking you. It was like a flip switched in his brain, like he was just pretending to be kind so his cock would feel even better when it went inside you…
“Doctor, please be gentler!” You felt like you were melting on his dick, so hot and so hard…
“I don’t want to.” His hands moved to your neck, wrapping around your neck, choking you until you were unable to breathe.
“Cumming!” You screamed out, hitting your second climax.
You felt your womb filling up with Kun’s cum before he pulled out.
He picked you up and laid you back down. “Do you feel better?”
You nodded, sitting up, covering yourself with the blanket.
“Good. I’ll be back with your dinner.” Kun slid his pants back up then left.
~
And after about 30 minutes you felt like a bitch in heat all over again.
“Dinner.” Kun entered again after 45 minutes, catching you with your fingers inside yourself. “Jesus Christ…” He sighed, slamming the tray onto the nearest table.
“Doctor…” You whimpered, hoping he would fuck your again.
“You’re so… pathetic. And whiny.” Kun ran his hands through your hair, then grabbed your hand, pulling your fingers out of yourself and licking your juices off. He stood at the foot of the bed, grabbing your foot to pull you down and began to lick your clit.
And again, you practically immediately reached your high…
Kun wiped his face, your cum on his nose and lips. “Do you feel better?”
You shook your head. “Cum…” You whined. “Please?”
Kun facepalmed, sighing. “Ride me.” He sat on the couch in your room.
You slid off your bed and sat on Kun’s lap, facing away from him, lining his cock into you.
“You know, it’ll hurt more if you take it slow. Put it in all at once.” Kun his hand on your waist, stabilizing you.
“I know!” You whined, shoving it in. “Fuck!”
“Hm? Is that it?” Kun’s tone became more mocking than annoyed. “Do I have to do everything for you?” His arm went under your knees, fucking you under you.
“You’re in too deep, Doctor!” You cried out. You felt like Kun was in your womb. “You’re not gonna be able to pull out!”
“Don’t think.” Kun instructed.
And you did as told, letting your brain melt into nothingness other than the feeling of Kun’s cock inside you. You probably wouldn’t be able to recall your own name…
That was, until Kun’s cum flowed inside you again, bringing you into your own orgasm.
Kun dropped you back onto his lap, your arms wrapping around his neck and your head fell onto his chest.
~
You woke up still on Kun’s lap.
“How long-”
Kun cut you off. “45 minutes. It’s fine.” But really, the entire left side of Kun’s body was numb.
You nodded.
“So, what did you think?” Kun asked you as you climbed off his lap and back onto your own bed.
“It was… good. Amazing, actually, I’ve never felt so good…” You started dreaming about getting stuffed full of Kun’s cum all over again…
“I was talking about the medicine, but thanks for rating my dick.” Kun scoffed, getting up to give you your dinner.
“Oh. Not as fun.” You watched Kun.
“I, um… was thinking that you could live with me and help me test the rest of the iterations of the medication.” Kun hooked you back up to the blood pressure monitor.
“Maybe.” You took a bite of the dinner. “But I’ll say yes if it means I can keep having sex with you.
“You can keep having sex with me even when you stop being my patient.”
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Hello! I’m grateful you wrote my request and this is in no way me complaining, I only want to answer what you said about accuracy and all. I’m well aware than npd is not well researched so I’m putting this more so as a way to give you more insight than complain about your portrayal, I’m chill with it. Sorry for the long message. It’s kinda hard putting this stuff into words, but I want to bc I’ve seen one too many posts about all ppl with npd needing to be ‚separated from the society, put down or castrated to stop their kind from spreading’ so I’m not about to waste an opportunity to put out a different perspective. If you don’t want to publically respond I’m chill with that, this is just some info for you if you wanna know more
I really resonated with the part where you said Toby loves like a dog because that’s also the metaphor I use to explain npd. Bc it kinda feels like you’re a dog, you love like one certainly. It feels like you were raised for cagefights. They taught you when you need to bite to survive and get a pat on the back. Taught you that if you didn’t, things get ugly for you. Taught you that everybody is a threat. You have never been prepared to read emotions because surviving and winning were always synonymous and both consumed your youth too much to genuinely learn social clues. And maybe, now you’re out of that place. And suddenly you’re expected to be a good dog, to love and be soft and kind. But the best you can do is act and frantically look around the room for a sign of a threat, because at this point you expects to be hurt. Sometimes you still bite. You know how to fight for your life but you flinch when someone wants to hug you. You’re mean and bitter at heart because as far as you know anyone could hurt you for any mistake you make. Showing weaknesses is out of the question, so you put on a mask. You need to be the best and to be perfect because you know what happened when you weren’t. You hate yourself for every mistake and see that as a life-or-death threat. You seek patterns to be safe and you learn to respond well to things without knowing why you should perform a certain way. You remember that when you used to make a wrong step, it was hell for you. And it’s hard to make a connection when you fear everybody hurting you. When you can’t grasp why anybody would keep you around if you’re not benefitting them. So you act like you’re great and hope that people believe you enough to think you’re worth having around
When I met my roommate in the school dorms I really liked her. A few weeks into knowing her, she started giving me food and trinkets. And many times, though I acted with all the gratitude that I always had to show and I did all the things you’re supposed to do, I felt lost. Because I wasnt very useful to her. She had no benefit from giving me things. Shamefully, I do admit I sat there alone tearing up at a chocolate bar or two that she left for me because it felt so confusingly nice(?) and I still don’t know why she does it. But of course I know (by observation) that people are uncomfortable when others question things like that. So I don’t, I just try to be useful and hope she decides I’m convenient to have (a ‚pleasure to have in class’ of sorts)
With manipulation it’s hard to say how much of it is true because most of the diagnostics were based off of male case studies and generally when the label of ‚npd’ has been slapped on someone, most things they do are seen as kind of evil. I know I do avoid conflict and use my words to my advantage if I feel threatened, yeah. Just yesterday had a friend getting progressively more heated at me (we have very different opinions on things as it turned out) and I did subtly framed it as ‚I thought you were more mature than that, it’s really childish to blow up on me’ bc I know he feels like the group doesn’t treat him seriously. Is it good? Maybe not, but a threat is a threat and I’m not about find out what he does when he gets really angry lol
As to the ‚look at me, I’m the best’ kind of thing, you have to put yourself first because you’ve been put last by everyone else. In a sense, it really does feel like fighting for your life and then being thrown into a setting where nobody had that growing up so you feel like you need to act like them and count days before everything turns ugly again because it’s hard to believe most people aren’t cruel and dangerous. That’s all you’ve known and all you prepared for
So you have a hard time forming honest connections. You feel like an empty shell and discard your smile as soon as you’re through the door. You’re tired. And you don’t know how to act in this new world. So you still do what you need to survive, despite everyone telling you that it’s not about that anymore
Like, ofc I have some personality. I know I like making music and enjoy a quiet evening. I know others tell me I’m fun at parties, funny, charming. Sometimes it’s hard to tell what is me and what is my survival instinct kicking in though. The way I see it, the modern mirror of Narcissus is in other people’s eyes. And I just try to do anything to keep seeing admiration instead of hatred in them
To be fair I feel like that would work (somewhat) with the creeps, because they aren't super well either and someone who can see patterns in their behavior (how they act when something is wrong etc) could work better bc I don't see then opening up and talking about feelings either. Sure, all those things kinda suggest that they could also mentally destroy me if they wanted (but I would let them bc I love them, especially your portrayal of ben 😌😌). Also I heve a feeling BEN is the kind of guy to show you gore videos for fun and talk about tormenting others for funsies so inability to emotionally connect with others would probably make it easier to enjoy yourself around him lmao idk about others probably trauma bonding would work?? Lol
-⭐︎
HELLO?? I FUCKING LOVE THE WAY YOU DESCRIBE THINGS OH MY GOD I'll try to respond to every point in this message because I really like it and thank you for reaching out so often I love when people interact with me :) literally get so excited once I see that little star emoji at the end of requests because I know it's you lol. I mostly based the headcanons off of people on Quora (other than more research on different sites) since it's people with said disorder talking about personal experiences and other people who don't have npds' interaction with people who do have it.
I fucking love when people use the dog metaphors for toby when writing him.
I agree on the point that some creeps would have this, Jeffrey comes to mind, I feel like a lot brush him off as an evil person but I see it as a sort of defense mechanism for him? I can definitely see Jeff relating to this for sure.
IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKE MY PORTRAYAL OF BEN X3 and that's so true I literally mentioned it in one of my headcanons like that stinky fucker would show you gore and legit go 'its not even that bad' when you start freaking out. Definitely pops up those videos on your devices randomly. He's so annoying I love him.
One thing I don't like about creepypasta headcanons that revolve around the reader having a personality disorder is the creators make them act so...nice? Like I know that's what people want to read but let's be honest these serial killers never experienced a day of comfort in their lives, I genuinely don't see them being all that nice about it unless it's more of the kinder creeps like Liu or Jane or Nina but even then they'd be awkward about it. The most they'd do is notice (unless you straight up tell them) and that's it. I wouldn't say they would straight up fucking degrade you for having a disorder but I don't see them caring because they're all traumatized, I don't see them sympathizing with reader so yeah that's something that kinda bugs me in creepypasta headcanons.
#♡˖꒰nymphette answers#divider by pommecita#creepypasta#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta fandom#creepypasta headcanon#headcanon#x reader#ticci toby x reader#ticci toby#ben drowned x reader#ben drowned creepypasta#clockwork x reader#clockwork creepypasta#clockwork
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Good morning! It’s Ari, again.
I might drop by to DM sometime, but since I’m about to work, I didn’t want to be rude and just DM/start a conversation to throw questions at you and run off lol I’d rather DM to get to know someone if that makes sense. I thought it might be more appropriate to drop little questions here if any really drive me nuts while I’m reading your blog in the meantime.
If I ever ask anything you don’t want to share, feel free to say so! I’m trying to understand what I’ve read you say about finding your path yourself and avoiding echo chambers when you should be learning from the Divine, so I’m gonna try to limit my questions, but between my having ADHD, anxiety, and just generally being kind of detail-oriented, I still find myself fixated on specific details a lot
So with that ramble out of the way (sorry, I’m kinda long-winded, I’m sure you noticed in my email lol) my actual question(s) for today!:
(I see how long this got, so for a summary, this jumble of questions is about the likenesses of Deities you mention putting on altars)
In your first post about altar creation, I saw you say one of the things you need is a likeness of the Deity you’re making it for. It might be a silly question, but what really counts as a “likeness”? Is it just anything made with the intention of being His likeness? Or are we supposed to make an intuitive guess? I could see maybe going by personal UPG, but assuming we’re just starting out and not confident in anything like that, trying to make the altar to connect in the first place, I’m wondering how we know what we’re looking for.
Since I’m not able to practice openly at home, but my family knows I was a bigger fan of Hiddleston Loki than the MCU itself, I was thinking of finding a good/affordable figure of MCU Loki. So if the owner of the household rifles through my things, as she’s prone to do, and she finds a candle, a marvel figure and a couple of (to her) random things in a box, she’s more likely to think it’s just a box of knickknacks. But I’m afraid this will be seen as some kind of joke, I don’t want to be too familiar, in case I’ve been wrong about my connecting to Him so far.
Final thought- do Deities even really have human-looking appearances? I see Loki appearing differently to different people, especially as a shapeshifter, but is it really a thing that any of Them look a certain way? Like I’ve read you talk about meeting Him face-to-face when He has possessed people in front of you, and how He’s your roommate/in-and-out-of-your-body way of being with you now. But is there a way you “see” Him? And is that a way He’s appeared to you, in a dream or meditation or something, or is it just kinda a creative idea of how He looks?
Sorry for the length, and any errors! I’d stop to edit it down and fix run-on sentences, but I’m already kinda late starting work (oops). So I hope you have a good day! Hopefully I’ll have time to actually chat this weekend, if you’re open to that!
Hi Ari!
You're totally fine. I love answering questions so give me what you got and I can do my best to further clarify for you. And also, I am ADHD so I 100% understand the need for detail-oriented clarification. My numerous questions is how I got to where I am today because I would ask Loki so many things about how stuff works so I can better grasp the nature of the concept. I am more than delighted to share what I've learned, how it works, and why it's been successful and that's kind of the point of my being here.
My answers are also really long-winded and mostly because I have a lot of knowledge and experiences and very few places to share it so bear with me.
So, in regards to the likeness question, I would say anything that is made with the intention of it being the Deity in question would be the best point of reference. However, it doesn't necessarily mean it has to be an obvious representation, just something that is synonymous with Their energy. Like, if you had a candle vaguely in the shape of the Deity in question or a clay model, a doll, or a picture that reminds you of Them, that also works. The purpose is to draw the energy of that particular Deity into the shrine which means you would need to "open the door" to both sides. Like, the Deity would need to know it is for Them as well as you so you can look at it and go, "ah, yes, that is the God in question." You would think They wouldn't care because They know your heart and your intention, but it is easiest when the object is designed with the God in mind.
That being said, I personally had MCU Loki on my altar for a year or two when I first began, knowing Loki probably was aware of my situation and that I needed to be closeted until I had my own place to live. I don't think it would necessarily be a problem if you have Tom Hiddleston instead of Loki Himself. When I got my own place, I got Him a statue carved out of wood and quite a bit of art by various artists I've found who I think draw Him really well.
The whole debate about whether or not Loki cares for MCU Loki itself is complex and I can possibly get into that in more detail if anyone is ever interested. But based on my experiences with Him, He has indicated that no, He doesn't really care for it to be on your shrine. It's fine if that's what you need to be conspicuous. He only really seems to care if you don't ask Him if it's okay. The point, I think, He wants to make is that by asking Him His opinion, He will make it okay because you gave Him your reasoning and didn't just assume. Which makes sense considering a shrine is a Deity's possession and not a devotee's after the point of making it a shrine. So, as long as you're asking His permission to use it on His shrine, I think that's absolutely clear with Him.
I cannot speak for Him, but I sincerely doubt He would ever wish to put you in the way of any danger when it comes to His shrine being made. However, I know Him to be very possessive of His belongings and prefers giving His consent with certain things. If you invite Him when creating a shrine, He will more than likely give you a sense of what you need to be doing for Him and whether or not it's okay. If you don't trust that, using a pendulum, flipping a coin, or other "yes/no" random generators are helpful. I wouldn't worry too much that you are afraid of insulting Him just because you don't have an option.
Just don't ask Him multiple times the same question because that's when He starts giving false answers. It can get aggravating but typically He doesn't like having only one-sided answers and would prefer to say both "yes" and "no" because He tends to swing both ways when talking about the nature of Himself as well as the Gods since it's never only ever just one single way.
I think He does mind Tom Hiddleston being used as His likeness if you have no reason to hide your shrine and if you don't ask His permission to so so He may say "no" but then "yes" later on given His consent and an explanation of your reasoning.
Now, I don't know your situation, obviously, and there's no reason for you to get into more detail about it to some random stranger on the internet but I will point out that having a shrine is a lot less obvious than you would think. People won't know what they are looking at if they are not pagan. I kept my shrine on my desk for the years I was closeted and my ex who was an atheist as well as my Christian parents did not know what they were looking at unless I specifically told them what it was. Even then, they were confused. I think unless the people you live with know what a pagan is or what a shrine should be, you likely are going to be fine even if they go through your belongings.
I recommend keeping it in a shoe box somewhere or an even smaller box that's tucked away somewhere no one will get to it even if they are looking. It's probably for the best regardless because it would keep other energy from getting to it that would be less than savory and could interrupt the energetic transaction between Loki and yourself.
Also, in regards to appearances, no, Loki does not have a physical appearance whatsoever. He is energy and energy does not have a form that we can see clearly with our two eyes. He likes to call Himself an "orb of light" and that He "floats around all day and does not do much of anything on this physical plane except wait around for stuff to happen."
I have seen Him manifest physically before but it is not human-like nor is it remotely something that is a common occurrence. It looks like glimmers of golden light that shines in the corner of my eye and flashes before it can ever be seen fully. My cats see Him all the time, actually, and watch as He zooms around the apartment and plays with them since cats have a keener sense of vision than we do.
So, no, He does not have any actual human-like qualities. However, it is my understanding that the way we perceive Him is translated by various triggers in our brain. Just like how we visualize a person as they are described that we haven't seen before, Loki essentially has a means to assist people with seeing Him who may have trouble recognizing who He is so He gives a common appearance. He's explained to me that when it's important for someone to know who they are looking at, He will appear to them as a lanky ginger with long red hair, golden eyes and pointed ears. But if it's not, then He can show up as anyone He wants to in any way.
So I suppose it's both the way He wants to be seen and also our own brains piecing together visuals that He triggers and we conceptualize as vaguely human but very obviously not given the amount of energy that resonates off of Him. So it's both intentional that He looks the same way to a lot of people while also being intentional when He doesn't. Regardless of where, how, and why He manifests, though, He feels the exact same way all the time and you'll know who He is just by being in His presence. So, I suppose, also, it doesn't truly matter about what He looks like on your shrine.
I hope that answers your questions (probably more info than you ever asked for) but I'm always open to clarifying things here and otherwise and that goes with anyone who stumbles on my blog. That's why I'm here. Also, yes, please DM whenever you want! I love meeting people. It's my favorite. Talking about this shit is my jam.
#anon ask#deity work#shrine#lokean#norse pagan#devotional polytheism#pagan blog#deity worship#paganblr#norse paganism
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Rereading the ACD Canon and My Reactions: A Study in Scarlet Part 1 (Spoilers)
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Chapter 1
-I always keep forgetting that John was a soldier as well as an army doctor.
-I don't really remember if Stamford comes back in another story, but I hope so.
-Hints of Sherlock Holmes; also, I find it relatable because I literally can't convince my sister to help me buy a PS5.
-"I should prefer having a partner to being alone." *me being lonely sometimes* Okay, I see you as a friend now; please be real and be my friend.
-So basically, Sherlock is weird, has fixations, and is beating the subjects in the dissecting rooms with a stick. Guys, I think he has ADHD or neurodivergent disorder (source: I have ADHD).
-Okay, I know this guy is supposed to be a brilliant scientist, but when Stamford and John met Sherlock, he was screaming, "I’ve found it! I’ve found it!". I find that adorable and delightful; I don't know why.
-Sherlock is me when I meet people I like, handshakes and all.
-He also laughs in this; modern adaptations rarely make him laugh, so I was shocked (I read the Canon when I was younger).
-Sherlock is dragging John around to ramble about hyperfixation.
-He even claps when his experiment works.
-Just go along with it; I like pointing out details.
-John describes him as having sparkly eyes. Are you sure you just want a roommate?
-I swear, I find it adorable when Sherlock holds out his hand like a kid, saying he has a cool scar.
-Stamford is just third-wheeling.
-Sherlock just listed all his cons, and John is already down for him and just accepts his flaws, like a good "roommate/best friend".
-Stamford basically says, "Dude, you're his roommate; you figure him out."
Chapter 2
-Roommate montage!
-Sherlock is an early worm.
-Oh yeah, I forgot he does drugs like cocaine and uses it for stimulation (I use Ritalin for my ADHD).
-There is an entire paragraph of John describing Sherlock (I know he's the POV, but it seems romantic).
-John: Dude. The solar system!
-Sherlock: Is it useful for me? No!
-Oh no, Sherlock could be a flat-earther (joke). But honestly, I relate to not learning stuff because I don't find it interesting or useful.
-John judged him a lot on his list, lol.
-Then burn it down. I laughed at this part; don't judge me.
-Wow, John Watson, that was mean of you to call Lestrade like that.
-I wonder if Mrs. Hudson acts like a mom when people come over to the flat sometimes.
-John, that was rude. Be nice to your landlady.
-OMG, he said "Elementary."!
-In other words, he does freelance work.
-That makes sense.
-Edgar Allen Poe exists in this universe; did anyone make a crossover with that?
-Okay, he does have a pipe, so one of my memories has been validated.
-Imagine if Sherlock was in Twitter discussions; I would pay to see that.
-John believes in his ability now, and I also want to know how he found out about the Marine's thing.
Chapter 3
-Rude... Oh, he apologized.
-OG! Holmes is freaking likeable (and did I mention he's chill? I am jealous of John because I want a friend like him too!).
-From the previous chapter, I will thank him for his explanation.
-He just likes getting compliments, that's for sure.
-Mystery time (I actually forgot how this actually went out, but I'm just going to read on; I miss Liam).
-Gregson is always on the short end of the stick when it comes to adaptations.
-Think about Lestrade and Gregson in dresses fighting each other; it's funny.
-I'm going to solve a case; I got John Watson as my partner." GOD, MY BBC PHASE!
-Opposite of BBC Sherlock, hmm...
-I got reminded of Light Yagami for the second time there.
-Hi Gregson, great to see you!
-I know about the cab thing (I said I don't 'exactly' remember).
-Oh yeah, he was not framed here (William James Moriarty, I still miss you).
-Yeah, that makes sense. Second individual because of poison.
-Wait, did they check for struggles?
-*flashbacks to a Study in Pink* Oh god, is it the ring thing where it was thought that the victim got around?
-How did I remember that? Also, scarlet reminds me of Liam.
-For some reason, I imagined this scene to be funny in my head.
-EGAD! RACHE!
-I remember that the killer did it because of the size of the finger and the font thing.
-Rache means revenge; then it was a man because of the dust and the footprints. Yay, I remembered poison as the cause of death.
-Boom, mic drop!
Chapter 4
-He wrote a book about cigarette ashes too.
-Haha, there goes John again, winning his roommate's heart.
-Is it wrong that I have a mental image of Sherlock running outside excitedly so he can see a case whenever they go out?
-Sherlock Holmes, please stop giving the man heart attacks.
-Horseman. The whip for a cabby!
-Oh yeah, the red string of faith that's it's called 'A Study in Scarlet'.
-Sherliam has killed my brain cells.
Chapter 5
-Yeah, you do, Watson. I hope the victim dies in Hell, though.
-Was he joking about the astronomy thing?
-*flashbacks to Moriarty the Patriot* I miss Fred.
-Chase scene!!!
-Fred Porlock, is that you?
Chapter 6
-Baker Street Irregulars!
-Yeah, I want to know how they met.
-Seriously, I want to see Gregson in more adaptations.
-I also kept this part short because I was too busy reading everything to think.
-Also interesting.
Chapter 7
-It was ironic that Karma from the MTP soundtrack played when I read about the body.
-Did I ever mention that I love Holmes' enthusiasm?
-I got another flashback at Yuumori when red string was mentioned again.
-Poor doggo!
-I realized something, J. H. stands for Jefferson Hope.
-Yeah, I knew it!
-So, there is no epic fight at the church where Hope reveals his benefactor?
-I miss Liam again.
#acd canon#rereading acd canon#thoughts#mentions of yuumori#sherlock holmes#john watson#a study in scarlet#moriarty the patriot#bbc sherlock#mentions
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Hey! Here for the character ask! Idk who you like most (The Mad Hatter or The Riddler) sooo choose whoever you want to answer for! Or do both if you feel like it! Why do you like them, would you be able to be roomates with them, and the freebie question: how do you think you'd do on a relationship with them? <3
Hahaha Riddler will always be like...the inciting reason why I fell in love with Batman and the other Rogues, but I'll definitely do both cause I do...love them both...a lot lol and I'll do the BTAS versions cause those were the ones I was introduced to and are the best lol
Gets lengthy so it's under a "Read More" tab:
BTAS Riddler:
Why do you like or dislike this character?
God...I love Eddie for quite a few reasons, especially this version because he's extremely charismatic but also see moments where he's out of his depth (i.e. flirting). We see more than just the vengeful, prideful Eddie, we see a coy Eddie, playful and clever! He's one of the few, if not only Riddler I feel like I could approach and I'll be okay and not die. To have Eddie be a game developer and creator, I can definitely sympathize with him and what happens to him.
9. Could you be roommates with this character?
Oh I...I don't know lol. As much as I wanna say like omg yes, a part of me feels like being a roommate with him would be super helpful and interesting (he can help with any tech issues and it would be cool to see him work on stuff) but I don't think it would work just cause I have a feeling he'd be a bit of a stickler and I don't think I'll be smart enough for his games to be able to "properly test them" lol
26. Freebie Question: How do you think you'd do in a relationship with them?
I want to think that a relationship with him would be great. I can see him being a sweet and thoughtful partner. As long as he doesn't get bored of me or doesn't think I'm smart enough. Again, he's one of the few Riddlers that I wouldn't fear for my life, so I can see a relationship with him definitely being like easier to have and manage lol.
BTAS Mad Hatter:
Why do you like or dislike this character?
I like him because aside from Secret Six, BTAS is one of my favorite interpretations of the Mad Hatter. He's intelligent, charming and pitiful. It's easy to feel sorry for him and be intrigued by him! (but also be fully aware that he was in the wrong and definitely should learn to respect boundaries and take no for an answer...)
9. Could you be roommates with this character?
I think I maybe could be roommates with Jervis. I would like to think I could definitely help him with the rejection of Alice. I know that I'd finally try tea properly and would love it only when he makes it. I think it would be nice.
26. Freebie Question: How do you think you'd do in relationship with them?
I think a relationship with Jervis would be a lot of fun. Jervis will be an doting, thoughtful, loving, and caring partner. Definitely would make you feel like the main character in your two's love story.
Send Me A Character and a Question and I'll Answer!
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Happy Valentine’s Day ratsoh :) I have a request for a Matchup for my babygirl Charlotte!
She’s 23 and currently working at a bank but her dream job is something involved with fashion history. Charlotte is soft spoken and generally prefers to hang back and keep to herself except around people she’s very close with. She lives on a property with a few different houses with her family (immediate and more distant) she’s very patient and detail oriented, and tends to be very understanding and forgiving. On the flip side she can be a bit of a pushover, especially around stronger personalities, and generally won’t stand up for herself until she’s reached her limit.
Aside from fashion history, she’s a big foodie and likes cooking, going out to eat, etc. she’s curious and open about learning and trying new things as long as she gets enough time to herself in between. She’s also good at building and fixing things (assigned furniture assembler), and very good at math- she’s the kind of friend people ask for help when filing their taxes
She’s the oldest of 5 kids and has younger half siblings from 19-7 years old, but the family living together is around 30(?) people. Her family is important to her and while her SO certainly doesn’t need to be around them all the time (and she’s open to moving away from them so long as it isn’t super far away), she’d still want to feel comfortable bringing them around each other and not having to worry about it if she isn’t there to supervise the whole time. Similarly, she’s pretty introverted and while someone who is very outgoing isn’t a deal breaker she wouldn’t do very well with someone who is constantly taking her out of her comfort zone.
She doesn’t have a lot of strong preferences, she has a partial preference for people taller than her (she’s 5’7) but it’s not a very strong one. Her partner also being detail oriented is a pretty big plus bc details are so important to her. I think she’d appreciate confidence, whether is more boldness and bravado or a quiet self assurance, she’d subconsciously drift more towards those kinds of people.
Her general aesthetic leans more towards light colors and flips around between historical, country cute, elegant, and girlish depending on the day. She’s almost always carrying a sewing kit , notebook, and her multitool pocket knife with her, and she’s got shared ownership over a pair of pet doves with her cousin/best friend/ roommate Lenore. The doves are her babies
Anyways , I hope this wasn’t too much or too little. Thanks ratsoh! Your writing always brightens my day <3
Lovely character description! Anyways Charlotte has very specific needs. She needs someone who’s confident but observant enough to realize when they push to hard. And a family lover of course! So after searching for those requirements, I decided to match her with ….. SALT! Lustswap papyrus!
Salt has a type. That is very obvious if you look at all his exes. He’s attracted to this shy softies. He loves bringing them out of their shells. Over time he became quite good at reading people’s body language and expressions to tell their comfort levels. Salt is a great choice as someone who can give Charlotte the confidence to be adventurous while still being restrained enough to feel secure to her.
Salt is 100% extroverted and would do well in a large family setting. Picking him means that there’s no need for Charlotte to move away if she doesn’t want to. He’ll blend in well with the group, and become the annoying uncle with dirty jokes the kids don’t understand lol. Every family needs one of those after all lol
Salt is a professional makeup artist! So while it’s not the same field as clothing design, it’s still very similar. Salt is someone who needs to keep up with trends in order to keep his job relevant. He’s someone that Charlotte can always talk to about her passion, and he’ll be able to keep up just fine
Charlotte should be warned though, salt is a lust monster lol. So she’s gonna have her hands full with him ;). And maybe a few kids down the line. He’s a family guy, and while he can go without, he does hope that his future partner would want one or two someday
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