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adamsrcnan · 11 months

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Jeremy organising a puppy therapy session for all the trojans bc keeping team spirits up outside of exy is important ! and also puppies are cute. Jean is reluctant to go of course but Jeremy asked nicely and lowkey threatened to cancel all team practice for a week, so he kind of has to go. They get to the puppy room and all the trojans run in cooing loudly and excessively at all the puppies. Laila is grinning like a fool somehow already carrying like 5 puppies in her arms at once.

Jeremy gets a little distracted by all the cute chaos surrounding him he doesn't notice Jean has moved away from the group into a corner. He turns around searching ready to try coax Jean into joining the ever growing pile of puppies and trojans scrambling over each other in the middle of the room. He stops short when he catches sight of Jean sitting cross legged on the floor his hand out stretched to a beautiful chocolate lab that's cautiously sniffing his hand. It bumps it's little nose against Jean's fingers before slowly climbing into his lap.

Both the puppy and Jean are staring at each other like they're communicating in some secret language. Jeremy wonders what Jean sees when looking at the little pup in his lap. Jean gently scratches the puppy's head and behind it's ears, the corners of his mouth lifting into a soft smile as the puppy closes it's eyes basking in Jean's touch. Jeremy's heart swells watching this insanely adorable interaction, proud of himself for making it happen.

More puppies start to notice Jean in the corner and start breaking off to go zooming towards him. One bumps it's little head against his knee and Jeremy watches, his own smile growing, as Jean scoops the pupper off the floor and gently rubs it's head where it hit his knee. Jeans lips are just barely moving as he softly whispers something in french to the little ball of fur, before placing it onto his thigh and rubbing its back. Jeremy doesn't know what he said but he definitely knows it's a stark contrast to how he scoffs at his team mates fumbling on the court at practice.

Soon Jean is surrounded by puppies and smiling and laughing softly at all his new little friends. Jeremy finally gets a grip and makes his way over to Jean and the puppies. They get excited wagging their tails and bumping into his ankles as he approaches. They swarm over him as soon as he takes a seat. He's busy cooing over the puppies and when he glances back up at Jean, Jean is once again softly petting the little chocolate lab who has now fallen asleep in his lap. Jeremy hesitates before asking "Not so bad hey?" trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest when Jean shyly looks at him, a smile still on his face, and softly says "No, not at all."

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dandelion-wings · 3 months

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AU where I parent-trap Kaeya and Jean with a dog

(Kaeya befriends this stray dog as a kid, and then some asshole hurts it and runs it off and Jean finds Kaeya searching for it, helps him find it and carries it to the Cathedral for him. while it's getting healed and Kaeya is hovering over it, finds her dad the Seneschal to get him to let Master Crepus know, because Kaeya never asks for things but he deserves this dog he cares about. the dog lives the high life up until the fight, and when Kaeya leaves the Dawn Winery he asks Jean to keep it just for a little while, until he turns 18 and can move out of the barracks and find a place to live. but no apartment he can find accepts pets. Jean is fine with keeping it, so Kaeya just visits a lot, and they bond over dog care. and then the dog is dognapped-)

#this is an au of another au I'm probably never writing but that context isn’t actually necessary here #the dog's name is anfortas btw. nicknamed fort #jean and kaeya run this city

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theragethatisdesire · 10 months

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scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!

hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!

beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol

pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader

wc: 9.1k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)

have fun ;)

This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.

“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”

“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.

“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”

“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.

“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”

“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”

You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”

He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.

You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.

You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.

It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.

When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”

“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.

You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”

“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”

You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”

If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.

As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”

“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.

“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.

“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.

“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.

Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.

“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”

“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.

“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”

You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–

“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.

“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”

“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.

“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”

You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.

“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.

The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.

“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.

“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”

The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.

“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.

“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.

Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.

“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”

One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”

Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”

Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”

Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.

“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”

“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.

Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.

You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.

“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.

“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”

“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”

“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”

Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”

“Sasha–”

“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”

“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”

“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.

You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.

Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren��s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.

You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?

He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.

“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.

His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–

Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.

The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.

“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.

“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.

Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.

“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”

“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.

Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.

“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”

“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.

A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”

“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”

Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”

“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”

“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.

“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”

“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.

A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.

Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.

“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”

“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”

“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.

He spits directly in Eren’s face.

Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.

“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.

“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.

“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”

You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.

“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.

“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.

He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.

Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.

Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.

“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”

“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.

“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”

No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”

You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.

“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.

Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.

“What the hell was that, Eren?”

He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.

“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”

“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.

“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”

“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.

Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”

“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.

Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”

“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”

Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”

“You’re my–”

“The other thing.”

“I needed you.”

“Again.”

“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”

He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”

“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.

“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”

Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.

“Do you still?”

“Still?”

“Need me.”

You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”

“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”

You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.

“I still need you. Now.”

Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.

“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”

A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.

His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”

You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”

Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.

Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.

Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.

“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.

“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.”

Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.

“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”

Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin.

“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”

“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.

“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”

A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.

“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”

“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.

“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”

Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.

He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.

Eren chuckles. “You need something?”

“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.

“You want me to stop fucking with you?”

“Please, Eren, I need you–”

“That’s all you had to say.”

And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.

Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.

“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.

“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.

“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“I need– fuck– I need more.”

“Magic word?”

“Please, Eren, fuck!”

“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”

Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.

“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it.

“Close?”

“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”

“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”

Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–

“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”

The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.

“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”

He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch.

“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”

Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”

You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”

You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”

Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.

Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.

“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”

“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”

You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.

“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”

“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”

You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.

And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.

“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”

You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.

“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”

“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”

“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.

Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.

You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.

“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”

You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.

Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.

You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.

“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”

“He’s not my-”

“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.

You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”

Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.

“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”

You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.

“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”

“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”

“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.

“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”

You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.

“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.

“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”

You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”

He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.

It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.

“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.

“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”

That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”

“Maybe he wants to apologize.”

Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”

“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.

Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.

“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”

There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.

“I just–”

“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”

You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”

“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”

Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”

“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.

“You might have me there.”

“Better than horseface?”

“Watch it.”

The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”

“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.

“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”

“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.

He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”

#aot x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren x you #eren yaeger x you #eren yeager smut #aot fanfiction #eren jaeger fic #eren jaeger fanfiction

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suguann · 1 month

Text

He has a feeling that the new girl running the front desk at the gym is going to be a problem—a distraction disguised in a gym uniform polo and khaki pants.

It starts with you smiling too brightly as he walks in one morning, all teeth and that little twinkle in your eye that feels like trouble when you scan his membership card.

“Good morning, Mr. Riley.”

“It’s just Simon,” he tells you as he takes his card off the counter.

The following day, it’s the same, except Johnny is there to make it worse.

He nudges Simon with his elbow. “She’s kinda pretty, huh?”

“Say it any louder, and she’ll hear you, mate,” he grumbles.

Simon’s not blind; of course, he knows you’re pretty, but he doesn’t have time to commit to anything outside of work—even if you smile at him like you’re happy to see him and how he’ll think about it later: on missions, at his desk, during morning runs. His head is nothing short of woven webs with thoughts of you stuck in the middle.

Honestly, it’s that you—

(You try to make small talk with him every morning, and Simon is starting to think it’s just for him because on the days he doesn’t come alone, you merely scan his card and go back to reading the open paperback book on the desk.)

It’s weird because it’s almost like you—

(He bumps into you at the supermarket and makes a dumb joke about carrots that makes you laugh. It makes him a little tongue-tied and awkward afterward because he realizes he hasn’t talked to a woman outside of only wanting a quick fuck in a really long time, but more importantly, he wants to hear it again.

Instead, he tosses potatoes in his cart and walks away.)

He tells himself it means nothing, or not how Simon wants it to.

You’re just…he’s not even sure; acquaintances? Maybe more than that, but less than friends. Somewhere in that odd in-between phase where he only knows bits and pieces but not the whole picture.

Sometimes, he wishes—

(Simon doesn’t know what he’s doing the first time he invites you to meet the guys from work on a night out. He’s dated around a few times and had his fair share of hook-ups, but this isn’t like that. His palms are sweaty, more than usual, and no amount of wiping them on the thighs of his jeans keeps them dry.

Then you walk into the bar in a dress that’s probably too light for early spring in London—even though he stares appreciatively at the long expanse of your legs as you walk up to the table—and he wishes he wasn’t introducing you as his friend.)

But you—

(A new development happens after you slip him your phone number on one of the gym’s business cards—it’s weird that we don’t have each other’s numbers, so message me sometime or whatever—and he messages you ‘hey’ right before he leaves for a mission a few days later.

It slowly shifts and changes over time.

You start sending him texts in the morning. Never an actual good morning text, but of the dogs you take on walks, the sunrise, the new flower box in your window. Somehow, it’s better.)

You really are—

(His house feels too hot, and he’s distracted from the movie by how close you are, how your leg drapes over his under the blanket, fingers fisting into his sweater at his stomach that clenches. An ache that grows, throbbing, spreading from his abdomen to his groin.

It feels monumental—something more than the gentle touch to the elbow to squeeze by each other in his entryway earlier or giving you his jacket that night at the bar—a tilt of the axis that makes the messy pieces fall neatly into place.

He must be staring because you glance up at him, smiling, and the sound from the TV turns into white noise in the background.

“Can I…would you—fucking hell,” Simon runs a hand through his hair. “Can I kiss you?”

When your lips press against his, and his hands are pulling you onto his lap, where you settle hotly against his dick tenting in his jeans, he wonders why neither of you has done this before. Just kissing—him licking the seam of your mouth, and you panting his name.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you mumble, lips brushing his.

“Me too,” and he fists his hand into the hair at your nape and pulls you back to his mouth.)

“I knew you’d be trouble,” he tells you one day, glaring at the bloke further down the bar who tried making a swipe at your ass before Simon showed up, towering over his shoulder with your fruity cocktail in hand.

“Oh, yeah?” you giggle, leaning into his side.

“Yeah,” the corners of his mouth quirk, though he hides it when he presses a kiss against your temple. “A real pain in my ass, love.”

“But yours.”

This time, he does smile. “Yes, but mine.”

Masterlist

#simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost imagine #simon riley fluff #cod imagine #cod x reader #cod fic #mw2 x reader #mw2 imagine #.things i write

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slafkovskys · 1 year

Note

https://twitter.com/joshnorris10/status/1642956453513183232?s=46&t=wu4JMk7R7WDCcWltLzjsLQ

the money i would pay to see this

not somebody saying “he’s making sure you’re ready for next season” ☠️

#asks #anonymous #also i can picture josh running through the streets of ottawa in jeans swearing as he tries to catch this dog he is responsible for #hilarious

0 notes

girlbloggerbby · 8 months

Text

Being your big sister pt²

You must change your pads every 4 hours at least, this avoids the accumulation of bacteria and diseases

Charcoal pills help to stop poisoning in your dog!

Never and ever wash your lace clothes in the washing machine please! I learned the hard way (ruined my favorite corset 😭)

Your armpits are dark and stained because you use spray deodorant, these sprays dry the area, prefer to use roll-on or cream deodorants that moisturize more

Never put out a pan on fire by throwing water! This will make it explode, throw a damp cloth over it and put out the flame, if you spilled boiling water or oil on your skin immediately go to the sink and rinse under running water for a few minutes before doing anything else

Wash your jeans stuff by hand and with neutral products because they fade easily

Mix your perfume in a moisturizer of the same fragrance (similar) or unscented and apply it to your body, this will enhance the fragrance and last longer on your skin

Magnesium pills are the holy grail for us anemic girlies, it boost our energy, help with fainting and migraines

Research more about connectives before writing an essay, learning to use new forms of connectives will diversify and increase the level of writing essays

Bathing in very hot water destroys your skin and hair by drying out and weakening it over time

Person is not happy with your achievement=stay away from these people and remove them from your life

That's it for the day and i hope i was of some help, luv y'all 🪽

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hysteria-things · 2 months

Note

please write a story where either chris or matt is veryyyy dominant and can throw the reader around (might sound weird) but like a size difference 🙏

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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you feel sex deprived when you go camping with your boyfriend and his brothers for a few days, and you don’t think you can wait any longer.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, heavy petting, semi-public (?), marking, p in v, degradation, mentions blood, ROUGH

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,038

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: combined these two because they both fit the idea when i was brainstorming! hope you guys like it :)

“is everybody in?” matt asks as he turns the keys into the golf kart ignition. the boys have a campsite on a campground, and you guys have been going camping every few weeks. it’s summertime, so it’s the perfect weather to do things.

the campground is nice. it’s big with other people’s trailers there, dogs and little kids run around from morning to curfew.

doing activities like this is nice to get away from life for a bit, especially social media. having to text people back can be so exhausting.

a seatbelt clicks behind you. “yup. all ready.” chris says.

the sun is setting, and you hear the weekend band playing in the distance. matt’s driving of course, and you’re in the passenger seat. nick and chris are in the back facing outward.

the music starts to get closer as matt drives down the small hill that leads to the main part of the grounds. there’s a dog park, a horseshoe game setup, a lounge, and a playground/basketball court. the stage is just outside of the lounge and the bathrooms are on the other side.

there’s a fire going in the middle of where the picnic tables are. people from around the campgrounds are either sitting or standing by their golf karts, some dogs barking as well.

kids play on the playground and matt finds a spot to park. rainbow beams flood the air from the stage, the band singing whatever country song they’re playing.

fairy lights hang on the trees above. the four of you get up from the kart, heading closer to the stage. not too close, but close enough to get a better view.

the music is loud, people’s voices echoing through your head. cigarette smoke enters your nostrils and the sounds of beer cans opening flood your ears.

you would think this type of scene isn’t for the triplets and you’re not wrong, but something about being in the wilderness is so calming.

matt wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close and swaying to the music. the only downside of this trip is that you can’t have sex.

not to sound like a fiend, but you get sexually frustrated when you go a few days without it. you bite your lip as you start getting dirty thoughts in your mind, squirming in your boyfriend’s grasp.

“you okay?” he asks, a little loud so you can hear him over the music.

“mhm,” you say with a nod.

you put your hands behind your back, reaching towards matt’s crotch. it’s dark enough that people can’t see what you’re doing, but they’re all distracted anyway. however, you’re so close to his body that people definitely can’t see what you’re doing.

you start to palm his dick through his jeans, and he takes an arm off your shoulder and holds your hand still. “stop.”

obviously, you don’t listen, and you move your hand again. he’s starting to grow at your touch, but grips your hand tighter. “stop.”

you look at him innocently over your shoulder, your hand movements becoming faster on his erection. he groans, thrusting his hips slightly into your palm.

“we’ll be right back,” he says out of nowhere, lifting you over his shoulder since he’s so much bigger than you. he walks away before the other two can say anything, and he doesn’t bother taking the golf kart.

nick and chris stare at each other. “they’re going to fuck.” chris says, taking a sip out of the pepsi that he brought with him.

“oh, yeah.” nick agrees.

the walk back to the trailer feels short as you giggle back. matt’s boner hurts like a bitch as he opens the door and goes into the bedroom, throwing you onto the bed. “think you’re funny, huh?” he says lowly, immediately taking his shirt and jeans off.

you don’t say anything. except you look at him with doe eyes. then, he starts taking off your clothes. you’ve been waiting for this.

his dick springs out when he takes his boxers down, and it does look like it hurts.

he starts to crawl on top of you but then flips over causing you to gasp. you’re now straddling his lap.

you don’t have a chance to react when he grabs your hips and slams you down onto his cock. you whine as you feel him stretch you out completely. you start to bounce slowly, putting your head into his neck to leave kisses.

matt hisses when you bite down, sucking and marking his neck. you repeat that action multiple times, still bouncing painfully slowly.

he sighs annoyingly, flipping you over once again and pulling you closer by the legs before slamming into you immediately at an ungodly pace.

“matt!” you scream, your nails digging into his shoulders. “f-fuck!”

“you think you can tease me and get away with it? think again, sweetheart.”

you whimper, your back arching with each thrust. you repeat his name along with moans and cries of pleasure.

“or is this what you wanted?” he asks, grunting at the sudden pain in his back as you drag your nails when he hits your g-spot suddenly. “i should’ve taken you right then and there so people know what a fucking slut you are.”

“i-i’m—” your cut off when your legs start to shake, your eyes rolling back when the knot in your stomach is close to snapping.

the scratches you’re leaving on matt’s back start to bleed the deeper your nails dig, and he moans at the feeling. “you’re going to make me cum if you keep doing that shit.” he says through gritted teeth, getting close to his orgasm because he knows he’s making you feel this good.

a shaky moan leaves your mouth when you start to cum around his dick. he grunts as he thrusts into you two or three more times before pulling out and cumming on your stomach.

you pant and quiver, a smug smile on your lips. matt turns his back to retrieve your guys’ clothes, and your eyes widen. his back is red, scratches of different shades running down his bare skin. “your back… is fucked up.” you say between pants.

he smirks. “wouldn’t be the first time.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

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yxami · 6 months

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Happy nut or not November day 6

desc: yandere childhood friend x gn reader, heavy amounts of jealousy and obsession, yandere stuff, I feel like this is doodoo

“You’re the most jealous man I know” You spoke with heavy amusement in your voice as you wrote down your grocery list to prepare yourself for a run downtown where you could buy the ingredients for dinner.

“You know other men?” Your childhood best friend’s tone was serious and splashed with a threatening concern of jealousy. You knew he had his problems with you and other potential threats to your close friendship but was it really getting this bad?

“Ha… no?” You put your pen down just a second before you see a quarter of your room whizz past you with his one hand spinning your chair so you were forced around to face him.

“Don’t lie” He huffs, looking like a dog that was stripped of a pup cup after being promised one. “I should be the only man in your life” He whispers, scooting you to the left of your chair so he could squeeze next to you and rightfully slip you into his lap.

“There’s going to be plenty of people in my life, I can’t just avoid every guy that comes along” You sigh, feeling him wrap his arms around your lower stomach as if you were a stuffed animal, keeping you locked in with a comfortable grasp.

“You’re right” He sighs against the back of your neck, making the hair stand up, his lips pressed against your skin before he spoke. “You should keep away from everyone, and just stay in my house forever” He traces the folds on your jeans, running his fingers down your thighs back and forth.

“Very funny” You roll your eyes, reminding him that you weren’t done with your grocery list.

He gives you the time to write down two vegetables for dinner before he’s interrupting you again. “I’m coming on this trip too, right?” He rests his head on your shoulder, not masking that he was reviewing your list along with watching your every move, you already knew he would since he was your best friend and full time stalker anyways.

“If you wanna but im gonna take awhile grabbing everything so you might as well stay home” You wave your hand, grabbing the outfit you were going to wear but not yet changing like he assumed you would.

“I’ll come with you, it’s okay!” He insists before getting kicked out and ordered to stay outside while you change.

Like always, he was sitting right outside, waiting until you were done.

Once the two of you make it to the grocery store you make sure he sticks close by you so he can grab the items you need while you read them out. If he’s going to be here he might as well make himself useful, right? You mentally speak to yourself as you see him looking for the right item.

You’re too distracted with reviewing the list and adding an emoji next to every item you have in the cart to pick up on a lingering stare, not the one that you feel everyday anyways.

“The fuck are you looking at?” Your best friend growls at a person running their eyes up and down all over your body, as if you weren’t already taken by him.

You turn your head almost immediately to see who he was talking to, towering over a stranger holding on a face with enough level of seriousness that says he’s ready to beat them to a pulp.

“Hey hey, let’s just go cmon” You tug on the sleeve of his sweater, switching your attention on the aisle and then on them, hoping nobody would enter to see the situation laid before you.

You didn’t want to see your best friend in another fight, especially not at your favorite grocery store. You’re honestly shocked he hasn’t gotten arrested yet with how many fights he gets into.

“No, I wanna see what the fuck this bitch was staring at” He doubled down, glaring daggers into the limbs that he wanted to tear off of this creep.

“Let’s just go get the rest of our list” You pull on him more, looking extremely worried, which immediately gets your friend’s attention. He sighs and growls threats under his breath, making it loud enough for the creep to hear.

And as soon as he turns, the idiot scurries away faster than when they was caught.

“I’m sorry, that just pissed me off badly, they shouldn’t have been staring” He frowns, seeing how upset you looked. “I don’t mean to pick fights I swear, I just don’t want guys looking at you like that” He curls his arm around your lower torso, pulling you in for a hug.

“Sorry” He meekly says, resting his head on yours.

“It’s fine, just stop getting into fights before you get your ass beat” You picked up your phone to see what was next on the list, dragging him along the entire trip before he could pick another fight.

He was a handful but at least he listened to you?

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saintels · 5 months

Text

— “well? dig in!” ★ MUNCHIES 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗆𝗌

cw: loser + stoner ellie. mean gf femme reader. groping. pretty much just food play. praise. ellie is a messy bitch but a munch nevertheless. obvious wlw themes. weed. high key this is so unhygienic. heavily unedited. lowercase intended. drabble don’t like it? don’t read.

“y’so handsy.”

ellie looks like a dog. a desperate puppy with her mouth hanging open on a hot day.

her chin digs into your shoulder and her free hand that isn’t holding her messily-rolled joint is grabbing at your breast like they’re going to run away. they had already spilled from their black, lacy cups the second you leant back in between ellie’s thighs, allowing her fumbling hands to grasp what they needed to keep her grounded.

“ow!” you wince as she lands a particularly hard bite on your shoulder.

“sorry, baby,” she apologizes sheepishly, grinning lazily as her lashes flutter to shade her green eyes. they look up at you, red and hazy, “i’m hungry.”

“yeah,” you mumble, standing up and tossing your bra to the floor, “i can fucking tell.”

you waltz over to her fridge, feeling the way her eager eyes burn holes through your underwear.

you scoop up an assortment of ingredients, not really taking notice of them until they’re laid out on the coffee table, her bowl and papers pushed to the side.

you roll your eyes at the sight of her lazily laid back against the arm of her sofa. she props herself up on one arm, her jeans already unbuttoned and white tanktop riding up to reveal her wispy auburn happy trail.

her eyes widen as she spots the food on the table and she freezes for a moment.

“well?” you stand with your hands on your hips, “dig in!”.

yeah. ellie thought. i’m going to dig in, alright.

“lay down.”

you turned to look up at her from your position of bending to pick your bra up.

“what?”.

she stares at you blankly, sitting up now with her hands hanging between her knees.

“leave the bra and lay down on the couch. face up.”

you squint at her, suspicion crawling over your expression as you move to lay down across from her, shifting the cushions and throws to get comfortable.

she pulls off her tanktop, slowly crawling up your body in just her sports bra and unbuttoned jeans until she’s face to face with you.

“you comfy?” she whispers against your lips. she smells of hemp, champagne and the musky incense burning on the side table.

you nod and she messily presses a kiss to your lips, getting a good handful of your tit in her hand. she savors the way you gasp into her mouth, back arching into her touch. she chuckles lowly.

you watch curiously with bruised lips and hooded eyes as she grabs a strawberry and the bottle of honey. she takes a bite of the strawberry, placing it to the side and chewing as she opens the lid.

“wha- ah!” you gasp as the cold honey hits your nipple, the syrupy gold liquid slowly dripping down your rib cage, “ellie!”.

she grins and leans down, her eyes never leaving yours as she swirls her tongue around your hardened bud. her hands grip your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into your hip bones.

she collects the syrup on her taste buds, moaning as she finally takes your whole nipple in her mouth, doing her best to suck everything off.

“fuck,” you hiss as she releases it with a pop. the skin swells slightly and she grins, knowing a hickey will form there.

this feels like a fever dream, your mind blurry as she flattens her tongue on your skin and follows the sticky trail down to your navel.

“having fun there?” you manage to choke out, hands subconsciously tugging at the hair that lays by the nape of her neck.

she smirks lazily, collecting the sweet remnants on two of her fingers and bringing them to your face.

“have a taste, baby.”

you eye her down before slowly opening your mouth a little, letting her shove her fingers in. she moans at the warmth, your saliva coating her fingers as she sinks two slender digits in until you’re gagging on them knuckle deep. she feels herself getting irritable, her boxers now wet and uncomfortable.

“that’s it,” she whispers, looking down the bridge of her freckled nasal at you, “good fucking girl.”

she pulls them out and your hole clenches at the sight of your spit leaking down the veins in her hands and wrists.

after wiping her hand clean, she turns back to the coffee table.

you feel dizzy, trying to process the sensuality of what just happened to the point you hadn’t even noticed ellie tug your panties to your ankles.

she giggles slightly as your hips jump at the feeling of her nose bumping your puffy clit. you forgot she was high.

“ellie, i swear to god- fuck!”

you hear it before you even feel it. the slight hissing sound and then the feeling of the cold whipped cream swirled in perfect little mountain on your mound.

she ogles it, proud of her creation before she’s got her whole mouth on your pussy.

your jaw slacks and your mouth falls open yet your brain short circuits, failing to produce any sounds.

“mmm” she hums, lips smacking as she pulls off, “fuck yeah.”

ellie’s long fingers wrap around your ankles, the anklet she got you for your anniversary jingling in her ear as she raises them up, pressing your knees toward your chest.

you cry out as she latches onto your throbbing clit, tongue plunging deep into your hole to taste the main treat. you grip her hair, forcing her face into as if it were even possible for her to be any deeper inside you. trying your best to remember curtesy and your elderly neighbors, you chew on your bottom lip until it’s beaded raw and puffy. your mind goes misty, already hazed from how much you smoked and the spot ellie was repeatedly hitting with her tongue.

your orgasm is accompanied by a string of curses and white vision as your saccharine juices coat ellie’s chin and lips. your limbs twitch, toes curling as you struggle to grab onto any remaining strings of sanity let alone your own breath.

she gives you a lopsided smile and flops back against the sofa, rubbing your thigh tenderly just the way you liked.

“that was like— munchies but on steroids, babe.”

that was the last you heard of her ramble before you fell asleep. god, she was such a fucking weirdo.

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #tlou #ellie williams x you #female reader #smut #lesbian #wlw #wlw smut #brainrot #drabble #video game

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konigsblog · 4 months

Note

https://twitter.com/xruals/status/1737511865872195836?t=G7AKuAjirXDYnKdPvvJSbg&s=19

Nah bc this just makes me think of Simon 🥴

size difference - simon riley x afab!f!reader

i'm so sorry but i laughed out loud because the guy was edited, you can see he's warped, idk i just thought it was funny icl 😭😭

but, i'd never pass down an opportunity to write for a size kink.. :3 and ESPECIALLY with simon riley, because he's MASSIVE.

cw: size difference, size kink !! :''33

simon is absolutely infatuated with your small size. he's utterly obsessed with the way your small hand wraps around his thick cock so tightly, fingers barely touching as you stroke him slowly, and how despite your small size, you take him awfully well without complaints, only small cries as he smacks against your bruised cervix repetitively, abusing your pretty cunt.

he loves to hold your waist as the size difference makes him even harder. wrapping his burly arms around your small waist, gripping your hip gently and encouraging you to ride his thick and large thigh whilst you pumped his veiny, hard dick slowly and sloppily.

you buried your face into his brute chest, moans muffled as you began to grind your sensitive pussy against his thigh. simon praised you with a sweet and loving tone, chuckling quietly and deeply when you began to rock your hips even faster, more erratically through your orgasm. the soft sensation of your wet, cotton panties against your clit causing you to moan out through pleasure and ecsasty, your core tightening as you felt your orgasm building up.

simon wrapped his larger hand around yours to guide you up and down, dragging your smaller hand up and down his shaft while he groaned quietly, muttering praise into your ear as you continued to get off on him, his little plaything...

you dipped your digits into your soaked and transparent panties, fingers reaching down to curl inside your slicken, wet hole as you began rubbing your clothed, dripping pussy against him even faster, panting as you rutted against him needily. there was a clear and obvious wet patch on his jeans, which could've only been caused by you and your horniness.

simon felt your thumb run over his pink, thick tip, almost sending him over the edge as he breathed out heavily through gritted teeth, a grunt just barely passing through his clenched jaw. he slapped your tight ass painfully and abruptly; impatiently ordering for you to rock your hips faster as you'd teased him too much, all whilst you continued to pant like a stupid dog and fuck your fingers into your hole ‘til you turned stupid, your slit and folds raw and sensitive to the touch. :(

mmf', simon couldn't get enough of that fucked-out expression plastered on your face! your fingers became coated in sweet, dripping cum, simon's abdomen and rough hand dripping with his hot, sticky load. you collected his milky, oozing cum onto your smaller fingers, pushing it inside your ruined panties as you grinded against your palm, pushing his semen into you and whining for his attention and love and care. :3

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boysborntodie · 4 months

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Details from The Outsiders you may have forgotten or missed

-Cherry doesn't appear after the hearing (her not waving Ponyboy is just a movie thing)

-Ponyboy fucking hates people with green eyes so bad and gets pissed when someone points out he also has green eyes

-Steve always combs his hair into complicated swirls

-The Greasers always play football together

-Soda is one of the only Greasers who never gets drunk

-He also doesn't smoke unless something is bothering him or he wants to look tuff

-Darry, on the other hand, never smokes because it would affect his perfect body which he is very proud of

-Darry is also proud of being smart and sensible

-Ponyboy is the heaviest smoker out of the Curtis family

-Johnny started smoking at 9 and Steve at 11

-Johnny would've run away from Tulsa if it weren't for the gang

-Soda gives killer massages

-Ponyboy's razor wasn't working while he had to dissect a frog so he just took out his knife

-Darry goes skiing with some of his old friends sometimes

-Cherry and Marcia barrel race often and are pretty good at it

-Soda used to ride in rodeos but after breaking a ligament, his dad made him quit

-Sometimes Soda and Steve let Ponyboy help them fix the cars at the DX

-Johnny is the most law-abiding of the gang, and didn't even carry a knife until the Socs jumped him

-Cherry has an older brother

-Ponyboy used to have a yeller cur dog

-Johnny's scar his from his temple to his cheekbone (it's huge and also hard to look at)

-Two-Bit is great at doing impressions

-Two-Bit often raises one eyebrow, and the gang associate the gesture with him

-Dally and the Curtis mother got along well before she died

-Ponyboy is a scarily good liar

-Ponyboy notes that while he sees Johnny as a scared puppy, he actually looks rather hardened and cold to a stranger

-Johnny's skin is lighter under his bangs

-When at the church, Johnny puts his jean jacket over Ponyboy while he went out to get groceries

-Steve, Dally and Two-Bit wouldn't have thought of buying soap at a grocery store

-Ponyboy calls himself a Pepsi addict

-Dally hardly ever cuts his hair

-Johnny loves drag races

-The Curtis Dad took the brothers out hunting often in the country

-Ponyboy has the best aim but hates shooting

-Dally heard of the old church from a cousin

-Ponyboy is the youngest person on the track team but still one of the fastest

-Darry was the closest to their dad

-Steve once called Darry 'all brawn ans no brains' which made Darry made because it reminded him of the fact he didn't go to college

-Darry will suddenly pick up a random Greasers and swings them around

-The Curtis Dad used to call Soda 'Pepsi-Cola'

-The Shepard gang and the Curtis gang have fought seriously on at least on occasion (but it's nothing compared to the rumble)

-The Curtis brothers stayed at the hospital all night for Johnny and Dally until a doctor forced them to leave

-Johnny has a clean police record

-Ponyboy chews his fingernails when nervous

-Johnny often sleeps at Two-Bit's house

-The Curtis brothers all have huge appetites

-Darry always checks Ponyboy's Math homework for mistakes

-Johnny looks like his mother; having the same black hair, dark eyes and tiny built/height

-Soda did actually try really hard to stay in school but he kept failing

-Darry and Ponyboy both enjoyed school and athletics while Soda isn't into either

-The only thing Dally did honestly was jockeying

-Johnny really good at poker (or Ponyboy is really bad)

-The only time Johnny has been confident and not scared in his life, was when rescuing the kids in the church

-Johnny actually gets hurt because he pushed Ponyboy out first of the church

-Sodapop loves attention and was good with the reporters

-Sodapop has a crazy sweet tooth

-The Curtis brothers all love chocolate

-Darry never locks the front door in case one of the gang need a place to stay

-Ponyboy once found Tim Shepard sitting on their couch reading the newspaper

-Ponyboy thinks that Two-Bit wouldn't have gone inside the church if he was there

-Two Bit wished that the one hurt was anybody but Johnny and that the gang would have still been able to get along had it been anyone else

-Darry once took an aerobatics course and taught all the Greasers everything he knew

-Soda and Two-Bit were doing aerobatics and then got arrested for disturbing the peace

-The Curtis gang are noted to be better at fighting than the Shepard gang

-Tim Shepard looked like a model from the magazines Ponyboy reads

-Ponyboy notes that sweat ran down Dally's face when Johnny died, but it was probably tears

-Cherry drives a Sting Ray

-Curly once slipped off a telephone poll and broke his arm

-Johny's a good listener and all the members of the gang often go to tell him about their day or their problems

-Johnny says in his letter that the lives of kids were worth more than his

#the outsiders #johnny cade #dallas winston #se hinton #ponyboy curtis #dally winston #sodapop curtis #darrel curtis #two bit mathews #darry curtis #cherry valance #marcia #steve randle #tim shepard #curly shepard #the greasers

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ghostedbunnie · 5 months

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I think the main difference in Johnny and Simon’s obsessions is that Johnny allows you some insight, he babbles about what goes on in his mind mostly when he’s between your thighs drunk on your taste.

meanwhile Simon just ...stares. it doesn't help that half of the time his face is covered up save for his eyes so you get used to reading him based on them. sometimes you're honestly scared of what you see in them, the predatory glint when you stretch and your shirt rides up a little bit? the downright filthy up and down when you get dressed up for some special occasion or honestly even if you are about to go on a grocery run in your hoodie and jeans he is scanning you with his eyes like he can see through the clothes somehow.

it doesn't really end with just staring though. where Johnny warns you before he pounces, Simon simply acts like a herding dog, nipping at your heels until he has you where he wants you and there is nothing you can do about it but follow his lead. he doesn't bother setting up a trap with honeyed words like Johnny does, he only pushes until you step into the trap by yourself.

#cod x reader #cod mw2 #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #soap x you #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #x reader insert #bunnie writes

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