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mystic-writings · 4 months ago

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ink on skin | daryl dixon

PAIRING — daryl dixon x fem!soulmate!reader

REQUEST — anon — hello! could you do an angsty story with daryl dixon? fem reader please <3

SUMMARY — daryl gave up on the concept of soulmates long ago, even with the words marked on his wrist. and then he found you.

WARNINGS — canon-typical scenarios, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, soulmate au

WORD COUNT — 3,573

NOTES — this was supposed to be part of a really long collection of prompt drabbles from years ago but i found it in my docs and turned it into something a lot longer <3 it’s not the best (i couldn't for the life of me work out a good ending), but i think this might be one of my faves i’ve written bc of how poetic the first few paragraphs are

masterlist | navigation | requests are open!

Daryl gave up on the concept of soulmates long before the world ended. He gave up on it when he was just a boy, when his mother died and his father stopped showing love. When he was told by his peers, his brother, his father, that no one would ever want him to stay with them, because he just wouldn’t be wanted by anyone.

He grew to loathe the words on his wrist from a very young age. He did everything he could to cover them — makeup he stole from his aunt, long-sleeved shirts, bracelets, you name it. He’d even gotten used to not glancing at the ink scribed on his left wrist, making sure that no matter what, his eyes never fell on them.

But even when he hated the words that sat there, waiting to be spoken by someone who cared, someone who wanted him, he couldn’t deny the countless nights he spent awake, tracing each letter and imagining what his soulmate’s voice sounded like. How would they say those three little words? What would they look like? When would he meet them?

Daryl missed the feeling of being wanted. He only ever felt it when he was with his mother, when he was a young boy who didn’t know anything but that the sky was blue and soulmates were real and his father was mean. He hasn’t felt wanted — truly wanted — for a long, long time, not even when he found the group.

Over time, with the loathing came the forgetting of the words marked on his wrist. By the time the world ended, Daryl had almost completely abandoned the reality of having a soulmate, and he rarely ever thought about it. In fact, he felt some relief in the fact that the world had ended. The chances of him finding ‘the one’ had lowered significantly now that most of the population was undead, and he had no reason to worry about being better for someone just to make it seem like he was worth loving anymore.

For almost three years, he lived with the relief of likely not having a soulmate anymore.

Today was an ordinary day, especially for the Alexandrians. At least, it seemed like an ordinary day. The sun was shining, people were milling around, crops were growing. But underneath the surface was something that no one wanted to address. Fear.

Negan was beginning his wrath on the community that could barely keep itself alive. He demanded supplies, and he demanded a lot of them. So, half of Daryl’s people had gone out on runs to look for stuff. Food, clothes, medicine, whatever they could bring back. Daryl was among that group, taking a car as opposed to his motorbike and going to a high school with Carol.

At first, he volunteered to go alone, but she reasoned with him. It was too big of an area for him to cover on his own, she said. He could get hurt, or worse. And it was Carol, how could he deny her? She was his best friend, after all. So, Daryl drove in silence, Carol in the passenger seat, staring curiously at him.

The feeling of her eyes on his annoyed him to no end, and eventually, the archer caved.

“There somethin’ on my face or wha’?”

“Nothing,” Carol chirped. “Just… thinking.”

“‘Bout wha’?” Daryl asked, sparing a glance at the woman.

Carol shrugged, eyeing her friend. “About those words, on your arm.”

Daryl tensed, shifting his posture to hopefully hide them from Carol’s view. “And?”

“Well, they’re not gone, for one.” She stated, a lilt in her voice. “And they’re… interesting first words for a soulmate, don’t you think?”

“How am I supposed ta know? I ain’t never seen anyone else’s tattoos. And it ain’t like I got a good chance of meetin’ ‘em, with all this shit goin’ on.” Daryl grumbled, watching Carol shrug and avert her gaze, looking ahead at the road.

“Just saying… I wouldn’t give up hope, Daryl.”

How would Carol know whether or not he should give up hope? Sure, she’d been the person closest to him aside from Rick, but even she knew nothing about his soulmate. Hell, he was still trying to figure out how she knew exactly what words marked his wrist. Still, he shook the thoughts from his head and continued the drive in silence, as though nothing had been spoken between the pair.

Somehow, the high school Daryl and Carol had arrived at seemed to be completely abandoned.

There were no walkers roaming around outside the grounds, most of the windows were intact, and the parking lot was practically void of cars. It was a small town, but from what Daryl could remember of the high schools they’d driven past or looted during their time at the prison, he figured most high schools in small towns — like this one, in particular — would’ve been turned into aid camps for refugees.

Even with no signs of life, Carol and Daryl kept their weapons up as they entered through the main doors.

Flashlight beams swept over every inch of the school, and it became clear as to why there were no walkers. Rotting bodies littered the linoleum floors, dried blood splattered over tile and wall and metal lockers. A stench that the pair had, unfortunately, gotten used to, permeated the air, filling their guts with a permanent feeling of nausea.

The first place they’d found was the nurse’s office, and while there wasn’t much in the way of medicines, there were supplies that Alexandria was lacking. Gauze, tension wraps, bandaids, generic over the counter medicines like ibuprofen and Gravol. Whatever was left, Carol loaded into the backpack she’d brought, filling it to the brim with what they found.

“Cafeteria should be this way,” she nodded down the hall, flashlight sweeping across the path before they exited.

Passing by empty classroom after empty classroom, Daryl said, “Migh’ need some of this stuff for later, when the kids get older, ya know? Be good for ‘em to learn.”

“Yeah, it would be,” Carol nodded, eyes landing on a set of double doors to her right. “Maybe we’ll come back for all that stuff later.”

Daryl grunted in affirmation, about to push the cafeteria door open with his shoulder. He paused as a loud thump echoed down the hall. His eyes flashed, followed by the beam of his flashlight, landing on a singular closed door, a plastic chair propped under the handle.

“Leave it,” Carol advised. “It’s just a walker.”

Daryl nodded, but his eyes lingered on the door for a moment. Deciding to leave it be, he pushed the cafeteria door open, finding it empty yet again. The pair crossed the large area to the hot table, where they could already see some canned goods lying about on the tables.

“If there were people here,” Carol began, “why wouldn’t they have taken the food with them when they left?”

“Why’s that matter?” Daryl asked, propping his crossbow against the wall and pulling out his knife. He knelt by the door to the kitchen, putting his flashlight down and wedging the blade between the frame. “‘S more for us, ‘s all that matters. Don’ gotta question everythin’,”

Carol said nothing, keeping her flashlight trained on the door for Daryl to use as extra light.

After prying open the door, the pair used a cart to transport the mounds of large, sealed canned goods. With Carol pulling and Daryl pushing, they’d made quick work of the first two trips they needed to make, loading their trunk as best as they were able.

On their way out of the third and final trip, Carol held the cafeteria door open as Daryl pushed the half-full cart, stopping abruptly as the door started to swing shut behind him.

“What? What is it?”

“I hear somethin’,” Daryl muttered, straining his ears to listen for the noise again. He listened for what felt like decades, and just when he thought he was going crazy, he heard it again. “There,”

“What? I didn’t hear anything,” Carol said.

“Nah, I heard it. Comin’ from this way,” he gestured down the part of the hall they hadn’t bothered exploring. Slowly, focused entirely on identifying the noise, Daryl crept down the hall, a confused Carol following him.

Just as he’d been passing the room with the chair blocking the door, Daryl heard two sounds: a dull thunk, and a hiccuping cry. He stopped, turning to the door that had drawn his attention before.

“Daryl, it’s just a walker,” Carol insisted. “Let’s go, we got what we need.”

The archer didn’t listen, footfalls nearly silent against the linoleum as he approached the door, knife raised. In quick motions, Daryl pulled the chair from the door, sending it down the hall with a resounding screech, grabbing at the handle and pulling it open. The hinges squeaked as he peered within the dark, small room — a supply closet, he’d discerned from the cleaning products lining the shelves. All sense of danger left him when he wasn’t met with a walker, but instead a girl, her body half-laying, half-sitting, propped against the wall.

Daryl’s eyes widened, taking in her form. She was covered head to toe in dirt and grime, save for the clear tear tracks down her cheeks and neck. Her hair was matted, and the side of her calf, just above the ankle, was wrapped in dirtied bandages. Her only protection was a small knife, covered in dried blood, the handle of which rested in her limp hand.

“Holy shit,” Daryl blurted, catching the attention of Carol, but barely gaining acknowledgement from the girl before him.

Carol, peeking over Daryl’s shoulder, moved first. She darted around the archer’s broad frame, kneeling down at the girl’s calf. Peeling the bandage from her skin, Carol sighed in relief, finding a deep gash where she feared there might have been a bite mark. “She’s hurt,” Carol remarked, moving closer to search for a pulse. “And barely alive.”

“Go bring the cart out, I’ll carry her out,” Daryl’s eyes never left the girl’s form as Carol left. Carefully, he scooped the girl into his arms, relief flooding him when a weak, protesting groan fell from her chapped lips.

There was no telling how long she’d been stuck in that closet, without food or water, simply left to die. And based on the chair propped against the door… it had been intentional.

Daryl carried her to the car with ease, having Carol assist him as he laid you across the back seat, taking the time to make sure she would be secure as they drove. After confirming that everything was packed into the trunk, Daryl peeled out of the school parking lot, the drive back to Alexandria being much shorter than the one to the school.

The sun was setting when the car passed the gates, and from there, things passed in a flurry of motion. Daryl carried the girl to the infirmary himself, watching Tara and Denise move about hastily to heal this mystery woman.

“What happened to her?” Denise asked, cutting the bandage from her ankle.

“Dunno,” Daryl huffed. “Found her like tha’. Musta been trapped for a while. Few days without water, at least.”

Denise only nodded, working to clean the wound and stitch it. She barely had the focus to think about the wound itself, how deep it was and the likelihood of infection setting in. Tara worked at cleaning the girl’s skin, inserting an IV into her hand like she’d been taught.

The sun had set by the time they were done, the girl changed into new clothes and her skin cleaned of grime. Tara had been sitting by her side when Daryl came back to the infirmary, after going to the Grimes home to eat something and give as much information as he could to Rick and Michonne.

“How’s she doin’?”

“As good as she can,” Tara smiled awkwardly. “I don’t think she’ll be waking up anytime soon, she’s like— super dehydrated. It’s been an hour and I’ve had to change the bag thingy twice already.”

Daryl grunted in acknowledgement, pulling up a chair on the other side of the girl’s bedside. He didn’t know much about her — or anything, really, not even her name — but even with her chapped lips and sickly look, he thought she was beautiful. And he also knew that whoever had left her in that closet had done so on purpose. He figured it might have been because of her injury, but it was cruel no matter which way he tried to paint it.

He just hoped she’d be okay when she woke up.

It took the mystery girl three days to wake up. Managing her health at a time where there weren’t any real supplies to use had been difficult, and it took all of Denise’s focus to make sure she had enough fluids.

Waking up in an unfamiliar, oddly clean, room, on a bed, with no stench of rotting bodies wafting through the air was confusing, terrifying, and oddly comforting.

Your body woke with a jolt, eyes snapping open like you’d woken from a nightmare of sorts. There was movement to your right, and you jumped back from it, frantic eyes finding a blonde girl attempting to calm you without touching you as best as she was able.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, you’re safe.” She’d said, stressing the last word. “One of our guys found you in a supply closet and brought you here. He— He said you were half dead.”

Pure fear and confusion kept your mouth shut. The girl kept talking, asking questions, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond to any of it. The pain in your leg hadn’t been of any help, pulsing and throbbing with every slight movement.

By the time she’d realized you weren’t going to respond, she sighed and moved over to the kitchen to your right. When she came back, she placed some food and a tall glass of water on the bedside table, backing away slowly as she spoke. “I’m Denise. The man who found you, Daryl, is on his way to see you. Maybe you’ll feel more comfortable talking to him?”

The idea of speaking to anyone, even the man you vaguely remember before passing out due to dehydration, made your stomach roll. Still, you picked up the plate, gratefully digging into the food you were given. Drinking the water, you relished the feeling of it sliding down your throat. Water was something you hadn’t had in what felt like years, and you’d be damned if you didn’t cherish what you’d been given.

As you finished up, the door creaked open, and your body stiffened. You watched a burly, reserved man step inside, his movements hesitant. You watched Denise approach, whispering something to him — likely about you. Presuming this was Daryl, you willed yourself to relax, even as you pulled your knees tight to your chest, arms locked around them.

You watched him approach the bedside, standing awkwardly beside you as you looked into his eyes. Strikingly blue, surprisingly soft.

“Hey. Ya alright?” He asked. His voice was rough, southern accent awfully thick. But his words sounded soft, somehow. Small. Like he was trying not to frighten you.

All you could manage was a nod. He huffed, nodding back, clearly somewhat relieved that you were at least communicating somehow. You kept your eyes on him, tracing every inch of his face and his clothes. It was clear to you, though you were unsure of how, that he must’ve been built for this world. Daryl seemed out of place in this clean, crisp, white room, and when you pictured him in the woods, he seemed to blend right in.

After a moment, he turned and went back to talk to Denise. They spoke in hushed whispers, and you thought back to the exchange you’d just had. Your mind had been reeling, so caught up in the entire situation, that the words Daryl had spoken didn’t register. And neither did the tingling across the inside of your wrist.

Pulling down the sleeve of your shirt, your fingers grazed at the skin where the words you’d been waiting your whole life for the right person to say used to be. With wide eyes, you found the words gone, replaced by a slight scar of where they had once been inscribed. It was surreal, and definitely not the time.

“Hey,” Daryl called out as he came to stand beside you again, voice still soft despite its natural roughness. “Doc said ya can leave if ya want. I know ya don’t know me, but if ya want… ya can stay with me. I got a cot ya can sleep on, if yer okay with tha’,”

You mustered up a small smile, nodding at the man before you — your soulmate. You’d been wishing to find him your entire life, but with the world ending, you put that aspiration aside. You certainly hadn’t expected to find him when you were at the brink of death, trapped by the selfish people you’d once considered family.

Carefully, you slipped out from the blankets, stumbling as you put weight on your injured leg. Luckily, Daryl caught you, wrapping an arm around your waist as the other guided your arm to rest around his neck. Wordlessly, you watched his cheeks flush red as he shifted his weight before you began walking.

It was painful, getting to the house he lived in. Not because of your leg, but because of the proximity. Along with the fact that you couldn’t bring yourself to speak a single word, not even to him.

As you settled into the large basement room he’d taken, he told you more about the community, about his people. The ones who lived here — Rick, Michonne, Carl, and Judith — were family to him. The others were the same, but they all lived in different homes. He laid out the cot as you sat on the bed, watching intently as his voice reverberated around the room, rattling your heart in your chest.

“I know ya don’t talk much,” he huffed, rooting through a bag of his and pulling something out. “But ya can write, right?”

You nodded, watching a smile play on his lips as he handed you a notepad and pen.

“Can ya tell me yer name, at least? So we can call ya somethin’ that ain’t jus’ ‘girl’?”

Smiling, you wrote out your name and handed the paper back to him. Your smile widened when you heard him say your name, meeting his eyes as he looked back up at you.

“Ya can talk, right?” You nodded.

Daryl nodded, leaving the pen and paper with you, just in case. “‘M gonna go find Rick, tell him yer stayin’ with me fer now. Alright?”

The thought of Daryl leaving you, of being alone, in an unfamiliar place, with no light aside from the window at the very top of the wall, shocked the fear back into you. As he turned, heading for the door that led to the stairs, your breath caught in your throat. As quickly as you were able, you reached out, grabbing the man’s wrist and pulling him back to face you.

“Please, don’t leave.” You whispered, voice gravelly and strained. It surprised even you, eyes widening as you met Daryl’s gaze. But his carried a certain fear as his eyes tore from your own, locking onto the wrist you’d caught.

Following his line of sight, your heart stuttered, watching the ink on his arm begin to fade into his skin, into the same imprinted scar of words that you had.

“Yer…” he breathed, eyes filling with tears.

“Yeah,” you whispered, eyes watering, watching him as his eyes remained on his wrist. “Your soulmate.”

Daryl pulled his wrist from your delicate hold, his mind on overdrive. He’d thought it ironic, that the apocalypse had only pushed him closer to his soulmate instead of further apart. And now, the words he’d been desperate to cover throughout his life were finally gone, and the woman that the universe decided was meant for him was sitting on his bed, saved from the cusp of death because of him. All because he couldn’t take his mind off the closet with the chair blocking the door.

His hand came to his wrist, rubbing at the skin that was no longer tainted with words he thought would never be spoken. And despite all of the fear Daryl carried with him over the years, the gratefulness he had for the apocalypse and the relief that he’d never have to let down his soulmate when they saw that he wasn’t good enough for them, he felt none of it when he looked at you.

All he could feel was happy. Relief, not that the world had ended, but that you were safe and healthy.

And, all of a sudden, meeting your eyes, Daryl was okay with the idea of having a soulmate. All the words that had been spat his way growing up, all the times he was desperate to pretend like he didn’t have a soulmate didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was you.

It would take time for Daryl to feel like he deserved you, he knew that. But you were here, and you were alive. That was enough for now.

Forever taglist: @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @heliads

Daryl Dixon taglist: @katrina765 @hp-hogwartsexpress @ellablossom @alexxavicry @avabh12 (open!)

taglist form here!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon fluff #soulmate au #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader

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targaryen-dynasty · 7 months ago

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THE CURSE OF CURIOSITY.

Aemond Targaryen x twin sister!reader

"While your brother searches the library of the Dragonkeeper Elder for something new to read, you come in contact with some unlabeled fluid. You both learn that it's something meant to aid in the breeding of dragons, however, it also has a unique effect on humans. But lucky for you, your twin is there to help you through the ordeal."

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, dub con, sex pollen (rather fluid lol), p in v, breeding kink

WORDS: 4 K

NOTES: Hope you enjoy me having literally zero grasp on English. 🤭

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

“It’s far too late for us to be here,” you huff, almost annoyed, as you watch Aemond graze his fingers along the spines of the several books kept in the currently deserted chambers of the Dragonkeeper Elder. “What are we looking for here anyways?”

The room is barely lit by anything else than just a handful of candles. Your twin holds a lantern of some sort in one hand, using it to make out the writings that are carved on the books backs.

When there doesn’t immediately come an answer from him, you start to slowly walk around the room, inspecting its decor. “I have exhausted the castle’s libraries, and hope to take something of their collection for my own,” he murmurs, carefully selecting two books.

You stop in your tracks and turn to look at him. Although you’re just a few moments younger than him, sharing the same attributes with your long, silver hair and lilac eyes, you have a much gentler nature than he does, one that doesn’t lend itself to the same mischief you had pursued together as children anymore.

“And you couldn’t have just taken Floris with you? You ought to wed, and doing something together would do no harm to your future union. One sparsely sees you two around court,” you note, slightly annoyed your brother chose to wake you instead of his betrothed.

Knowing all too well that just the mention of the betrothal is going to set him off, you choose to play with fire. If your brother wants your company, he’ll have to put up with your teasing. And just like expected, the notion of being forced into a marriage he doesn’t want to be in irritates him, audible in the sigh he releases. His resentment of the situation has become worse over time as he feels more and more suffocated by the ordeal.

“The girl is as dull as stones. Besides,” he replies with a shrug, “she knows nothing about our family’s history, much less about dragons.” The topic of dragons is something your twin is very passionate about, and you know that the fact that his wife-to-be cares so little about his passion infuriates him. It might be one of the main reasons for his dislike of her. “I have no desire to have Floris at my side any more than she does me.”

His annoyance is palpable, but you don’t feel bad about making it worse. For all the hours he has spent teasing, taunting and annoying you while you grew up together, he gets it back twice and three times over. And although he hasn’t spoken it out loud, you know you’re one of the few people he trusts blindly to be himself around.

“That aside, it would be foolish to read with Floris,” he continues, your silence coaxing him to speak more, “as all she does is gossip with her friends and prattle on about pointless nonsense. You of all people know best how I feel about this match.”

“Floris isn’t so bad, you know,” you defend with a low voice. “And you’ve barely tried to get to know her. Surely you can find at least one thing to like about her. If you did, you might just see she’s not as terrible as you’ve decided.” If you both have to spend your days withering away in marriages sealed by your father and mother, you at least could find a little solace knowing your twin wasn’t as miserable in his.

Aemond sighs in frustration. “You sound just like mother,” he comments dryly, finally moving to look at you from over his shoulder. “Can you really say that you like her? She is dull and naive. I am certain I couldn’t find anything to like about her even if I had all night. There is nothing for me to like about her. Nothing at all.”

Finding yourself at somewhat of a loss of words at this, you open and close your mouth without any words leaving it. Part of you wants to disagree with your twin, as Floris hasn’t been entirely unpleasant to spend time with at court, which makes Aemond’s dislike for her appear entirely without reason to you. On the other hand, you’ve known your brother long and well enough to know when he is resolute about something.

“Just promise me that you won’t be a terrible husband to her. Even if you don’t like her, don’t make your lifes awful,” you finally blurt out.

As you allow your gaze to trail through the chambers once more, you spot some small vessels standing lined up on the desk in the far corner with books and scrolls littered around them. You don’t wait for Aemond to reply as you make your way over, determined to inspect the small containers. The liquid inside of them resembles milk of the poppy, although it’s slightly more permeable to light when you hold it to one of the candles.

You hardly think about the dangers coming with it when you open the lid to inhale a whiff of the fluid. Not smelling entirely unpleasant, it still has you scrunching your nose as a slight burning grows prominent in your nose and throat.

Placing the vessel back down rather quickly, it stands too close to the edge of the desk. You’re not quick enough as it falls to the ground with a clatter, the vessel shattering into pieces and the pale liquid spreading across the floor.

“By the Seven,” you mumble, sinking to the ground to collect some of the larger shards.

The sound of breaking glass and your sighing is enough to catch your brother's attention again. Where he has read the spines of the books before, he makes his way over to the source of the commodation now. “You shouldn’t have dropped that,” he comments dryly, which prompts you to shoot him a heated glare. “Oh, you don’t say, mh?” you reply, your voice laced with sarcasm.

Reaching for another shard, you pull your hand back with a hiss when it cuts your finger. “Ouch!” you exclaim and rise to your feet, soon enough spotting the crimson oozing out of the cut.

Despite his annoyance at your clumsiness, Aemond’s good eye is drawn to the cut you have given yourself. It’s no deep wound, but even the hint of your blood makes something akin to guilt bubble in his stomach. “What were you doing with that?” he inquires, as he takes your hand to inspect your finger, nodding towards the vessels still standing on the desk.

You watch him twist and turn your hand to have the perfect look of the wound, the stinging pain suddenly not too bad with his warm skin on yours. “I… I just wanted to see what they keep here. It is unusual for anyone other than the maesters to store unmarked liquids,” you reply, hissing as Aemond pinches the cut finger a tad too tightly. “I shall see Maester Mellos. Mayhaps this needs stitching.”

“That’s an excellent idea.”

Aemond fetches the books he has chosen from the collection, holding them under his arm as he brings the other to you to place a hand to the small of your back, guiding you out of the Dragonpit.

On your request, the cut on your finger is stitched by Maester Mellos, although he has voiced that it wasn’t quite necessary. But something tells you the opposite, especially when you catch him staring at your face and checking your temperature more than once. “Is everything alright, maester?” you ask him with a soft voice, a yawn following.

Aemond towers over the both of you, carefully watching each move of the needle in the elder’s hands, just waiting for him to make a wrong move that’s meant to hurt you – he’s familiar with being stitched up after all.

The maester seems to be out of his mind, and only reacts as he hears you say his name. “Maester Mellos?”

His eyes are wide, but he nods quickly. “Yes… yes, princess. The wound should be able to heal calmly now.”

He is quick to pack his utensils up again, and even faster to leave your chambers at once. And while Aemond hurries after the old man, trying to catch up on him outside of your chambers, you don’t wait for any of them to return again with sleep coming over you.

The crackling of the fireplace is the only thing audible when you stir awake, a sheen of sweat covering your skin, making your nightgown cling to it uncomfortably. Your body feels as though it’s on fire when you squirm from one side to the other, not finding back to sleep. A tingling spreads in your loins, and each time your thighs squeeze together, it surges up your spine.

“Gods be good,” you whine, utterly bewildered with the feeling of liquid fire coursing through your veins.

Aemond not so silently rises from one of the chairs close to the fireplace, and comes closer to the bed, though, careful not to startle or frighten you as you regain your bearings. He has hoped you’d sleep through the entire ordeal and wake up as if nothing has happened, but that hope slowly dissipates with each passing moment.

“How are you feeling?” your twin asks, concern in his voice. Suddenly, hearing his voice allures you, and doesn’t diminish the burning at the apex of your legs.

As you clench your thighs together again, it releases some of the tension your body holds, and makes you whine in despair. “Aemond…” you pant, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths. “What are you doing here?”

The thin sheets covering your body do little to conceal what is happening beneath, and your brother just assumes it’s your way of trying to suppress your bodily urges ignited by the pale liquid you came in contact with before.

“I…” his usual confidence and boldness completely deserts him at the state you’re in, and he can barely find the words to tell you what he’s been told by Maester Mellos.

As he watches you writhe and writhe about on the bed, he’s unsure of how much longer he can just stand there and do nothing. But his concern and love for you cause him to make the decision to act, approaching you and reaching out to grasp your hands.

At the contact, the feeling of his warm hands fully engulfing yours, it’s like something overcomes your mind and body, luring you in to move, staring up at him with wide eyes as you sit on your haunches. “Dohaeragon nyke… kostilus,” you whimper, strands of your silver hair clinging to the damp sides of your face. “Ziry ōdrikagon.. sīr bāne. Nyke sepār – dohaeragon nyke, lēkia.” Yet you don’t quite know what exactly you’re begging for. Help me… please. It hurts… so hot. I just – help me, brother.

In the dim light of the candles, you spot his eye widening as you shift and squirm, looking up at him in such a vulnerable state with your innocent eyes, pleading for him to help you through your ordeal although you have no idea of what’s wrong with you right now. He can’t help but notice how your hair clings to your skin, seeming as if you’ve just bathed, and that your movements seem to contribute to its dampness.

“Mellos has told me what the fluid is that the Elder keeps in his chambers,” he states, trying to stay calm and not let your state affect him too much.

But with his proximity, all effort of you to process what he’s saying is fruitless. You pull on his hands, as if you want to encourage him to join you in bed, and when he doesn’t budge, you rise on your knees, and start to fidget with the buttons of his coat – solely driven by your urges. “And that is?” you mumble, not really listening.

His cheeks run hot when you start to undo the buttons, and his hands capture yours once again to put a stop to it, making you pout. With furrowed brows, his grip finally has you looking up at him. “It’s something used to aid in breeding the dragons,” Aemond states. “He told me it’s also used to increase their stamina and to make them more…” he trails off, his body slowly growing tense as the implication of what he’s going to say settles into his mind. “... receptive to breeding.”

“Mh–Mh,” you hum almost nonchalantly, and watch completely mesmerized as your fingers graze along his, the warmth and softness of his skin only intensifying the tingling in your loins. Aemond is hesitant, unsure whether or not what you’re doing is entirely due to the potion’s effect, or if there is genuinely some desire for him on your part.

You lick your lips and free your hands from Aemond’s to shrug the opened coat off his shoulders. The fabric of his tunic is pinched between your fingers as you tug on it once again to beg for him to join you. With him taking his sweet time, you find yourself clenching your thighs every now and then to soothe the aching burning at the apex of them.

“He also informed me that ‘tis necessary for someone to… help you through it,” he murmurs quietly, his voice almost sounding shaky as he speaks, “... for it will burn you from the inside out if not.”

Even though you’re fully acting on your body's desires, you do notice the way his widened eye trails down to your thighs, lingering there for a moment before it returns to yours.

You don’t give a verbal response to his words, and instead, your only reactions are subtle ones. Nodding your head slowly, as if you’ve understood what he is implying, your hands squeeze his tunic further into his chest. He can practically see your body tensing with each movement of your fingers, almost as if you’re trying to hold back.

With your eyes firmly locked with his now, you slowly trail your hands beneath his tunic, pushing it up to remove that as well from his body to get further access to him – if it wasn’t for him not raising his arms.

Exhaling a deep breath, you sit back on your haunches. His reluctance does little to quell the fire raging within you, no, it only fuels to make you even more desperate. The lacey hem of your nightgown rides up your thighs as you spread them, and fully exposes your undergarments the moment you bring your hand between your legs. A breathy whimper falls past your lips as your fingers finally make contact with your clothed cunt, and then something akin to mischief flickers in your lilac eyes.

“And… will you help me, brother? Or shall I ask Jacaerys for help instead? We ought to wed in a moon's turn after all,” your voice is honeyed as you speak, dripping with feigned innocence. “But you don’t want that, do you? That’s why you’ve stayed.”

You spot the exact moment his breath hitches in his throat. He suddenly feels a wave of heat overcoming him, your words triggering something in him that is more than just the usual desire to protect his younger sister, something primal. You sound and look so vulnerable asking for his help, secretly begging for him and him only.

Intertwining your fingers with his, the intensity of your grip increasing as your senses become more heightened, your twin finally moves as you pull him onto the bed. The mattress dips beneath his weight as you watch him come closer, and when he is close enough, you reach and pull him down onto you in a quick motion. You don’t waste a second more and lock your lips with his, your hand slowly traveling down his back. But before you can grab his tunic and pull it over his head, Aemond pushes you back to lie flatly on the bed, pinning your wrists above your head. His eye burns with hunger as he gazes down at you, visible even in the dim light, and it makes you yearn for more.

“Well, if I chose to leave you here to your own devices, would you crawl to your betrothed for help? I do not think so,” he says, his voice taking over a mocking tone. “No, in fact, I’m certain you would come to my chambers instead.”

When he doesn’t touch you, you try to wrap your legs around his body to grind yourself against him, but Aemond is quick to catch your hip with one hand, keeping your body still as it's pinned to the mattress.

“Sir, dohaeragon nyke,” you beg, voice shaky enough it comes close to a whimper. But when you notice that speaking in the tongue of your ancestors is not having any effect on him at all, you choose to coax him to tend to you in the Common Tongue. “Touch me, Aemond. Help me… please.” Now, help me.

Aemond is silent for a moment, visibly dragging his eye over your squirming frame. One hand still holds your wrists above your head, while the other slowly but surely releases your hip. “I shall take care of you,” he reassures you. “But you will have to let me, do you understand?”

You gaze up at him with wide eyes and slowly nod your head, only for you to pounce on him the moment your wrists are released. The tunic is gone as soon as your body collides with his, causing a strained gasp to leave your twin’s lips. While just the thoughts of his warm skin on yours have incite your mind already, seeing his bare chest sets your body alight.

His demeanor changes in the blink of an eye, and he has never treated you as roughly as he does when he pushes you off of him. It leaves you dumbfounded for a moment, more so when he moves between your parted legs, towering over you.

“Look how dull this fluid has made you,” he mocks, the condescending tone of his voice sending a shiver up your spine. Aemond notices that you’re not shying away from him, no, you keen at that. “Just because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

“If I help you,” he warns, “no one else, let alone that bastard of a nephew, is ever allowed to touch you again, do you understand?”

It might be the liquid-induced state, or the despair to have him do anything to you already, but you’re far too eager to nod at his words.

Aemond’s hand wanders below the hem of your nightgown to heartily fist your undergarments and peel them off of you. He can already feel that the linen is soaked with your arousal, but still can’t stop himself from licking his lips as he sees your now exposed cunt glistening in the light of the candles.

“Now, we do not want you to suffer any longer, hm?” he asks.

And you nod once again. “Gods, yes, please. I need you, Aemond.”

You don’t have to beg him any longer. He undoes the laces in the front of his breeches and pulls out his throbbing cock, painfully hard and aching to be buried inside of you. It’s slightly curved and thick, and if you have to guess, you’d say that you need both hands to pleasure him, and even then there’d still be a bit of him that would be left abandoned.

Aemond wastes no time in lining himself up with your entrance, pushing into you as you both moan in unison. You don’t expect him to set up a merciless pace almost immediately upon fully bottoming out, but you’re not disappointed either.

While you’ve been able to talk before, he’s quickly reduced you to a whimpering and whining mess, relishing in the delicious burning of accommodating his sheer size.

“Does it help?” your twin asks through gritted teeth, desperately trying to keep his sounds of pleasure at bay. But you’ve been fucked into a stupor by him already, not even able to keep your eyes open. “Mh-mh,” you hum.

Putting some of his weight onto you, Aemond’s hand finds your throat like the most treasured necklace you only take off to sleep, taking up the entirety of your neck and leaving no room for you to shift even the slightest.

It was subtle at first, but the merciless pace slowly changes into something more determined, his hips rolling with each thrust as if he wants to make sure the tip of his cock really brushes your sweet spot every time. He’s seemingly spurred on by the way you’ve lost all inhibitions, not that the fluid allowed you to have any in the first place, and the wanton moans that spill past your lips.

One of your hands grabs his wrist, keeping his hand around your throat, while the other finds solace on his shoulder, gripping it tightly. Your nails dig into his alabaster skin, and you’re sure that crescent shaped marks will bloom there not long after, staking your claim on him.

“But you need more,” Aemond grunts, and you can’t do more than whimper a pathetic string of yesses. “The only thing that will truly help you is for me to fill you up with my seed, to breed you.”

Your head tips back in plain bliss, and you’re not sparing one thought to the possible repercussions of him putting a child in you. If anything, there is something buried deeply inside of you that has waited for this moment. You have waited for this moment. You grew up thinking you’d marry your twin one day, only for the rising tensions inside of the family to force you to marry your nephew instead as the final straw to mend the chasm.

Aemond’s stamina doesn’t seem to be able to handle the way your body reacts to him and his words – not when a renewed wave of your arousal drips from your cunt at the mere thought of you carrying his child. It’s running thin, ready to burst at any given moment, hence he brings a deft finger to your pearl, rubbing it with frantic movements that should bring you to peak just in time with him.

The pressure brought to your pearl has your body squirming, not anticipating it and the shiver of pleasure that comes with it. You arch your back and moan, yet a tight squeeze of your throat is enough to bring your attention back to him.

“Do you want that?” he pants, dark blown eyes fixed with yours. “Want me to put a babe in you?” It might be his way to ask for your reassurance, and while your body’s reaction should be enough with your walls clenching around him so tightly, he stills wants to hear your voice.

Your cheeks grow hot as his words finally seem to settle in your hazed mind, a whiny ‘yes’ slipping past your lips. “Fill me up, Aemond… please. I want it,” you all but beg, your voice croaked with him squeezing your throat.

The confession flips a switch inside of you that allows you to let go, your body shattering beneath Aemond with a pathetic whine. He relishes in the way your walls flutter and spasm all over him, utterly mesmerized as relief etches itself into your features.

With a groan, the first wanton sound of pleasure you’ve heard of him, Aemond spends himself inside of you. He connects your lips in a heated kiss that has you swallowing down each grunt and groan he unleashes. Working you both through the blissful highs, his hips only stop once he’s sure he’s fucked his seed as deep as possible, determined to put a child in you.

Aemond topples over into the vacant space next to you, his breeches soaked with your arousal and his chest heaving with his breaths.

The sudden loss of friction makes you whine at first, but is quickly overshadowed by the feeling of relief. “Thank you,” you whisper through heavy breaths, turning your head to look at him.

“I won’t leave now,” he says softly, although there is a linger of mischief in his voice. “I would be remiss not to aid my sister in her hour of utmost desperation… so, I shall stay the night just to make sure you really get through it.”

Aemond Taglist: @persephonerinyes @dr-aegon @schniiipsel @thekinslayed @baizzhu @legitalicat

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bouncybongfairy · 1 year ago

Text

Late Night At Fazbear's

Mike Schmidt x Fem Reader

Summary: Mike is an ex-coworker with whom you have a situationship with. Knowing about your interest in arcade games, he invites you to visit him at an abandoned pizzeria to check it out. Things get a little heated before you get a chance to look around.

Word Count: 2.5k+

(!This is a smut fanfic, you’ve been warned!)

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You were working on some last-minute statistics homework after you got out of the shower. It was a Friday night and even though you got an offer from your friend group to go out, you decided to stay home. Going to house party after party was getting annoying. Half the time, the only people there were drunk frat boys trying to get some before their whiskey dick kicked in. Being a wing girl for your friends was fun the first thirty times but now you’d rather stay home. Things in your life seemed so stagnant, it was like all you did was school, work, then bumming it at home. Like you were some uncharismatic dad in a sitcom. Suddenly your phone goes off, which breaks you out of the trance you were in. When you answered, you immediately recognized the voice to be Mike from the pizza place you guys used to work at together. You thought it was kinda weird that he was calling you so randomly but you did talk often when working together. For reasons that still are unclear, you answered.

“Hey! Sorry I know this is- it’s kinda random but can you talk for a second?” his voice spoke over the receiver.

“Yeah, I’m just hanging out at home. What’s up?” you asked, now standing up to pace around your room.

“Oh cool cool, so kinda weird to explain but bear with me here. Remember how you were super obsessed with the old arcade games we had in the back of the pizza shop? Anyway, I got this new job at an old pizzeria and there’s a bunch of old games and animatronics. I was thinking while I’m working the graveyard shift you could maybe swing by for an hour or two and check it out with me?” His voice was so sweet and soft-spoken that you couldn’t help but blush over the phone. You coiled your finger around the wire of the landline.

“Umm, yeah that sounds kinda fun actually, when are you there till?” you asked with a hint of a smirk on your face.

“My shift starts at 12 am and ends at 6 am, no pressure. Obviously, I’ll be here all night,” he laughed.

“Yeah, I’ll call you right before I leave okay?” you asked softly.

“Yeah that’s perfect, I’ll see you then,” he said.

You put the phone back on its hook and check the time on your alarm clock. To your dismay, you’d been studying for two hours and it was 10:50. Luckily you’d already showered but that wasn’t the problem. Internally, you were going through a moral dilemma. Part of you was telling yourself that he was just a coworker that got attached and another part, wanted to do your hair and make-up and hair before going. Making sure that every strand sat just right as if he’d somehow notice. To make sure your eyelashes have the exact amount of mascara they need to be long but not clumpy. If you thought all these things, wouldn’t that mean you do care what he thinks of you? Although you were bubbling with a mix of nervousness and anticipation, you managed to finish getting ready. You start packing your bag, pacing around looking for all your items. Car keys, pocket knife, compact, body spray, and your wallet. As you went to take the cartoon of cigarettes from your bedside table, you thought about taking the joint that was rolled. Sitting on your knees in front of your nightstand, you start dialing Mike’s number to let him know you are on the way. After shoving all the contents into the bag, you make your way outside and start your Mazda. You were sitting in the car for a few moments, thinking about if you were really going.

Once you pulled into the parking lot, thoughts of regret started to bubble in your brain. You would have turned around if it weren’t for Mike’s car being in the parking lot. You checked the time on the radio and saw that it was only 12:57, was it weird that you were there so early? You were slightly worried that it would look desperate. Deciding to let that unneeded anxiety go, you get out of the car and lock your doors. Take a moment to take in the outside of the building. It appeared to be severely unkempt, brown vines covered most of the building. Due to the unsettling vibe of the building, the bear that was supposed to look cute and inviting was the exact opposite. Creating an ominous feeling as it waved at you. The walls were mostly a dull yellow color with red and blue accents and a black and white checkered line across the middle. One of the R’s of the sign was out, only adding to the sketchy feeling. You knocked on the big metal doors, wiping your knuckles off on your jeans. When Mike swung the door open, it made you jump and gasp. This caused him to break out into a fit of laughter. You playfully pushed his shoulder back.

He took you back to the small room where he was monitoring all the security footage. The room was more creepy than the outside of the building. You sat down on the desk and Mike plopped down on his office chair. He was completely slouched back, wearing a gray thermal and a dark hooded sweater. His hair was more curly than shaggy and he had a five o’clock shadow. You set your purse on the desk and stood up, looking at the security cameras. One of the first things you noticed was the group of animatronics that were standing on the stage together. It was then that you realized what you really had gotten yourself into.

He was surprised that you even came, yes you guys had become close while working together but he didn’t think it would lead to anything after. You were currently facing away from him, and he couldn’t help but admire you as you did so. He liked the fact that you were so well put together. Your jeans were fitted perfectly and your thong peaked out slightly from the top of your waistband. When you entered the small room, the entire space began to smell like apple-scented perfume. The white long sleeve was also very fitted, which brought attention to your figure. You turned around once you noticed it had been silent for a while. Grabbing your purse, you pull out the cartoon of cigs. Bringing the lighter to it and taking a drag to light it. After taking a couple of puffs you pass it to Mike who leans forward with a groan. As he took his hit, a piece of ash fell onto his pants. You leaned down and brushed it off his knee.

“So much for cutting back right?” he asked rhetorically.

“Oh yeah, I did switch to Spirits though. My grandma swore by these,” you said taking it back.

“Do you smoke weed?” he asked, you laughed and started digging through your bag and pulled out the Altoids container, grabbing the joint.

“Will you get in trouble? For like, smoking on the job?” you asked.

“Oh no, this place is abandoned. There’s usually nobody in and out of here that would notice,” he said.

You lit the joint and took a deep drag, blowing the smoke at his face playfully. He laughed as he took the joint into his hands and inhaled. You put the cig out on the glass ashtray that sat on the desk. He commented on how good the flower tasted which made you relieved knowing he didn’t think it was reggie. You guys started talking about memories of working together. You guys would always take smoke breaks together and go to lunch every once and a while. Mike actually listened to what you had to say. He wasn’t the type of person that constantly changed to a conversation with himself. A lot of guys you spoke with were usually just telling you whatever you wanted to hear. Everything you had to say was so fascinating and impressive because they were just trying to butter you up. Mike would actually give his opinions on things and would tell you if he thought what you were saying was stupid. It was refreshing, to be honest, to have an interaction with the opposite sex without them drooling on you. You glanced over at Mike, maybe it was the weed but something felt different now. The way his legs were spread so widely made something in you feel hot. Eyes were now bloodshot, making the hazel color stand out even more than before. When he reached for the joint again, his hand brushed over yours. This made you make eye contact with him but then break away once the awkwardness set in. You looked down and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Are you still with Jackson?” he asked.

“What? Oh yeah, we broke up a while ago,” you said, rubbing your arm.

“Well, what happened? I mean… If you don’t mind me asking,” he said.

“No it’s- he just..” you took a deep inhale and spoke as the smoke poured out of your mouth, “he was really aggressive like, not just with his words. Not saying he beat me or anything but some things are meant to be more sweet and gentle. Sorry, I don’t know why I'm telling you this,” you said, passing it back.

“No, I’m the one who brought it up. He always was a little misogynistic when we talked, I’m sorry you were subjected to that,” he said. You were sitting on the desk, you kicked off your sandals and gently swung your legs back and forth.

“Yeah, I guess it just wasn’t meant to be,” you sighed.

“For sure, you could do so much better than that,” he said.

“Oh yeah? When you say better what do you mean by that?” you asked, leaning over to grab the joint.

“Like if you said he was overly aggressive then you’ll find someone that is more gentle and shit,” he said, chuckling a little.

“Oh, I see,” you moved your foot so that it was resting on his inner thigh before continuing, “Maybe you could show me?” you asked flirtatiously, he looked up and looked at you with a shocked expression.

You used your leg to roll him closer to where you were sitting. He was now smirking, looking up at you. He let his hands slide up both your outer thighs. He pulled you off the desk so that you were now sitting in his lap facing him. You still had the joint in your hand, you took a hit before letting it sit on the ashtray. Your noses were touching and you were relieved to see that his breath was as fast as yours. Running your fingers through his hair, forcing his head to tilt back a little. You ran your bottom lip across his, arching your back and pressing your crotches together. He picked you up which caused you to wrap your legs around his waist. He set you on the desk again so that he was standing, hovering over you. You reached your hands down between your bodies, trying to unbuckle his belt. He stopped the kiss and chuckled at your eagerness and helped you. As you unzipped his jeans, one of his arms reached behind you and undid the clasps of your bra. The way he unhooked it with one hand made you throb. He pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in nothing but jeans. He still had his jeans on but now that his pants were undone, you could feel how hard he was through his boxers. It was like the heat coming off his dick was making your stomach feel warm and tight. Before he buried his face into your chest, the look on his face was almost primal. Like it was taking everything he had to keep his hands off of you. He took one of your breasts into his mouth and sucked, biting down every once in a while. He reached into his backpack that was sitting on the desk and pulled out a condom. He was breathing heavily and a couple of drips of sweat were beading down his forehead. As you unzipped your jeans you looked over at the security camera and thought you saw one of the animatronics move from the stage. You pulled away for a second to show him,

“Mike, I know we smoked and everything. Oh my god, I know this is going to be crazy but I swear I just saw one of those… things moved,” you said as he trailed kisses up your shoulder.

“This is my third day here and I think that all the time. It’s just your head playing tricks on us because of how creepy they look,” he said, then tearing the foil package open.

“Are you sure because I could have..” you started but then were interrupted by Mike throwing the still-packaged condom onto the desk and pressing a button that made both doors close around you. He then got down on his knees and gripped the top of your jeans, pulling them down. Instead of trying to pull your panties off of you, he simply pulls them to the side. Sticking his tongue in between your folds, massaging your clit. You had been in a dry spell since you broke up with Jackson and even then, he would never go down on you. The feeling of his mouth pressed against you was so euphoric, the moans that came out of your mouth were completely natural and unrehearsed. His pace was slow but he kept a steady rhythm which helped you chase to your climax. Instead of pulling at his hair, you cupped his face, gently stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. He looked up and made direct eye contact with you. His eyebrows were furrowed but when he saw the look on your face, his eyes closed and he groaned loudly. He grabbed your ankles and pushed your legs back so that your feet were now on the desk. You grabbed two fistfuls of hair and threw your head back, moaning loudly. The pressure of the top of your thighs being pressed into your lower stomach. Crying out as you cum, the moans came out strangled. As you started to come down from the wave of ecstasy, you began to feel insecure about how fast he made you cum.

“God you are so fucking hot, like seriously I almost came in my boxers,” he said standing up and grabbing the condom. His lips were parted and his mouth was still covered in saliva. Without wiping his mouth, he slid the rubber onto his shaft.

“Sorry, do you want to keep going?” he asked, you didn’t verbally respond. Instead, you grabbed him by his shirt and smashed your mouth into his. He moaned the word ‘fuck’ into your mouth before continuing kissing. He broke away to look down and line himself up with your entrance. You were still wet and swollen from the previous orgasm, enabling him to slide in with you easily. He dropped his forehead down on your shoulder, mouth open and moaning as he slowly started rocking back and forth into you. You scooted your ass down so that you could fully be pressed against his hips. The desk was continuously banging up against the wall. Your foreheads were now pressed together groaning and growling into each other’s mouth. Everything suddenly came to a halt when everything went dark. You both jump and start looking for any articles of clothing that are nearby. The big metal doors on both sides of you slam open so loud, that your ears start ringing.

“What the fuck just happened!” you exclaim.

“The battery died,” he realizes.

“Well has that ever happened while you’re working?” you asked.

“No,” he stated.

“Holy fuck, do you hear that fucking music?” you whispered.

#fnaf fanfic #josh hutcherson fnaf #fnaf x reader #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt x reader #michael schmidt #michael schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt

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hangesdarling · 8 months ago

Note

Idea! Hange who finds out her rival in the scouts is actually just a massive bottom

rivals, right? — h. zoë

PAIRING. Hange Zoë x female reader SYNOPSIS. You and your rival Hange were forced to sleep in one tent for an expedition. CONTENT. 18+, MDNI, nipple sucking, fingering, oral sex, a bit slow burn WORD COUNT. 2.1k A/N. sorry anon i missed the part where they're scouts :") they're both section commanders on this one though. hope that's alright!

"I'm not sleeping with you," you groaned, the irritation sharp enough to cut through the night.

"You make it sound weird when we're just sleeping in one tent," Hange said with an amused laugh, padding up the tent floor with a few blankets so it wouldn't be too rocky to lie down on.

So annoying, you might be thinking. Hange always acts coy, teasing even as if your constant clash and rivalry were an amusement of some sort. Years of training and expeditions, even as scouts, Hange always managed to be linked with you. Both were labeled the smartest, both became section commanders at the same time, and both were considered respectable researchers. Your titles always one up with the other, a tight competition you never seemed to have an agreement on.

"Ugh, why is it always with you?" You mumbled behind the notebook you're scribbling on. It was loud enough to reach Hange's ears.

"Sorry, dear. Every tent is occupied," they said simply. Hange placed two makeshift pillows, peeking over the tent as if waiting for you to come inside. You glanced in their direction but turned away almost instantly.

"I'll be out here for a while," you muttered, focused on scribbling on your notes. Hange looked over your shoulder in curiosity, crawling beside you.

"Observations, huh?" Hange remarked, pushing their glasses up so their eyes could follow your scribbles.

You blushed at being observed, quickly hiding the notes you were writing.

"Nah, just listing why my research is more relevant than yours," you saved yourself from awkwardness, pulling a smug smile.

Hange laughed, tilting their head almost mockingly. "That's kinda pathetic, don't you think?"

"Heh, not when I get those two titans for my experiment," you replied, lips curling into a smirk.

Ah, so damn stubborn, Hange thought. They shook their head lightly, still amused by how you managed to pull this stubborn behavior with them for years. You're typically kind and soft-spoken with other scouts, an authority to be respected, not feared. But Hange finds it almost ridiculous when you both act like bickering children around each other.

"Would it kill you to share a titan with me? Besides, Erwin said we only get to capture one titan each."

"Out of all people, you should know that won't be enough," you replied. The situation you're both in just hardens your stubbornness. How could humanity thrive and gain knowledge when research is always limited? Tight budget, the shitty authority; Survey Corps never seems to run out of problems.

"Well, we have to work with our limited resources, you know," Hange explained. "We're not supported enough in terms of this. Our supplies are insufficient. That's probably why we're sharing a tent."

"I'll do something about that," you mumbled like a steadfast promise. "Just go to sleep for now."

Hange looks at you for a while, perhaps in admiration or judgment. But in any way, they see the reflection of their resolve.

"You should sleep too. It would be a long day tomorrow. Good night, Y/N."

Do something about it, huh? Hange slept with that curious thought, wondering what risky method would you try to pull in the next few days.

---

Being outside the walls stopped feeling new after your tenth or fifteenth expedition. As a scout, you always have some sort of fear just from the countless tales of unsuccessful expeditions and a tower of dead bodies after one.

But now, you managed to expertly map through the routes outside just from memory. Where titans roam the least or the best view to watch over their behavior.

You were sitting atop a branch of a large tree, binoculars in hand, and planning where to stage the capture. Your mind went through the manpower and equipment sent with you outside, wincing at the fact that the capture could be dangerous. Hange managed to develop a catching net some months ago, ensuring a safe capture. However, with the tight route and a precarious amount of titan, you doubt that this capture would be entirely safe.

From another tree, Hange was watching titans, observing how slow they usually walk without bait. They are focusing. Supposedly.

But now and then, their binoculars would travel over where you sat, the lenses perfectly capturing your distress at the current conundrum.

No sooner, you felt another presence at the tree—Hange's familiar footsteps, careful to reach you on that wide branch.

"You're worrying about the route, isn't it?" you heard them whisper behind you as you lowered your own binoculars.

"Not just that," you sighed defeatedly, head on your hands. "I was thinking that two titans really wouldn't be enough for us even if we shared."

You handed Hange your notebook much to their surprise. They flipped over the pages, gaining an understanding of your concerns. Your desired experiment might be ambitious and idealistic but it would be helpful if you succeeded. But with resources so limited and countless lives to take into consideration, how would you able to do this?

Hange sat beside you, still thumbing over some pages. Even if you're turning your face away, Hange could tell you were trying hard not to tear up from the frustration and possibility of loss. This was important for you after all. They've watched you study, observe, and create all of these for over a year.

They placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly before saying, "We could do something about this, you know that. Come with me."

----

"Why do you always kick your blanket off when you sleep?" Hange asked curiously one night in the tent.

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do! I had to tuck it beneath your feet at least three times last night," Hange argued.

"My, don't bother with it..." You brushed it off, turning away from them to hide your face. You tried to trace back since when Hange Zoë's relationship with you became so casual, almost friendly. If your mind wanders far enough, you might consider something else happening. Affection, maybe. But you shrugged all those thoughts off, reminding yourself that the plan you agreed on was purely for science and the advancement of humanity.

"But you're weak to coldness," Hange continued, covering you in several layers of blanket, ignoring the pout on your lips. They had a grin on their face when they said, "Don't want my research partner getting sick, do I?"

"We're not research partners," you frowned.

"Eh, why not? I just told you my whole plan and you agreed with it."

"Doesn't mean we're partners from now on."

"God, you're one stubborn lady," Hange chuckled, a sigh escaping their lips. They pulled their blankets over them, slowly dozing off. Outside, the night was filled with the gentle chirps of crickets, chorusing at one point. Even with such proximity, you could feel Hange's warmth, their gentle breathing only conveyed that they must also be awake.

---

The next morning, you and Hange's plan set into motion, traps were located strategically in a different route. Both of you were taking full liability for what would happen in the days to come, informing the soldiers about the need to capture four titans to sufficiently conduct the research. It wasn't the safest plan, some were hesitant but many trusted your scheme since all of you share a common goal.

You commander your unit, imparting knowledge of the best actions to take. But for the remaining hours, your eyes remained on your notebook, pretending to check details to reach the optimum result. However, Hange knew you had an entirely different reason. Maybe to interact less with them, afraid they would bring up how you two ended up tangled in each other's arms last night.

---

"I'm just letting you know that won't happen again," you said flatly, eyes boring upwards through the tent as you lay down.

Hange turned their head to you, their lips forming into a subtle smirk once more. "What is?"

"Um, last night..." you said in a low voice.

"Ah, you mean when you're hugging me so tightly?" Hange asked smugly.

You bit your lip, trying to save yourself from this. "I was asleep. Not responsible for my actions, but forgive me for disturbing your sleep."

Much to your surprise, Hange hovered over you, their deep brown eyes glinting almost knowingly against the dark space inside. The atmosphere thickened, your heart ramming louder than the sounds of night.

"No need to apologize for anything, sweetheart," they whispered, their eyes following your lips the way your eyes do for them. In that heated moment, all that you've both held in flooded out like a dam breaking and gushing to spill over. Hange placed a firm hand on your shoulder, keeping you pinned on the blankets as their lips met yours. It was a firm kiss, your lips nearly melting into each other's. Your hands traveled on Hange's hair where you tug and pull them closer. Hange sat you up in their lap, gaining better access of your neck and chest. Their hands snaked under your clothes as they ask for permission to go further each time to which you only nod.

"If you want to have me so bad, you shouldn't have spent years being annoying," you muttered into the kiss.

"Says the one who wouldn't let go of me last night," Hange smirked, a thumb circling your clothed breasts. "Besides, you should've picked up on it early on. You're so smart after all."

"You know, you look more attractive when you shut up," you muttered as you fell on top of Hange. Their flushed face look at you expectantly, expecting you would dominate this whole ordeal. After all, they saw you in that dominant, commanding light after years of leadership.

But Hange noticed how flustered you were just from being on top of them. Your thighs kept straddled on their lap, your hands resting on their shoulder, not knowing where to hold on. Hange smirked, taking it as a sign to flip you over once more. Their breath was warm against your ear as they whispered, "It's okay, Y/N. Let me do it for you."

Hange locked your lips in a kiss once more, bundling your shirt on your chest. Their lips slithered from your lips down to your throat, reaching the trail between your breasts. They kept one firm hand on your wrist as their tongue gently circled one of your nipples, sucking their lips on the hardened bud.

Hange covered your mouth before you let out high-pitched noises from the sensation.

"Shhhh... You don't want your subordinates to hear you, right?" They smiled against the darkness.

The night was slow and heated as you let Hange do wonders with their mouth and fingers, always managing to draw out a soundless moan from you. Your lips could only part, your hands clenching around their body. They were amused to see you follow along and nod with their wishes, so compliant with their charm.

Hange had the button of your blouse open, your breasts spilling out into their face and the warm flesh of your stomach open for their wet kisses.

"You know," Hange began, drawing their fingers in and out of you at a teasingly, slow pace. "I didn't expect this much submission from you."

"Shut up, Hange..." you breathed out, a hand over your eyes as you were beginning to write against their fingers. Hange held down your hip, tugging your pants a bit more so they could have more access to you.

"As you wish, m'lady," Hange placed a kiss on your clit before gently lapping up the warm wetness gathering on your slit.

Hange kept on until the faint light of dawn slitted through your tent. You forgot just how much stamina they had to draw one orgasm after another from you. They only stopped when you've whined and writhed enough under them, pleading for a break. Hange fixed up your clothes, smoothed out your hair, and drew the blanket over you again as if nothing happened. Their wet lips kissed you once more as they said, "You still have a few hours to sleep. Sleep tight, sweetheart."

---

The capture will take place during the afternoon. The equipment was set, and the soldiers were preparing their ODM gear for however long the capture may last.

The scouts passed by, even some of your friends, noticing the slight shift of the atmosphere but couldn't quite put it into words. Maybe this time their section commanders weren't bickering as usual. They went with that fresh start in high spirits, brushing off their suspicions whenever they saw Hange place an arm around your waist or whisper something to make you laugh or blush. Your unit didn't think much of it, even attributing it as a minor hallucination or a ripple in the universe. There's no way their section commanders are getting affectionate.

After all, you're rivals, right?

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

505 notes · View notes

kissatoru · 1 year ago

Text

𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔

content · NSFW MDNI, college au, dom/sub dynamics, bratty sub!eren, mean to soft dom!reader, gn!reader, dry humping, humiliation, nipple play, degradation, praise, edging, handjob, blowjob

wc · ~6.8k

notes · couldn’t help making it soft at the end! i’ve reread this so many times i genuinely have no idea if it’s good but i hope you enjoyed it<3

House parties aren’t really your thing. You’ve been to a few but you quickly discovered that they involve a lot more vomit and interpersonal drama than you have the tolerance for, so you tend to avoid them. You would’ve turned down the invitation for this one too, if it wasn’t for the fact that it was Eren Jaeger who offered it up to you. That’s why you’re here, at the house of someone who’s a friend of a friend’s friend, at sometime past midnight.

You’re leaning against the wall, sipping on a half-empty can of pop, when you finally spot Eren, making his way over to you with a grin much too wide for someone who’s late to a party he invited you to. He looks good, dressed in a white tank top that brings out the musculature of his arms and black skinny jeans you’ve only ever seen him wear to parties like this one, since he usually wears sweatpants everywhere else. His hair is half-down and half-up in a bun, not too different from the usual messy man bun he goes for.

Once he arrives at your side, beer can in hand, you exchange greetings and small talk, talking about nothing and everything. In the middle of a conversation, some drunk rando throws up by your feet, so you and eren migrate to a different room. On the way though, another person bumps into you and spills their drink down your shirt. It doesn’t help that you were already damp with sweat from how hot and stuffy it is, as well as nauseous from the lingering stench of vomit mixed with alcohol and BO. You meet their eyes with hellfire on your tongue and in any other situation, you would’ve let it loose, but the way they paw at your clothes and slur their apology reminds you that you’re in a house full of clumsy idiots just like them, so you just shrug it off and focus on finding a bathroom to clean up in.

That’s what Eren likes about you. You’re down-to-earth and keep to yourself, but don’t let people walk over you and speak out when you need to; you’re not exactly timid, but you’re soft-spoken in a way that suits your voice and nice to people without being overly nice. Oh and don’t get him started on your witty humour and the way you play off other people’s jokes so effortlessly; even when you shake your head or roll your eyes or just ignore him after he tells a joke that doesn’t land, he’s buzzing. That’s why he’s been ogling you during your shared lectures, the reason he keeps ‘losing’ his pens and asking to borrow from you, the reason he keeps ‘forgetting’ to give them back, the reason he asked you out to this party! Something about you just got Eren hooked, to the point that he couldn’t stop thinking about you, to the point he would wake up with a boner almost every morning and jerk off from what he remembered of his dreams about you; to the point those dreams turned into fantasies, imagining what your body looks like under your clothes, what your moans sound like, what faces you’d make.

You, on the other hand, didn’t have any strong feelings toward Eren until later. You thought of him as kind of average, if not a little loud and annoying at times, such as when he disrupted class, but in a word, tolerable, and definitely not the worst classmate you’ve ever had. Usually, you’d never give a guy like him the time of day unless he actually tried to pursue you (instead of just flirting and joking around aimlessly) but your interest was piqued after your friends passed on to you some rumours about him being a self-proclaimed ‘hardcore dom’. From that point on, you were just as hooked. You became less dismissive and a little more friendly, playing along with his game — long enough so that he’d never see it coming once you finally sunk your claws into him.

That’s why, when you finally find the bathroom, you stop in the doorway, turn to Eren in your stained shirt and say, “Do you mind helping me clean up?”

The excitement in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed as he answers a nonchalant, “Yeah, sure,” and follows you inside. The soft click of the lock has Eren’s pulse jumping because he knows exactly where this is going. He knew you had to feel something back, that you couldn’t resist his advances forever. His eyes scan you shamelessly while you pull your top over your head and start wiping your chest down with a towel. He leans against the door and comments, “Hey now, you might give a guy the wrong idea taking off your clothes like that,” and that’s what sets everything else into motion.

“Yeah?” you say as you step closer. Your voice is hushed, lowered, as if to whisper a dirty secret. “How do you know it’s the wrong idea?”

Eren falters at your forwardness, but runs a palm over his hair and regains his composure. “I guess I don’t,” he says, not even trying to hide the way he’s staring at your lips. “So, is it?” His dark gaze flicks back up to your eyes. “The wrong idea?”

You smile and make sure to bat your eyelashes extra prettily as you whisper, “Why don’t you kiss me and find out?”

His lips are on you as soon as you finish the question and his hands grasp at you while he backs you up against the door. He kisses you feverishly and as impatiently as you’ve been feeling this entire night. You let him kiss along your jaw, down your neck, across your collarbone, but before he can get too carried away, you guide him back to your lips. This time, you take over leadership in the kiss. Eren smirks, mistaking it for eagerness, until a skilled tongue slides into his mouth and your hands begin to touch him with confidence and ease. His breath hitches once, twice, and it only spirals from there. He’s gasping and panting in seconds, overwhelmed and barely managing to keep up. Slowly but surely, you’re pushing back, and he can feel himself giving in, involuntarily yielding to you like it’s a biological instinct. He doesn’t even realise how bad it is until it’s too late, until his back is pressed against the door and his centre of gravity becomes you, staring at him with a look he’s never seen on your face before.

“You’re real pretty, you know that, right?” you tell him as you tuck some of the loose hair from his bun behind his ear. Eren opens his mouth, presumably to bark out a retort at your (what he believes to be) demeaning choice of words, but all that comes out is a quiet moan as your knee rides up between his legs. You take advantage of that and slip your thumb inside, pressing down on his tongue and opening his mouth wider. “So pretty,” you add in a croon, but then he brings his teeth down and bites your thumb. You don’t give him the satisfaction of a pained reaction, settling for a disappointed glare and a tight grip of his jaw. “Don’t be a brat now, Jaeger. You don’t wanna know what I do to brats.” Interestingly, the lump against your knee twitches. You arch an eyebrow. “Oh? Or maybe you do?”

His eyes are on yours, seemingly stern and rebellious but you know it’s just a ruse; you know begging for mercy when you see it. Such eyes suit him, you’ll give him that, but you’d have to be a fool not to take this opportunity, to give him that final nudge, those final few centimetres he needs to be all yours. So you whisper into his ear, the kinds of things he’s used to saying and worse, until he’s flushed and speechless, stuttering over his breaths and holding back whines. It’s almost too easy when you lean down to his neck, and he just lifts his chin and gives it to you, without you even having to ask. You reward him with red kisses and purple lovebites that have the skin beneath your lips thrumming with suppressed moans. It’s such a treat too, how affected he is when you’ve barely even started.

Some part of Eren is still screaming at him to steal back his dignity and the role he’s made a reputation out of, but his pants are damp and so tight it hurts, it’s really not his fault when he starts grinding against your knee in search of relief. You find it adorable, really, and smirk against his neck as you press your knee forward in an act of pity. A whimper slips from him and he ruts against you faster, more desperately, so desperately. He almost sobs because he was sure your actions would be as cruel as your words, but he’s too caught up in chasing his high to feel relieved or thankful. He focuses only on moving his hips, back and forth, back and forth, and holy shit, is he really about to come already? In his pants, like some teenager?

He stops his movements, shaking with the effort of keeping still. With clammy hands, he hurries to undo his jeans, but you snatch them away and pin them to the wall. Your curled lips indicate that you understand the situation just fine without an explanation, yet you still have the audacity to say, “What’s the matter? Don’t you wanna come?” your tone all flowery and pure as you pick up where he left off, mercilessly rubbing his cock through the fabric.

“No, no, no, fuck,” Eren chokes out, even as he betrays himself by meeting your knee halfway, but he just can’t stop! His peak is drawing closer and closer and his downward motions just get harder and faster. It feels so good and he’s so, so–

“Don’t come yet.”

Eren’s first thought is: how the fuck is he supposed to do that? But then his second thought is: why would he listen to you anyway? What authority do you have over him? And yet what comes out of his mouth is, “Please–”

“Begging so soon?” you say against his lips. “That’s sweet, it really is.” You let go of his wrists and trail your hands down his arms to his chest, then over a nipple experimentally, grinning when you feel it pebble under your light touch. You give it some more attention, circling and rubbing it through the fabric until Eren’s hands are clutching your shoulders and he’s curling in on himself trying to escape the foreign sensation. He never thought that part of his body could feel... good?

You suddenly pinch and twist it and Eren whines. The pain is sharp, and yet that’s what has his orgasm returning. With only a few more grinds against your knee, it’s hitting him fast, from all angles, and the thing he’s been dreading finally comes true. He soaks his underwear with cum, hot and sticky and disgusting. He moans weakly, digging his blunt fingernails into your shoulders as his head raises up against the door.

You sigh, disappointed. “I didn’t say you could come.”

Eren is standing there, trying to catch his breath and too out of it to respond to you, when you suddenly grab him through his pants. His back arches at the overstimulation and you’re smiling because of course you are as your hand massages over his bulge and the horrid squelching sounds remind him of his shame. He tries to get away from the stimulation, gasping out, “Stop, stop, stop!” but when you don’t hear that lovely ‘please’ you only quicken your ministrations.

“You’re such a pervert, Eren,” you taunt, soft and sultry, as if you weren’t humiliating him with your words. “Coming in your pants from having your nipples played with? And it’s only been like, what, a minute?”

His cheeks turn pink, his eyebrows knit together, and all he can say is a shaky, “Shut up.”

You snicker. “Aw, don’t be embarrassed. It’s cute! You’re just like a virgin.”

“I’m not a virgin,” he croaks out, and it’s true, but you pretend to be unconvinced so you can watch him rush to make you believe him while his face blooms a darker shade of pink and his cock hardens at your touch — or maybe your words? Either way, you continue palming him until his defiant expression fades, until it’s replaced by parted lips and hooded eyes.

Then you pull away, just as he’s starting to buck into your palm. You relish the way he looks at you, so questioning and betrayed. You wish you could see what other faces you can get him to make, but now that you’ve given him a taste, you intend to take it all away. It’s the funnest part of this all; leaving him wanting after planting the seed of what could be into his mind, letting him continue with his life of hook-ups and one-night-stands before he inevitably comes running back to you. It would be so easy now to lose your patience and ravage him like a starved man, sure, but that takes away the fun in taking him apart piece by piece. You’ve come all this way; it would be a shame not to savour it.

“Why did you stop?”

There it is, you think, and you can’t help smiling. “You told me to,” you answer as you take a step back. Eren stands there, the start of a protest falling from his lips. You don’t wait for him to finish, instead reaching for your shirt and putting it back on.

“Hey,” Eren scoffs and grabs your arm. “You can’t just leave.” His tone is light-hearted, but you can tell he’s being serious, and that it’s more like a plea rather than the statement it’s phrased as.

“Oh, can’t I?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “Why not?”

Eren looks at you, then his crotch. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this lost for words.

You just laugh through your nose, like he’s told a bad joke. “This is your punishment, Eren. You should remember it next time you think about disobeying me.” You wave your hand for him to move, but he lingers, so you give him a pointed look, a silent demand. He steps out of the way and you open the door. “See you in class on Monday,” you say over your shoulder before shutting the door behind you.

Standing there with his heart still pounding with adrenaline, Eren realises that he was right before; your actions are as cruel as your words, crueller even, he just guessed too soon. He should be livid — you’ve left him covered in hickeys, with an aching boner and cum that’s still warm in his pants — but all he can think about is two words: next time. Even after days have passed, he doesn’t stop thinking about them. He clings to them like a lifeline, every day and every class with you after that; turning those words over, listening to the echo of your voice in his mind, the way your lips moved around those two bittersweet syllables. He thinks about them for an entire three weeks before they finally come into existence thanks to a class assignment that gets the two of you paired up.

You avoid inviting him over too soon, purposely offering to meet up at cafés and the campus library. At first, they were nothing more than that: just doing actual work for the assignment. But soon enough, you start to tease and distract him; a foot skimming his inner calf one too many times to be an accident, a hand on his thigh that rubs up and down but never more. It’s torture, yet Eren feels giddy at the prospect of it leading up to something more, every single time, wondering if this will be the time you go further.

There’s one time he’s sure you will. It starts out innocent, you asking him to get a book that’s too high up for you. As he reaches for it, his shirt lifts up, revealing a strip of his v-line and the waistband of his boxers, how the edge of skin above it is slightly paler, where his tan didn’t reach...

It’s gone as soon as it appears and usually your thoughts would vanish with it — except the aisle happens to be dowsed in shadows from a broken light and the closest person around is on the other side of the library. Eo instead of your urges slipping away, it’s your self-restraint, and rather than taking the book, you take his wrist. Then you pin him to wall and use your other hand to push his lips into yours, all in one fell swoop. The intensity with which you kiss him and the way you have him pressed against the wall brings him back to that night. He kisses back just as passionately, all slippery saliva and clashing teeth. He’s sweating already, hot with the thrill of what else you’re willing to do, how far you’re willing to go in a public place like this. Would you touch him? make him come in his pants? Leave him hard?

A hand clutching onto your shirt brings you back to your senses. You pull away and Eren tries to chase your lips, but you catch his jaw before he can. He’s still panting from the residual excitement of earlier. His eyes stare at you, puppy-like in the way they speak a silent plea and twinkle with the reflection of the library ceiling lights behind you. You just smile and pet his spit-slick lips with a thumb, the gentle touch distracting him long enough for you to grab the book he’s still holding and step back. “Thanks,” you say, gesturing to the book before walking away.

Just seconds ago, Eren’s mind was racing with thoughts, but as he stares at your retreating back, his only thought is that you really are cruel — and yet it is that thought, and that moment, that replay in his head that very night as he’s roughly pumping his cock and coming in his underwear, if only to pretend you forced him to, just like back then. He’s pathetic, he knows that, but at the same time, it’s all he can do. He just feels so... he doesn’t even know what to call it, but it has him drooling after everything you do. He’s never felt this way about anyone. He’s only ever slept around with people, too afraid of committment for even friends with benefits or a situationship. He’s not even all that great with friendships, with only two friends he’s been lucky enough to have by his side since childhood, and a few guys he talks to and has lunch with at uni, but never actually hangs out with outside of class. But you? You have something that makes him want to stay, to keep going after you; you’re the reason he hasn’t slept with anyone since the party. He’s tried to, but it’s just not the same. He feels like you’ve ruined him for everyone else. That’s why he has no other choice but to fuck his fist after every meet-up with you, imagining it as your fist while the words you left him with loop in his head.

It isn’t until over halfway through the project that Eren’s pining finally reaches its peak with a single message:

let’s work at my place today, usual time

The way it’s not a question does something to him, which is when he realises how pent-up he is. He knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up, but by the time he reaches your dorm, he’s already half-hard. He wipes his sweaty hands off on his tee and adjusts himself in his sweatpants before knocking on your door. When you open it, you’re in nothing but a t-shirt and shorts, legs bare and feet clad in slippers.

“You’re early,” you say as Eren strolls inside.

He scoffs. “Not on purpose,” he says, hoping you don’t see through his façade (you do). He slides his hands into his pockets and takes a look around your room. Various shelves and decoration on your walls, reflecting your interests; memorabilia and clutter on different surfaces and furniture. Some clothes thrown over your desk chair, a few plants and books. There’s a scent in the air too, not too strong but prominent and uniquely you.

“When you’re done snooping around my room like a creep,” you call out from your bed, “we should get on with the assignment.” Your fingers clack away on your laptop keyboard for a bit before looking at Eren. “I know the deadline’s next Friday but I’d rather get it done as soon as, y’know?”

Eren’s stomach drops. He completely forgot the real reason he was invited here; the innocent reason he was invited here. Your tone was casual, gave no indication that you knew, yet as he stands there in front of you, he feels like you’re in his head. Do you know the effect you had on him at the party? The effect you continue to have on him? Shit, Eren thinks, as he clenches and unclenches his fists. He wants to respond, play it off cool and act like he only agreed to come so enthusiastically because he cares about his grades, but his mind is blank.

“Cat got your tongue?” you tease, shifting into a position that has you face-on to Eren. Then you slide to the edge of the bed and lean forward. “Why so quiet, Jaeger? That’s not like you, your loud mouth usually always has something to say.” Those scrutinising eyes scan him from head to toe. Slowly. “And where are all the materials anyway? The ones you were meant to bring? For the assignment?”

He feels caught, trapped like prey, and with every few-second flick of your eyes, every purposely chosen word and perfectly timed pause, he feels himself get smaller and smaller.

“Don’t tell me,” you start, but with those three words alone, Eren already knows his fate has been sealed, “you thought we wouldn’t actually be doing the assignment?” You’re smiling now, the same smile you had in that bathroom three weeks ago as you palmed him through his cum-soaked pants. “What did you think we were going to do, huh? Please, tell me...” Your eyes narrow into slits and your lips stretch out in a smile, showing off teeth that flash like a predator’s. “I am so curious.”

You’re pushing his buttons, making him feel like the desperate one, and maybe he is, but could you blame him? Eren just wants another taste of what you gave him at the party, and most of all, he wants you. He realises that maybe you really did just send that text with the intention of working on the assignment, but there’s no denying that in this moment, that’s not what this is; in this moment, you’re nudging him forward after toying with his sexual frustration, and in this moment, Eren decides to put a stop to it.

He stomps forward until he’s looming over you, a sharp scowl twisting his features. “Stop playing dumb, [Name]. You know damn well what you were doing when you sent me that text,” he snarls, sea green eyes stormy and narrowed. “I’m done with these games, alright? If you’re not going to take responsibility for making me like this, then– then I will.” He almost falters from the weight of your eyes, the way they just sit there, waiting and unfazed, but he steels his composure. “You’re just a brat anyway,” he says, leaning in. “All you really want is for someone to put you back in your place.”

That smile hasn’t left; hasn’t so much as twitched. In the position you’re in, you’re looking up at him, but the way you’re doing it makes it feel as though Eren is the one looking up, the one being looked down on. “Well... you’re right about me knowing what i was doing,” you admit, “but the rest? Not so much. Not for me, anyway.” You trace the collar of Eren’s t-shirt with your fingertips, drag your palm down his chest...

You suddenly bunch up the fabric and yank it with a tight fist. Your other hand catches Eren’s shoulder and keeps him steady as his palms land on either side of you, knees bent and head in the crook of your neck. “Come now, Jaeger. Do you really think I’m the brat in this situation?” You say softly, your breath warm and your lips featherlight as they graze his ear lobe. “Put me back in my place?” you giggle quietly and it reverberates through eren’s skull like a thunder clap. “Does that really sound like something you want to do to me?” He can feel the way you smile against the shell of his ear, the wetness of your teeth. “Or is that just the only way you know how to ask for something to be done to you?”

Eren is hidden in your neck yet he feels completely exposed. He wants to mask the way your words make his breathing stutter, but when you’re this close, even he knows it’s no use. All he can do is stay right where he is, frozen in a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation.

You shove Eren back and he crumbles to the floor on all fours. “That’s more like it.” You tilt your head at him as he sits up on his knees. “Doesn’t this feel so much better?”

Eren doesn’t want to admit it, not even to himself, but it does feel better. His gaze drops to his lap in shame but that’s where he sees the even more shameful bulge that’s formed between his legs. he instinctually covers it up, but he’s too late, and his attempt at hiding it only confirms what you already know. You reach over and angle his head up by his chin. You have an unimpressed expression on your face, but your eyes contrast it with their fiery intrigue. “Wow, Eren,” you say through an amused sigh as you lean in close to his face. “Are you seriously hard right now?”

He swallows nervously and presses his thighs together. His breathing is already faltering in his chest, but he tries to keep it steady as he replies, “You can’t blame me. You’ve been teasing me ever since you left me at the party. Just like this.”

A hand yanks his head back by his hair and Eren is unable to stop the moan that escapes him. He chews on his lip as you sneer down at him. “Being left like that was exactly what you deserved,” you mutter, then you raise your eyebrows, feigning a contemplative expression, “but maybe another, harsher punishment is what you need to learn your lesson, hm?”

Eren’s dick twitches and he would’ve nodded too, if he didn’t register at the last minute that punishments aren’t meant to be enjoyed.

You catch it anyway, and scoff. “Of course, you’d like that, you fucking whore.” You let go of his hair and lean back. eren stares at you, confused, until you pat your lap. “Sit,” you tell him. Your posture is relaxed, in contrast to his, which tenses as he straddles your lap, resting his hands on your shoulders. Your eyes widen and you smile incredulously. “I guess leaving you like that wasn’t entirely useless, huh?” you laugh to yourself and massage along his hips and thighs before finally tugging the waistband of his sweatpants down, slowly, along with his underwear. A shudder runs down Eren’s spine at the touch of cool air on his skin. His hard cock bumps against his abdomen, leaving behind a shiny smudge of precum. You tap his wet tip and draw circles around it, making Eren hiss and briefly dig his nails into your shoulders.

“Don’t–” he stops himself when you glance up at him.

Your eyebrows raise. “What was that?” you ask, but he just swallows and remains silent. “Use your manners, baby. You’ve done it once before, so I know you can.” Your other hand snakes under his t-shirt and caresses his side. “Don’t get shy now. If you’re cute enough, I might give you a reward.”

Eren shifts in your lap. There’s a pause. then, “Please.”

You chuckle. “Come on, ‘Ren,” you say, “you can do better than that.”

He looks exasperated, but tries again anyway. “Please,” he repeats. “Please just– just touch me. Please.”

He makes it too easy to tease him, you think, as you grin wickedly. “But I’m touching you right now, aren’t I?”

Eren groans. “Yes but– you’re not–” He jumps as you dip your nail gently into his slit. “Fuck, just put your hand around my cock please.”

You surprise him by doing exactly that, a loud moan being torn out of him. Your grip is tight as you drag your fingers down his length, spreading his precum. With how pent up he’s been, Eren feels like he’s close already. His body tingles with pleasure and anticipation. It’s almost too much, yet not enough, the way you slide your hand up then down, up then down, steady and unrushed. Just as Eren is about to ask you to go faster, you rotate your hand over his leaking tip and he chokes on his words. You do it again, and again, before returning to your previous motions. You repeat this, changing your pace a few times, just to watch him squirm, before resuming your steady pumping. Eren begins to wonder if you’re waiting for him to beg more, if you’ll just keep doing this until he asks you to go faster, but the next time you change your pace, it’s fast and doesn’t stop, just goes even faster. Eren stumbles over his breaths. He’s relieved, but at the same time it’s too fast. “Fuck, slo– slow down,” he says in a strangled voice. He is hurtling toward his orgasm, he’s definitely not going to last. Shit, how were you able to go so fast and hard at the same time? It felt like he was on fire. He’s so–

You stop.

A single meek drop of precum trickles down Eren’s dick.

“No–” He groans. “What the fuck? Why did– why didn’t you–”

“Did you forget already?” you interrupt, grinning from ear to ear. Eren’s lips remain pursed in frustration. “This is your punishment, remember?”

A range of emotions pass over Eren’s face: realisation, horror, anger, desperation, self-pity. You watch his inner conflict set aflame, how he looks down at his aching dick, how his fingers twitch and one hand even goes as far as to dip down to try and touch himself, but you grab it and place it back around your neck. “Only I get to touch you, and only I will decide when you get to cum,” you tell him and Eren curses under his breath but stays put. From there, you go back to touching him. You bring him to the edge, over and over, abusing your knowledge of all his weak spots, squeezing and rubbing and pumping vigourously for what must be at least eight times; until his speech is slurred and his pleas are barely intelligible.

When you let go for the final time, you hear him sniffle against your neck.

“That bad, huh?” you mumble, mostly to yourself. You slip your hands beneath his shirt and trace the smooth plains of his torso, up and down, feeling the muscles ripple and writhe from the barely-there touch. “Okay,” you say, “you’ve been good, so I’ll reward you now.” His hips jut out violently and grind against your stomach. You grab his drenched cock and suck your teeth in disapproval. “Don’t ruin it by getting too greedy now, Eren.”

He stares at you, turquoise irises engulfed in black pupils, and licks his lips. “What’s my reward?”

You just smile. “You’ll find out soon enough,” you answer. You pull up his waistband and snap it against his sensitive cock, making him yelp. “First, I want you to get up and take off your clothes.”

Eren is eager and obeys quickly, making a show of it as he does; flexing his muscles a little more than necessary, his movements slow and sensual and tempting because that’s just how he’s done this every time before this. But the sooner that usual ego of his rises, the sooner it falls, because once he’s down to his last item of clothing — his boxers — he just stands there like he doesn’t know what to do next. He does, of course, but he’s feeling what seems like dread at the idea of being completely naked in front of you. Not because he’s insecure, but the fact that it’s you he’s showing it to; you with your fox grins and cruel, humiliating words, your rough treatment and watchful eyes... Fuck, just the thought is making him harder, and then even harder as he wonders if you can see it. Will you point it out? Will you make fun of him? Call him names?

Eren jumps when you graze his crotch with the end of your foot. “Having second thoughts?” you say, teasing but serious all the same.

“No,” he says without hesitating.

“Then go on.” You lift your foot and Eren tenses in anticipation, but you just grin wider and point to the head of his dick, peering out slightly from his boxers, without touching it. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

He slides the waistband down his thighs and lets it drop to his feet, then steps out and tosses the garment aside. You’re still fully clothed and relaxed while you look him up and down. Eren slides a hand over the top of his hair, pushing away the fallen strands. He thought he felt exposed earlier, but now it’s even worse. Your eyes are practically devouring him, but you can’t help it. The way he’s standing there, completely nude while you aren’t, waiting for your next command while staring at you with those dark aqua eyes from under pretty dark eyelashes. No number of late-night fantasising would do this sight justice, yet you wonder if you can make it even better. You wonder if you can push him just a little bit further, see how much more you can bend him before he breaks.

“You look nervous, Eren,” you say. “Are you sure you–”

“Yes! Yes, I’m sure,” he all but gasps out.

You arch an eyebrow at his interruption. “I was going to say are you sure you want this? Are you sure you want me?” you clarify. “For all I know, you’re just a slut who’ll pounce on anyone. How do I know I’m not just a set of holes to you, hm?”

Eren frowns. “No, that’s not–” He steps closer to you and sinks to his knees in front of you. “I only want you, [Name]. No one...” His cheeks flush hot and he looks away from your eyes. “No one else could fuck me as good as you.”

It’s not the entire truth and you know that. You’ve always been good at reading people. Though Eren may be better than the average person at lying, around you? All of that depletes and he becomes an open book. “And how would you know that?” you say as you lean back on your palms.

“I don’t,” Eren says as he places his hands on your knees, “but maybe you can show me?”

It’s pathetic yet so beautiful to see a man like Eren Jaeger like this: on his knees and at your disposal. I5’s almost a shame you couldn’t get here sooner, but you’ve always believed in delayed gratification, in trusting the process and the like; that’s why you adore men like him, who’ve only ever been doms and have never even considered anything else. It’s so much fun to string them along, allow them to unknowingly fall into a false sense of security, to make them think you’re just another obedient little sub, and how once you’ve built that up enough, breaking them is all the sweeter.

The shift of you leaning forward makes Eren sit up. He’s not sure what he’s expecting, but you gently petting his hair definitely isn’t it. He melts, dropping his head and resting his cheek against your knee, just like you thought he would. After all, you noticed that pushing back loose hair is a nervous tic of his, and so naturally this kind of touch comforts him. You smile fondly at that.

The tender moment is broken by Eren humping your leg. You’re not sure if he even realises he’s doing it. His eyes are shut and he’s whimpering like a dog. The grasp he has around your knees tightens. “Eren,” you say to him and he seems to regain some awareness, stopping his movement and looking up at you. “Would you like your reward?”

He breathes out like he’s been holding it. “Please.”

You pat the space behind you. “Come lay down.”

He does so and you wait for him to get comfortable before perching yourself on his lap. You begin by sliding your hands up his torso and back down again, tracing the dips and curves of his body. You litter kisses from his neck to his collarbone and chest. Your breath ghosts over a nipple and Eren shivers. You take a second to smile before flicking your tongue over the dark pink bud. His chest raises off the bed and into your mouth as you latch onto the nub and swirl your tongue around it. Your hand makes work of his other nipple and Eren’s hips buck into you. A string of spit forms and snaps as you pull away and resume your path down his torso, pecking down his belly, hip and finally, his inner thigh. You feel Eren squirm as your cool breaths hit his drooling cock. You flatten your tongue and lick up from the base, kissing the tip wetly before taking it into your mouth and sucking hard. Eren throws his head back and moans, fallen strands fanning out against the pillows. His hips are restless, so you hold them down while you slide down to the base, then back up to suck on the tip again. Your motions are smooth, aided by saliva and precum, as you begin to bob your head up and down his length.

Eren’s fingers find your hair and cling there. You break away to mutter a cautionary, “Easy,” then swallow down his cock again, moving quicker now. With how you’ve been teasing and edging him, you suspect that he’ll come soon. His sounds get higher and louder, more frequent, and every so often the hands on your head flinch or scratch or curl.

“I’m close, I’m close,” Eren warns through laboured breaths. His skin is damp with sweat, long strands sticking to his forehead in curled shapes. “Please le– let me come.”

You answer him by not stopping, by using your hand to pump the bottom half of his cock while continuing to suck on the rest with hollowed cheeks and wet lips.

“Fuck, m’gonna c– ah! Fuck, please let– please!” His back arches, sheets peeling off his skin before he collapses again, abdomen contracting. “Please say I can–” His nails dig into your scalp as he moans, drawn out and loud. Hot fluid fills up your mouth and throat. You swallow and don’t cease moving until eren is pawing at your face and mumbling about how it’s too much. Afterwards, unable to hold back your teasing nature, you give a few kitten licks to his reddened tip, enjoying how it makes him whine and jolt.

“I take it you liked your reward then?” you say, pushing away the stringy hair around his cheeks and forehead.

“Yeah,” Eren pants, and as he’s lying there, all blissed out and in the process of winding down from his high, you’re gazing down at him in a way he’s only been able to dream of until now and he realises that sure, blowjobs aren’t anything special or revolutionary, but everything leading up to it is what made it so amazing, you are what made it so amazing. You’re everything he didn’t know he wanted, the key that unlocked his hidden desires, and even if you were to leave him hard and aching for your touch again, even if you teased him to no end and laughed at him and called him names, he’d still come back if you gave him the chance because he loves it. He loves you.

You lean in and kiss Eren; delicately, kindly, with care and a gentle want, a peaceful want reserved for lovers, because somewhere along the way you started to develop feelings for him. Eren had only hoped for such a thing, thought that it was wishful thinking and delusion that gave him the impression you might feel the same way. Maybe you didn’t at the beginning; maybe it started out as just lust, but right now you love him and he loves you. The lust is still there, but it’s soft now, and so much more than it was.

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verstapt · 2 months ago

Text

It's all fake, right? Prologue (LN4)

Pairing: Lando Norris x female Dutch reader

Series summary: The McLaren team thinks Lando's playboy reputation is damaging their image. They want him to settle down, or at least pretend to settle down for a while. Meanwhile writer Y/N is becoming quite successful, so successful that Hollywood is showing interest. But to keep their interest she has to gain a more glamorous reputation, which makes her the perfect match for Lando.

A/N: So this is just a little starter and I haven't really proofread it, because I fear that will make me too self conscious to post it. Please keep in mind that English is not my first language.

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Y/N takes a deep breath before she steps into the paddock on Saturday. It’s not her first time at a Grand Prix, but it will be the first time she spends it at the McLaren garage and she’s pretty sure her face will end up on the live broadcast at some point this weekend. She sends a longing look at the Red Bull garage as she passes it, wishing she could hide away in the more familiar environment. She would definitely prefer listening to Max yap about something technical for an hour or so over the curious looks and whispered gossip that no doubt awaits her at McLaren. Sadly that’s not an option and she’ll have to suck it up and be the picture perfect girlfriend she’s contractually obliged to be.

As she approaches McLaren she spots the enormous picture of her fake boyfriend plastered on the outside. She bites the inside of her cheek as her stomach turns nervously. It’s not that she’s not excited to watch qualifying today and the race tomorrow. She’s actually a big fan of formula one and has been to several races over the years, but always with Max and always in the background. Now she has to stand front and center in the garage of a driver she barely knows. It’s not that she dislikes Lando, but she has only spoken to him a few times. Always with a lot of other people around and almost always with Max or Martin there, and now she has to pretend to be in love with him.

Inside the garage Lando is trying to pass the time between FP3 and qualifying. His eyes move around the space as he wonders when his fake girlfriend will show up. This whole arrangement wasn’t his idea and from what he has seen it wasn’t Y/N idea either. They’ve seen each other a few times over the summer break in order to get the rumours going, but the only time the whole fake relationship thing was openly talked about was during a meeting a few months ago. Lando had been very annoyed at his team for basically forcing him into this. Y/N didn’t look annoyed, but she did seem pretty uncomfortable with the whole situation.

He had never paid much attention to her before that meeting. She had always just been one of Martin’s friends. He didn’t like her, but he didn’t dislike her either. She had simply never caught his attention and they never exchanged more that a few brief words with each other. Since he couldn’t stop the arrangement from happening and he didn’t really care about the technicalities of the contract, he spent most of the meeting looking at Y/N. He came to the conclusion that she was pretty, but not his usual type. She seemed a little too shy for his taste, but at least he wasn’t being forced to fake date someone unattractive.

Lando is pulled from his thoughts when he sees Y/N walk into the garage. He watches her look around for a moment before he takes a deep breath and pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on. Showtime, he thinks as he plasters a smile on his face.

“There you are.” He says as he approaches her, a smile on his face as his arm wraps around her shoulders to pull he into his side. A few of the mechanics and other guests glance at them. “I was afraid you were gonna bail on me.” He jokes.

Y/N leans into him and wraps her arm around his waist to return his side hug. “And miss out on watching you get pole?” She says as she releases him and Lando lifts his arm off her shoulder as he remembers what they told him: not too much too soon, then the public won’t believe it. “No way. I’m here for the fastest lap today and victory tomorrow.” Y/N adds with a smile. She’s not lying, she’s pretty sure McLaren have the upper hand this weekend.

“With you here as my good luck charm, that’ll be a piece of cake.” Lando flirts, very aware of the eyes and ears around them. Part of him hopes they tell everyone how smooth he’s being, maybe it’ll finally get rid of the Lando Norizz allegations. Y/N lets out a slight giggle that she really hopes is convincing and she’s relieved when someone calls Lando to get ready for qualifying. “I gotta go.” He says as he gives her a half smile. “Wish me luck.”

Y/N shakes her head. “You don’t need luck.” She looks at him for a moment before deciding to just go for it and stepping closer to kiss his cheek. “You’ve got this.” She says with a smile as she pulls away. If her move surprised Lando he doesn’t let it show. He simple lifts his hand to give her arm a squeeze and then he walks away.

As she watches him walk away she lets out a discrete sigh before looking around to see where they want her to watch qualifying. Someone comes over to show her where to stand and Y/N thanks them with a smile before she leans against the wall behind her as she pulls out her phone to pass the time. When she unlocks her phone she’s confronted with a text from her agent:

Remember: no hiding away this weekend.

I want to see at least one headline about you and Lando before the day is over.

Y/N sighs and closes her eyes for a moment after reading the words. She’s not cut out for all the attention that will come from this arrangement, and she’s also not convinced that anyone will believe Lando is into her. She doesn’t exactly look like the girls he’s usually spotted with. It’ll be hard to believe that he left behind the southern European model types for a boring Dutch writer. Y/N’s own fanbase probably won’t be very convinced either. She has been in one public relationship before this and that was with another writer. The only time she steps out of her safe cultural bubble is when she visits Max in the paddock or Martin at a gig. How is she supposed to make anyone believe that she’s fallen for someone with a completely opposite lifestyle?

#formula 1 fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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fallingdownhell · 9 months ago

Note

Hello !! I wish u a happy Valentine's Day >< love it writing ;)

Can I request Best Friends with feelings Sumero boys(+wanderer) reacting to gn!reader being gifted here and there all day bc it's Valentine's day?

Thank u! U can ignore this if I don't want to write :)

Happy belated Valentine's Day! Hope everyone had a nice day celebrating with their loved ones, be it romantically or platonically<3 Characters Included: Tighnari; Cyno; Alhaitham; Kaveh; Wanderer Content: gender neutral reader; no established relationship; the boys are getting jealous; fluff; love confessions..?; not proofread yet Word count: 2,6k words Enjoy<3

Tighnari

he loves the fact that one of his closest friends actually works with him, which means that you can see each other on a regular basis

not like Cyno or Kaveh, who he sometimes doesn't see in days or weeks, depending on their workload

Tighnari enjoys working with you, but not just because he's friends with you. You complement each other, his strenghts negate your weaknesses, and vice versa. When he's stuck in his research on some specific topic, you offer him some insight from a different perspective that he otherwise would probably have never even considered

Plus, you're very easy to talk to, and just an overall fun person to be around. It's no wonder he'd want to be your friends.

So it's also no wonder that one day, he realizes that his feelings for you go much deeper than just friendship

Is he gonna do anything about it, though?

No. At least, not right away

He's let it sit and sink for a while, come to terms with the fact that he actually likes you in that way, and that it's not just some fleeting crush. He'd plan to tell you eventually, but much to his dismay, he forgot what time it was while he was pondering about his feelings for you

Valentine's Day was here, and of course, he's heard plenty of talk among his fellow forest rangers. He knows that many of them plan to ask you out, thinking that it'd be the right time

He realized what day it was when the first one came up to you and handed you a self crafted bracelet that you gladly accepted. Tighnari watched the interaction take place intently, yet swallowed down his feelings

But then another one came up to you... and another.. with every person that came to you, handing you gifts and trying to flirt with you, his anger at them rose, and he couldn't take it any longer

With an annoyed tone, he pushed all his responsibilities aside for today, went over to you and grabbed your hand, almost demanding of you to accompany him to the city, since he claimed he had some important errands to run and needed your help with them. In truth, he just wanted you as far away from all of the attention from other people as quickly as possible

His lie became obvious pretty fast when he made no attempts to actually go to Sumeru City with you, but you'd already realised why he did what he did, yet decided not to comment on it

the two of you took a stroll along a close by river, and after some time, sitting down and just watching the nature around you

Not many words are spoken, but it's also not neccassary

he has a feeling that you're aware of his feelings for you now, as well. But he won't say anything to you just yet. He needs some more time, but you can be sure that you won't have to wait too long..

Cyno

I see him as one of those people who are not to keen about Valentine's day. To him, it's just a day like anyone else. He's also one of those people that would voluntarily work that day

He's never understood the appeal of it. Why celebrate one special day with your partner, when you can show your love and affection for them any given day? Why safe it for one day in the whole year?

Not that he has a partner to begin with, but it's the whole concept about it that just irks him

however, there is a certain someone that Cyno has had feelings for, for quite some time now. A certain someone that was a desert dweller just like him. Who came with him to the City at a young age and who he stayed friends with all those years

You and Cyno go way back, having been friends with him since you were kids. When he was leaving the desert, he couldn't stand the thought of leaving behind the only person he ever knew and trusted, so he convinced you to go with him. Not like anything was holding you in the desert to begin with, so you agreed

Cyno has come to terms with his feelings for you a long time ago, but has yet to make any move on you. Sure, he's dropped some hints here and there, and made some - very poor - attempts at flirting with you, but you never picked up on any of it

and now, he kinda regretted never telling you more specifically. As every other Valentine's day before, Cyno was working this one, too

he was currently on his way to track some hints he'd gotten, leaving the Academiya, when he catched a glimpse of you, standing on the platform before the Academiya building, surrounded by people

he froze in his steps, deciding to stick around and see what was going on. And it didn't take long until he figured it out..

from the people surrounding you, many were offering you gifts, holding them in front of you and begging you to accept them, while you smile shyly and try to appease as many of them as possible

quickly, jealousy was rising within him, but also his protective side started to show. He knew you disliked crowds, never having the courage to deny people of anything, so he knew you had a hard time right now

without another thought, he rushed to your side, putting an arm around you protectively, while he scared away the crowd under some made up excuse

as soon as they were gone and you had your space again, you let out a relieved breath, thanking him for getting you out of this

Cyno stares at you for a second before looking away again, then claiming that he'd walk with you until you were home safe. Just to make sure that no one else would bother you

on the way there, he's thinking hard. This incident showed him, that he'd have to step up and confess his feelings to you, soon. Or someone else might get ahead of him and snatch you away. And he couldn't let that happen..

Alhaitham

another one who I think wouldn't be too big on Valentine's day, but he'd be much more indifferent about it

much like Cyno, he sees no sense in picking out one "special" day in the year to celebrate love when you can just do it whenenver

however, he does begin to see at least some appeal to the thing when he develops feelings for you, one of his best friends

he loves that he can just spend time with you in silence. That you don't always have the need to converse with him, and instead just enjoy the presence of each other while each of you might be doing their own thing still

however, it still takes Alhaitham some time to accept that he's having these types of feelings for you, so you can't expect a confession from him anytime soon, either

he tries to approach his feelings with logic first, but he comes to realize that logic does not help him in the slightest with this particular "problem"

so instead, he decideds to throw logic out the window for this one and instead settles on the plan to use the upcoming valentine's day this year to actually confess how he feels to you

after talking to a bunch of people about different ideas for gifts, he decides to go with what seems to be the "standard", some flowers and chocolates

he plans on gifting them to you after your shift for the day is done and you're heading home, since he comes by and walks you home from time to time, so it wouldn't be weird for Alhaitham to show up

however, as he arrives, he becomes witness to a scene, similar to what he had planned to do. A man in front of you, asking you to accept his flowers as he asks you out on a date

Alhaitham's heart immediately drops, and he finds himself frozen in place, unable to do anything about it. The only thing he can do, is watch as you laugh awkwardly at the guy and then kindly decline him

seeing you reject him gives him some hope again, and he watches the guy leave first before he approaches you, his gifts for you hidden under his cloak. Even if you rejected him, he was now hesitating wether it was a good idea to actually follow through with his plan

the same exact thing then happened four more times while he was walking you home. Some random person would approach you on the street and hand you some form of a Valentine's present. And every time, you'd kindly turn them down with an uncomfortable smile

seeing the interactions both gave him relief - as you were always rejecting them - but also made him feel more anxious

in the end, when the two of you arrived at your home, he had half a mind to just not say anything at all and just let it go. But then, another thought entered his head that he couldn't ignore away. What if, if he was to forego his chance now, someone else would show up who you'd ultimately agree to go out with?

he couldn't let this happen, not without shooting his own shot, at least

so, before you close the door on him, he stops you, and very awkwardly pulls the flower and chocolates out from under his cloak, handing them to you

he sees the surprise morph into your expression, as he's anxiously waiting for your answer...

Kaveh

I personally think that Kaveh would be very obvious if he has a crush on someone. Wether that be a close friend or someone he doesn't personally know, he's easy to figure out

he wears his heart on the tongue and is very expressive, so one simple question is often enough to figure out what he thinks about certain people

so, it was obvious to you, and everyone around him, that Kaveh has been having feelings for his best friend, You

has he done anything about that or plans on doing anything?

No.

as much as he's aware of his feelings, he also has no idea how to go about it. How would he ask you out in the first place? And why, for all Archon's sake, would you even say yes to him in the first place?

He has to come to terms with that question and many similar ones first, before he feels like he's ready to ask you out

unluckily for him, you're quite an impatient person, and waiting around for him to do something, when you've already dropped so many hints that you liked him, too, was just too damn exhausting

however, luckily for you, Valentine's day was just around the corner, and maybe, you could use that to your advantage..

that day, you'd ask Kaveh to accompany you on a stroll through the city, to get him out of his little office that he's been cramped up in recently to finish a project of his

he gladly took the offer, figuring that he could really use the fresh air. He always loved to spend time with you, talking and laughing with you about anything and everything that came to your minds

however, he noticed that on this particular day, people seemed to approach you every so often, with roses in their hands, engaging in conversations with you that Kaveh stepped away from, not wanting to eavesdrop on private matters

still, he inwardly scoffs to himself. What are these people even trying to achieve? Don't they know that roses aren't even your favourite flowers?

But the more he looks around the city, he slowly comes to realize what kind of day it is today

Now the roses also made sense... and now he could also figure why they were all approaching you, probably to ask you out

And, why wouldn't they? You were a catch, no matter which angle one were to look from. Anyone would be lucky to be able to call you their partner, but.. Kaveh wanted it to be himself, not some random person who doesn't even know you as much as he does

the more people talk to you, the more jealous Kaveh grows as the day goes on, yet he never says anything about it or to you. He just intently watches everyone that dares come closer to you, narrowing his eyes on them, like they just personally offeneded him

once the day is over, Kaveh then locks himself into his office, trying to come up with the most elaborate plan to ask you out. He wanted it to be something grande, something that would be better than anything anyone had ever done for you, that would outdo all the gifts and presents you'd gotten today... and once the plan is set, he'll be making it happen as soon as possible..

Wanderer

not fond about this holiday. At all

he hates how stuck up people can get with their feelings. Why did they have to make a celebration out of it and shove it down everyone's throat?

scoffs loudly whenever he sees a couple act all cutesy and stuff on Valentine's day. It doesn't really bother him all that much on any other day, but that specific day? He hates it

he also hates you. You may be his best - and only - friend, but he hates the way you make him feel sometimes

he tries to deny it for a very long time, chalking it up to some malefunction of his body, but there comes a point in his life where he can no longer deny the feelings he has for you

much to his dismay, the day he'd make that realization just had to be Valentine's day... the fucking irony. Celestia really must hate him

He didn't think anything of it when he invited you to join him for some leisure stroll outside Sumeru City that day. He's waiting for you before Lambad's tavern, impatiently tapping his fingers against his crossed arms

finally, he notices you, but just as he was about to call out to you, he notices someone else approach you and engaging in a conversation with you

the Wanderer had half a mind to walk over there and pull you away, because how dare you make him wait even longer? But then, that person hands you a flower, gifting it to you, and he froze seeing you accept it

soon enough, you'd part ways with that person and finally join the Wanderer, but by that time, his mood has already turned sour

he still goes on that stroll with you, but the entire time, he basically ignores you as he tries to figure out why he feels so frustrated by this interaction. Why would you accept flowers from a lowlife like that? Wasn't he enough for you?

As soon as that thought entered his mind, his eyes widened and he knew he was screwed, that he'd somehow caught feelings for you. But realizing it, and admiting to it, are two completely different things

when you two return to Sumeru City, he witnesses two other people approach and do the same thing, gifting you a flower each that you accept with a kind smile

and with every interaction he sees, his anger and resentment towards them grows and grows

he can't deal with it any longer, so he leaves the scene without any further explanation

he'd have a lot of thinking to do, as well as coming to terms with some things. You wouldn't see him for a while, even if you were to seek him out. He just needed to do this on his own, because the next time he sees you, he plans on making you his, no matter what it would take..

545 notes · View notes

freakoont · 5 months ago

Note

Hi!!!! Pretty pretty please, could you write a ranpo x reader where reader usually takes care of him because they have a soft spot for him, but ranpo takes them for granted somehow, and they get frustruated and angry. Maybe a little angsty and fluff as well. Im so happy to discover your blog, i really like the way you write for bsd! Sorry for my english, i’m not a native

❝𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭, 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲!?❞

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐠𝐬

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐄𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.. 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐥𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 ... 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 // 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

【ＳＦＷ】

GENDER NEUTRAL BUT AFAB READER sorry :')

REQUESTS ARE OPEN ! Check my request page for info !

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

It's easy to say that Ranpo doesn't exactly have manners, and is easily persuaded by his own thoughts and often doesn't think before he speaks when he isn't on the job.

Often, he'll make people feel very dumb. That doesn't change for people he's close with, cough. You.

It's been a good few months since you had joined the Agency, being assigned as Ranpo's lucky assistant. Actually, no, now that you remember it more clearly, you were never assigned this role... It just so happened that during you're early days when you were still a lost noobie, Ranpo.. 'found' you, but not exactly in a positive or negative way.

When it was only you and Ranpo in the building, when everyone had gone to do their own thing, he was whining about being so hungry he'd die! Talk about childish.. and yet, after a while it grew on you.

You offered to go to the nearest convenient store and see if you could find anything, which you did, and after that Ranpo would use your more and more often to retrieve stuff for him, that the title 'Ranpo's lucky assistant' grew on you.

Ranpo didn't seem to care, actually, eventually he'd start to have you help him with cases... And by 'help' it just means you'd buy his train tickets. Basically you were treated like a guinea pig in some ways, even having to give the man piggy back rides when he felt tired.

╰┈➤ ❝Would you call this luck?❞

Actually, it isn't all that bad. Ranpo would always look so happy whenever you walked in the room. Word has it, whenever you weren't around, his head would perk up like a dog on alert at the sound of your name being spoken and he'd always feel so gloomy saying, 'man, I wish (Y/N) was here.' Although, that's probably just Yosano trying to mess with you.

Not to mention he'd always love to eat with you, seeming so glad as he'd get into your space and ask that you 'so kindly feed him like a good assistant' ignoring all the stacks of papers you have to finish.

Some part of you wants to say that he just has a sweet yet naive heart when he's not actually using his brain... And yet...

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

"pfft, don't be stupid. I don't need your little gift," he spoke while pushing your hand away.

For the past few days, you had found yourself growing a different perspective around him.. did you truly like this guy?

Earlier that day, as had been you passing through many stores, there was something in particular that caught your attention. You were a firm believer in luck and gratitude, always wanted it for yourself and others. When you saw basically some five dollar bracelets, there was one in particular that caught your attention.

A small bracelet, a very colorful one, that had little snack charms. It was pretty. It reminded you a lot of Ranpo.

"you don't need to wear it, I was just hoping-"

"you were hoping to give me a little good luck charm." He'd speak up over you with a tone voice that didn't seem completely annoyed but more like he was mocking you. He'd continue to place another chip into his mouth before continuing, "I don't need it. I'm the world's greatest detective after all."

"..i see." You spoke with a feeling of disappointment. "I'll just throw it away then."

Ranpo didn't seem to bat an eye about it as soon as you had left his line of sight that following day.

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

A few days followed and you didn't exactly forget that little item, actually it's disappointing you chose to throw away such a pretty gadget. Slowly the sun hit the inside of your room and you felt this pinging in your head. A strong annoyance, a headache.

Some part of you felt like this headache had to do with how you've been seeing Ranpo lately. One question that's been stuck in your mind, do you seriously regret meeting him? No, that'd be too much to say... But he can be annoying to deal with.

There were even moments where you'd have to step in because he pissed off the wrong person, stopping people from getting their fist in his face... It was always you taking a few verbal hits for him, huh? And he never seemed to mind, always doing it again and again no matter how much you've told him it's wrong.

Maybe you're wrong about your friendship with him.

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

"yo, I'm here." You spoke up while entering the Agency, that strong pinging in your head again. You looked around only to see Ranpo. "Where is everybody?"

"Dazai is skipping, Yosano is in her infirmary, and the rest of them are all on their own errands and cases." Ranpo spoke as he played on his little game console. He perked up at you with a smug grin, "Soo, let me guess. Today's snacks are.."

"actually I don't have anything."

"HUH? WHY?" He immediately jumped in his seat staring at you almost distressed. "I'll die without food y'know!"

"..if you're so hungry then go get yourself something."

"Nonsense!" He laughed out, mocking you in a way. "Last I recall your my lucky assistant, and you promised to get me food every morning."

"I didn't promise you anything, Edogawa."

Ranpo had noticed a sharp tone in your voice, you seemed oddly annoyed, which was different. He then grinned towards you, "Oh I see! Is this about your little gift to-"

".. you're such a pain, Edogawa!" You spoke up which made the man flinch. You definitely noticed that, you've caught him off guard. "Not once have you ever gratitude for what I've done? I know it's not much and maybe I'm being dramatic.. but it'd be nice to get a thank you every and now then? All it feels like is that you look down on me."

"..I'm sorry."

That's all he said which didn't make you an happier. Thats all he can say? Is he serious?

"I'm leaving. I have a bad headache and I don't want to deal with this, let Kunikida know I'm off." You turned on your heels to leave.

"Wait hold up-!" Ranpo immediately followed and grabbed your shoulder. "I said I was sorry!" After he didn't heard you respond and just ignore him, yet waited in your steps to hear if he had anything else to say, he pulled out the bracelet from his pocket. "..the reason I said I didn't need your good luck charm, was because my lucky assistant is what brings me luck."

"..."

"..and thanks."

#bsd x reader #anime and manga #x reader #anime #bsd #bungo stray dogs #ranpo edogawa x reader #bsd ranpo #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs ranpo #ranpo x reader #bsd yosano #ranpo #ranpo x yn #ranpo edogawa #bsd edogawa rampo #bsd x you #bsd x y/n

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sweetsbfreex · 1 year ago

Text

who loves you

summary: a four month long situationship with Ari goes south when you see a text you shouldn't have

pairing: college!hockey player!ari x situationship/fwb!reader

warnings: none?

Fuck. You felt refreshed and blissed out as you sat up and stretched. Watching Ari’s bare, fit body disappear into his bathroom.

It always surprised you how he showers without his phone because that meant he showered with no music. You couldn’t imagine taking a shower without music, how else would you fulfill your popstar dreams. But alas, Ari was different from a lot of the guys you’ve previously been with.

You drop back against his bed, smiling at the ache between your legs. Ari was a lot of things and a sex god was definitely one of them.

The incessant buzzing from a phone..his phone jerks you from your blissed out state.

Bzz-bzz

Ignore.

Bzz-bzz

Ignore.

Bzz-bzz

Okay, what the hell?

You grab his phone beside you, it comes to life when you lift it.

Joy ;)

—Meet you in the parking lot after? My place?

—I’ll wear the special panties with your number on them

You squint as more texts roll in. Special panties? Her place? The fucking winky emoji by her name?

What. The. Fuck.

You stare in disbelief for who knows how long, feeling a little hurt and naive.

“Why is my phone in your hand?”

Ari stands at the end of his bed. A towel wrapped around his hips as he runs another through his shoulder length hair. Your eyes can’t really help to worship the droplets over his chest.

“Who’s Joy?” You push out the question.

You can see something change in Ari as he walks over and takes his phone from your grasp. “None of your business, why are you snooping around”

You scoff, “I wasn’t snooping! It kept buzzing and I thought it was an emergency or something. Who’s Joy?” you question again, annoyed at the way he’s avoiding your question.

“I don’t appreciate you looking through my phone. And she’s none of your fucking buisness, so drop it”

You stare up at him, subconsciously lifting his sheet to cover your bare chest.

“You’re having sex with other people?” you accuse, and deep down you're confident you know the answer, but that naive part of you is hoping it’s all a misunderstanding.

“And if I am? We’re just fucking around too. Are we not?”

Your breath stutters at his admission. Although the two of you have never stated terms of this…relationship, his actions have always spoken louder than words. Everyone thought the two of you were together. Even though he’s never formally asked you to be his girlfriend, you always had an inkling that he would at some point.

Your stomach flips thinking of his protectiveness over you, the way he’d always pay if he was there, and the way he goes out of his way to check up on you after his practices. Or the way you’re always there for him at every game, his number and name on your back as you cheer him on.

Shit, even the sex was anything unlike a pair of friends. It always felt intimate between the two of you. Your toothbrush stood next to his in his bathroom, and yours, for Christ sakes.

“Are you being serious right now?”

Ari shrugs. Fucking shrugs at your question.

“Y/n, I don’t understand why you’re upset. In no way have I ever committed myself to you.”

That stings.

“You really don’t see it, do you?” You mutter, trying to blink away the tears forming in your eyes.

“I don’t.”

“Fuck you, Ari.” You seethe, dressing yourself with speed. “Have fun with Joy.” You tell him, buttoning your jeans, and gathering your shoes in your hand. Anything to get out of this humiliating scenario.

You shove your way past Ari’s confused figure. Which stops you as he grabs your elbow, “I’m not understanding what the big deal is? You’re telling me you haven’t been sleeping around.”

You remove your elbow from his grasp, “No. I haven’t. And if I did, I’d at least have the decency to let you know.” And with that, you’re out of the room.

Ari stands there for at least a minute, disgruntled and confused with what the fuck just happened. He shakes his head trying to figure out whatever the fuck he was missing.

“You’re a fucking idiot, a moron if you will. Maybe a dodo would fit better?—” Ransom laughs to himself as relaxes in his spot in the frats living room, snacking on his favorite biscuit cookies.

“Ran,” Steve interrupts the way Ransom isn’t helping. Softly shaking his head in reprimandment. “Now isn’t the time.”

Ransom only shrugs, and looks back to the television.

“I hate to say it, man. But Ransom is right, the only answer was in front of you the whole time.” Sam tosses in his opinion, clapping Ari on the back.

“Well what the fuck is it? Why is no one saying what I’m missing?”

“She likes you, Levinson.” Bucky answers, walking through the living room and out the door, his key to his motorcycle swirling around a finger. He didn’t need to know the full conversation to know what exactly was going on. He would’ve stayed to watch the aftermath, but he had a certain spicy redhead waiting for him at her apartment

Ari doesn’t mean to sound dramatic, but he quite literally feels the world tilt on its axis at the discovery. He’s admired you for a while, but never in his mind did he think he was the right guy for you. He’s seen the guys you’ve dated before and they were the complete opposite.

Intelligent, brainy, in tons of clubs, they wouldn’t do stupid shit like fighting on ice skates because it’s fun. They were guys who any mother would love.

Fuck. He can’t believe this, there’s no way.

“What—“

“Dude, you can’t be so blind, to not see how in love with you she basically is,” Ransom says around a mouth full of cookies. “The sex is probably great, but you think a chick like her is gonna wanna be around you without an ounce of admiration.”

“I think what Ransom is trying to say is: there’s a lot of telling that y/n has feelings for you, and I’m pretty sure her getting offended that you’re sleeping with other people is a big one.” Steve says.

“Fuck.” Ari groans, running his hand down his face and over his scruff.

“How would you feel if y/n told you she was screwing someone else?” Sam asks.

“Livid.”

Sam snaps his finger pointing at the dark look already on Ari’s face. “There you go.”

“Fuck. She’s not even answering my calls. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Give her time to cool. If anything, maybe she’ll be at the game?” Steve offers.

“Maybe,” Ari mutters.

But you never picked up a single call and for some reason, even picked up that Ari thought of swinging by your apartment. You had texted him to leave you alone.

And then Saturday rolled around…

“How long have you been into hockey? I’d never take you up as a sports girl. Sorry that sounded terrible—“

“It’s okay, Jake.” You laugh. “Not until this year, you’re right I’m not really into sports at all. What about you?”

“I really got into it with my dad, we used to watch every game together if we could,” he smiles at the memories.

“That’s really sweet,” you smile back, placing your hand over his.

Jake Jensen is a computer science major you befriended over your French class last semester. But the both of you basically ran in the same social groups, leading to you guys staying friends.

When talking about the upcoming game, you had let it slip that you passed the deadline to donate your ticket, and couldn’t find anyone to sell it to. Leaving you to go to the game alone or getting a strike.

Jake was kind enough to let you join him. You would’ve joined Natasha and the others, but it felt too weird to you and you wanted no chance running into Ari. Especially since you weren’t wearing his jersey like you usually do.

You haven’t spoken to him all week, minus the small text you sent, and you refused to. Even though he had tried non stop to run into you on campus.

“Have you—“ Jake starts, but is interrupted by the commentators introducing the team. Everyone stood up and cheered at the sight of the school’s players.

Ari skates out with a smile on his face, lifting a hand in the air as he waves and joins the line of his teammates. As he does so, he tries to find you, but it’s hard to distinguish you among the wave of people in the stadium. Especially since you weren’t seated in your undesignated-designated seat closer to the rink.

But he shakes it off, putting himself in the right mindset for the game.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for our favorite time of the night: THE KISS CAM!”

Some players skate and others like Ari, watch the Jumbotron during the brief break.

The first is an elderly couple, then a pair of random strangers who kiss under the playful pressure, two pairs of students, parents with their children who dramatically gag. That makes everyone chuckle, including himself.

They go around the stadium one last and he cannot fucking believe it. His hand becomes around his stick.

He can feel his teammates staring at him in sympathy. But Ari cannot look away from the Jumbotron.

The first thing he notices is your flustered smile, that you came to the game sans his jersey, and the most noticeable of all is the dork sitting next to you with his arm behind your seat, looking just as bashful.

He’s livid. You’ve been avoiding him all week, probably doing who knows what with this guy.

“You know what you gotta do,” teases the commentator. You laugh behind the back of your hand. Jake sits beside you just as flustered, scratching his eyebrow with his thumb.

In no way is he against kissing Y/n, but he also doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

“C’mon folks!”

You stare at Jake, shrugging a shoulder in question. Jake only smiles back before sitting up straighter. The both of you go to lean in. Your lips press softly against his until a loud smack of temper glass breaks it up.

The two of you jolt away at the sound of a disgruntled voice. You look to see Ari, “hey!” His voice booms. “Back the fuck off my girl!”

“What— who is he?” Jake’s eyebrows knit together as he points towards the enraged giant pointing a menacing finger towards him.

“An asshole who doesn’t know what he wants.” You answer, shaking your head towards Ari before you place a kiss on Jake’s cheek.

You watch as Ari stands behind the plexiglass. And even though you’re about eight rows back, you can see the confused and upset expression on his face. A pinch in his eyebrows and a pitiful glare in his eyes.

“I’m really sorry about that, Jake.”

“It’s nothing, don't worry.” He smiles, “Do you want popcorn or anything?”

“Sour patch kids, if that’s alright.”

“No problem.”

You look at anywhere but Ari during the rest of the brief intermission.

Ari 🏒🦁

—Meet me outside the locker room

—Please?

You sigh as you grab your stuff. Just before the two of you reach outside the stadium, you gain Jake’s attention.

“I’m really sorry to cut our hangout short, but I had a lot of fun. I just have to handle something really quickly.”

Jake tries not to show the disappointment on his face, “I’m gonna rightfully assume it has something to do with that ‘asshole who doesn’t know what he wants’?”

“Unfortunately,” you smile ruefully.

“Okay,” he nods his head. “I hope everything goes well. I’ll see you around?”

“Definitely,” you hug him before you make your way outside the doors of the locker rooms, with no trouble which you can guess is because of Ari.

You smile awkwardly at the glances of Ari’s teammates. You hate that everyone has seen that happen and you assume most of his teammates know the intimate details of what’s gone down between you two. Which only adds another layer of unnecessary awkwardness. Time passes before you feel a light tap on your shoulder, looking up to see Steve at your side, a timid grin.

“The locker is all cleared out, he’s in there waiting for you.”

“Thanks, Steve.”

“Ari?” You walk in to him tying his sweatpants.

He turns around with a mournful look on his face. His sweatpants low enough that you can see the bands of his Calvin’s; he’s shirtless so his six pack is on display and glistening from his shower; his hair is disheveled, but the ends still curl at the ends; and he has a towel thrown over shoulder.

You can ask any women how they could not be hung up on a guy as attractive as him.

“Hey,” he sends a small smile, making his way towards you.

“Wait—“ you interrupt, “We cannot have this conversation if you’re shirtless.”

He won’t argue, but he does as you’ve said and throws on some ratty t shirt in his locker. He sits on the bench in front of his locker, patting the spot next to you.

You sit beside him, making sure to keep some distance between you two.

“I see you’re not wearing your jersey?”

The audacity of men will always surprise you.

“Your jersey and is that really the first thing you want to talk about?”

“You’re right…” warily his hand grabs yours and when he sees you won’t retract from him, he brings it his plush lips. “I’m really sorry, Y/n. Seriously.”

“What you said Sunday was totally uncalled for and spiteful— and where do you get off announcing to practically the whole state that I'm your girl? And You embarrassed poor Jake for nothing.”

“It wasn’t for nothin’ and the douche will be fine.” He staggers at the fire in your eyes. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“That seems to be the only thing you can say,” you huff. You turn to him, needing to know the answer to this. “Are you really sleeping with other people?”

He notices how small your voice is as you ask.

He sighs and looks down for a little, before tightening the grasp of your hand. “I was.”

You stand up while trying to get Ari to let go of your hand. The last thing you want is for him to see the tears begging to fall.

Ari stands with you in haste, bringing his other hand to palm your cheek as he looks down at you. Those piercing blue eyes saying so many things at once. “Was. I was. Listen, I haven’t slept with anyone else other than you since last month. It was a moment of weakness and you can’t be mad at me for it. We’ve never made anything official, baby.”

“Do you even care about me? At all.”

It feels vulnerable and desirous, but you’re unsure how you can continue without asking.

“What? Did tonight not show you that?”

You go to argue, but he cuts you off before you can start.

Both his hands cup your face while his thumb draws circles on the apple of your cheekbones.

“I love you.”

Your breath picks up at his admission.

“It’s been months coming, but you gotta know since our first night together I haven’t slept with anyone other than Joy and that was only once. And I didn’t think I could tell you because.. I’m just not the guy you typically go for, Y/n. But I guess that was my own insecurities playing a part of that. I’m rambling and i probably sound like Steve after he takes one hit. But I promise I’ve admired you for so long and it has never been just sex to me. I don’t want my stupid mistake to get in the way of us trying correctly this time.”

You swing your arm over the back of his neck and pull him in a kiss, your other hand fists his shirt.

He lags at first before his brain catches up and he’s kissing you back harder. He tilts his head just a smidge like he always does and one of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head. You feel his other hand cup the side your body. His hand roams up and down before he’s slipping it behind you to squeeze your ass. You moan into him, pressing your body closer to him.

Both your breaths pick up and you know you need a breather. So you pull away in a blur.

“I love you too.”

He smiles at your admission. One of those adorable, rare smiles not many get to see from the broody man.

You smack his arm and he grabs it with a questioning look.

“But I’m still really pissed at you and I’m not letting you off easy.”

“Even if I ask you to be my girlfriend?” He snakes his brawny arms around your waist, pulling you closer as he ducks to kiss your cheek.

“Even then,” you giggle, turning his head for a kiss. “And that’s a yes.”

a/n: it's been so long, hi!!! sorry i disappeared

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback 💗

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elsweetheart · 2 years ago

Text

what you heard — part two.

synopsis: you start to develop feelings for your boyfriends dealer. part two of this fic.

♪ what you heard — sonder ♪

cw: reader is dating a man, mentions of cheating, mentions of weed, men being annoying, smutsmutsmut, brief mention of violence. some angst? kinda. i guess. happy ending tho yay!

an: hi! it’s here! thank you for alllll the love on the first fic, i can’t believe how much people enjoyed it! i’m actually super proud of this one, my favourite thing i’ve written me thinks …… anyways yea! there will be no part three so pls don’t ask! ily ♡

It’s been a week. You haven’t spoken.

There’s blue-magenta behind your eyes. It swirls into contours and bubbles, recognisable sights beginning to take shape. Things go stark white, and then pale pink. Chartreuse fades in to khaki green into pale grey before you see a brick orangey red. You start to feel, aware of your senses. The brick becomes hair, and the hair tickles your neck.

You hear next, your own sigh. Your fingers press into an arm — your tight grip creates a white halo in their skin. You grip tighter, you have red fingernails now. You don’t remember getting them painted that colour. Half moons dust their skin from your touch. Freckles too.

A familiar feeling inside of you, that searing, hot, beautiful pressure in your groin. It feels good this time, not rushed and fast. Something smooth drags in and out of you, smoother than you’ve felt down there before. Something smells herby… herby and familiar, mixed with something else you can’t make out. The feeling builds, and you’re being touched all over with tender hands. Hands. A pixelated tattoo — not remembering the details.

The picture gets clearer, and you see your own smooth thighs. The freckle on the centre of one of them. They’re being pushed up rhythmically at the same time, a body slot between them. You see purple plastic now, coated and slick— and you realise you can hear yourself again. Loud, whiny, on the edge of… of something.

“Doin’ such a good job taking me, you look so pretty.” The echoey voice belongs to Ellie Williams and you look up to see her face. She’s wearing the grey hoodie she wore the last time you saw her. She looks the same down to her hair, but — wasn’t her eyebrow slit on the other eyebrow? You become more aware and it switches when you blink. How are you blinking? Fingers brush your clit and you gasp for air, skin on fire. “Better than your boyfriend, huh?” You were struck with euphoria, the sound of the ocean deafeningly loud, roaring monstrously in your ears. White noise. Nothing.

You gasped, and you were on your back still — but this time your room was dark, you were still wearing your clothes, and no Ellie. Your heart thumps, and your body reacts the same way it would as if you’d had a nightmare. You barely catch your breath, and the bed shifts beside you.

“Babe — makin’ so much noise. Woke me up, fuck.” The irritated grumble of your boyfriend. You don’t remember him sliding in beside you, and when your senses arrived back into your body, having been borrowed by the dream version of you, you were hit by the familiar and yet not at all comfortable stench of beer. Louis’ skin was pink and clammy under the moonlight peeking through your window and you felt that ugly feeling you’d been cursed with lately, disgust. It piled up inside your stomach like bile before washing away into the numb feeling of regret. He had gone to a party near by, a frat house — Delta something? Or was it Alpha? Clearly he couldn’t be all that bothered to walk back to his own dorm, staying with you instead. Maybe you shouldn’t have given him your spare key card. You push the thought away, and you try to like him again.

You squint in the low light, fully waking yourself up now. You shifted, thighs clattering into eachother with not much room, Louis taking up the bed. At the shift of your legs, you’re alarmed by the way your pyjama shorts cling to your hot, wet centre and suddenly you’re brought back to reality. You were having a wet dream about Ellie.

Guilty, your head turns to look at the man beside you. The room is filled by his deep heavy breaths, and the scratchy sound your hair made against the pillow when you turned your head. A small brown birthmark splotches on his bare shoulder, and you wonder if you squint, it could look like freckles. Reaching out, your fingers brush over it — and you are ejected from the moment instantly as he groans at the contact, rolling over. To add insult to injury, he thrusts a pillow out from beneath his head and shoves it between the two of you half awake. Message received.

You stare at the square tiles of your ceiling. Ellie Ellie Ellie. You wondered what she was doing right now, probably fast asleep. You lift your head quietly to look at your alarm clock, a bright red ‘02:55AM’ scalding your eyes. She could be at a party still, dealing. You pictured her there, hands stuffed in her pockets, wearing that cute khaki green windbreaker jacket that you secretly loved and her black jeans— her hair up in that messy half up bun. You don’t stop your cheeks from pushing up as you close your eyes, thinking of your new friend fondly. Your eyes felt heavier now, and you let yourself immerse into the fantasy, too sleepy to reject it or bare any guilt for daydreaming. You’re there at the party too, wearing something tight. Ellie notices you right away, eyes flickering over you in that way she has about her which is somehow equally loserish and confident. You walk over to her, and you’re too tired to fathom a conversation — but you’re not too drunk like you were last time, and there’s giggling and touching, and best of all Ellie isn’t looking at any other girls. She isn’t even focused on dealing anymore. She gives you all of her attention.

You fall asleep that way. You don’t dream of her, or anything for that matter for the rest of the night but the sleep is peaceful and you wake up well rested.

It’s 9:22AM when you wake up, and Louis is gone. Probably to make his 9AM lecture, turning up still drunk which you’re sure was absolutely hilarious to him and his friends, whilst the professor was probably hoping he wouldn’t turn up at all. You rub your eyes, and that nagging feeling in your chest kicks in.

One could truly never appreciate those first thirty seconds after you wake up. Still dreamy and disorientated, no anxiety, no worries — just bliss. Until you remember the current affairs of your life, and your eyes open.

Your phone is cold in your hand when you reach over and take it off charge, your free hand rubbing the sleep out your eyes as you suppress a yawn. Your stomach bottoms out, which is honestly sickening so early in the morning, as your eyes immediately land on a text from Ellie herself. Oh God, please tell me I didn’t reach over and text her in my sleep about my daydreams. It was unrealistic, but you definitely wouldn’t put it past yourself lately. You feel a blossom of disappointment bloom below your rib cage when you read ‘30% off for my fav custys. Blue dream, Purple haze, OG Green Kush. Get at me. Can do pick up or delivery tonight 📢🧟‍♀️’ Just another mass text, after all — Ellie was a business woman.

You swipe back onto your lockscreen, and chase the red ‘1’ symbol besides the Instagram logo, following it all the way to your DMS. Oh? Oh.

You see the first few words of the message from the preview, and your stomach fizzes up like shaken pop.

‘hey girl, i know you don’t know me but this is weighing on my mind so i have to tell you. last night your boyfriend louis was at the party down at alpha phi and we made out a couple of times before going upstairs and having sex. i didn’t know he had a gf until afterwards bc someone told me and i feel really guilty. u deserve better babe! just thought i’d let u know. i’m so sorry!!!’

Right, okay. This is not how you thought your day would begin.

You sit up slowly, like you’re worried that if you sit up too fast you’ll freak yourself out. How could this happen? You knew Louis was a bit of a dick sometimes, but a cheater? He seemed kind of territorial around Ellie at that party if you remembered correctly. So why would he wanna cheat?

You stare at the wall. Cry, damnit. Cry!

You don’t. But maybe you’re in shock. You pick your phone up again and text the girl back, a simple ‘thank you, will dump him today’ which you admit sounded kind of casual and hilarious, but you truly didn’t know what to say. You wasn’t really sure what to do. Do you just go about your day as normal? No, you needed to dump him. Okay, yes. First order of business.

Not over text, no. You were classier than that — although he didn’t deserve more than a ‘bye loser!’ text followed by the blocking of his number. You squint outside at the sun, showered and got dressed, pulling another one of your many sundresses over your frame. Despite the nagging, nervous feeling in your stomach it felt like a normal day. Maybe it wasn’t the end of the world.

You sat at your desk, staring at the wall. You’ll get up and go eventually you thought. You stayed in your room for hours.

4:47PM. No music in your earphones today, it didn’t feel right. Your mind was too loud anyways, you weren’t quite sure you’d even be able to hear the music over your thoughts. Your body was on autopilot as you walk. Louis should be getting out of his afternoon class in 13 minutes approximately, you’ll just wait for him outside and confront him there. Quick and easy.

But there’ll be people around, and you don’t want to make a scene do you? What if he’s with his friends and they all laugh at you? You figured it was more embarrassing for you than it was for him. What were you thinking getting involved with a frat boy? Of course he was going to cheat. The building that his class would be in was in sight now, footsteps quickening. Your heart was quickening now too, not with nerves but with anger. Anger at him. Anger at yourself, moreso. How did you let him cheat? How did you let it go on long enough for that to happen? Why didn’t you cheat first?

Your own thought sends you skidding to a stop. That’s… not you. You’re not a cheater. Regardless of what the person you’re dating does, it’s not right. Noise attracts you up ahead, and you see gaggles of students begin to leave the building — class having finished early. You don’t think, just dart left and keep walking. Away from the building, and Louis. Your feet start to hurt in your shoes from the way the soles of your feet are pounding against the bright concrete in the late afternoon sun. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I chickened out. Your brain screams at you and you’re already heading in the direction of the place that quiets your mind. You keep walking until you’re inside Ellie’s building.

There’s no time to think as you walk up to the beige door you knew too well, the familiar whiteboard pinned to it reading ‘Ellie’ in her slightly messy scribble, with ‘Knock first, assholes.’ scribed beneath it smaller. You do just that, you knock. After you do, you stand back — catching your breath from the stairs you took up there. You hadn’t even thought of what you were gonna say. Did you have money on you? Yes. You could just buy some of the weed she sent out the mass text about, and see where it goes from there. Solid plan.

You were too busy rehearsing what you were gonna say to realise that you hadn’t heard any movement from inside her room. An image of her fast sleep, drooling on her pillow napping crossed your mind and if you weren’t so wired up you’d maybe smile. You knock again, a little more timidly this time but feeling the same level of urgency. You tried to recall if she’d ever mentioned sleeping with headphones on? Your brows furrow, and just when you knock again — the door beside Ellie’s opens, a ginger guy wearing a jersey and sweatpants poking his head round to look at you.

“If you’re looking for Ellie I saw her go out earlier. She’s not in.” He rasped, and you’d realised that your knocking had perhaps woken him up from a slumber, instead of the imaginary Ellie who wasn’t in her room. You feel your heart drop a few centimetres before pattering against your chest in embarrassment, face feeling hotter than it already was.

“Oh, okay. Sorry if my knocking woke you up.” You cringe with a polite smile that he doesn’t return.

“She’s a dealer, you’re meant to text before you come over so this shit doesn’t happen.” He grumbles, before sulking back into his room — door closing. Your eyes widen— Jheez. Touchy.

You stare at Ellies door again, rolling your lips into your mouth as you thought. Maybe this was a good thing, fate even. You shouldn’t have come here. You should have just gone straight to Louis and dumped his ass like you originally planned— not run straight to your emotional-support-dealer who was complicating things enough as it is. You could have really done with smoking first though, you realised — which actually made your eyes glaze over with tears. Ellie’s weed was just behind that door.

You finally managed to peel yourself away, shamefully plodding back the way you came. You were halfway down the hall, when the door you were headed for opened — the sound of an oh so familiar laugh reaching your ears before your eyes found her. Ellie was walking along side Dina, the two chatting as your dealer searched her pockets for her keycard. There was a second or two when they hadn’t seen you yet, and you slowed down your pace — eyes raking over her. There was no reason for her to look so good, you almost felt like it was on purpose — hair in that classic half updo and an old white wifebeater clinging to her frame, black backpack on her back with simple black jeans and scuffed vans. You panicked, turning around hoping she wouldn’t see you, realised there was nowhere to run to, and spun back around to the two girls. When you did, they were already looking at you cautiously.

Dina looked at you, and then looked at Ellie, then back at you. Ellie called your name, pace slowing and you smiled sheepishly, praying the embarrassed and stressed tears threatening to spill would get sucked back into your eyes.

“Hey. Sorry I should have texted I was just…” Your eyes remove themselves from her, flying up to the ceiling so that the tears wouldn’t spill. You suck in a calming breath. Why now? Why was it all hitting you now? You glanced back at her just to see her face drop upon inspecting your state, and looked back at Dina.

“I’ll just grab the textbook from you later on, or you can bring it to me when you’re done — it’s chill.” Dina shrugged, and you could tell she was trying to be casual and polite despite it perhaps being an inconvenience to do so.

“Yeah. I’ll bring it.” Ellie nodded vigorously, like she were just about to ask her to do so. “I’ll see you later, D.”

Dina sent you a sympathetic smile before backing up towards the doorway, heading out. You fist at your dress uncomfortably, a silence settling over the two of you as you both watch her leave.

“Uh, come in.” Ellie speaks gently, in lieu of your frazzled state. She taps her keycard on the reader and opens the door, pressing her back to it to hold it open for you before closing it behind you. You watch the way she instantly makes herself at home like usual, kicking off her shoes dropping her backpack, sitting on the bed. You don’t move, just standing there in front of the door watching her. This really wasn’t meant to happen, therefore you had no time to mentally prepare yourself. Your brain was catching up, forcing you to dawdle and have an outer body experience in Ellie’s dorm.

“You… okay?” She raised an eyebrow, eyes flitting over the way you were gripping your sundress like it was going to fly off your body if you didn’t. You nodded, non verbal for a moment, eyes not meeting hers. You seemed to be coping fine before, but being around Ellie made you… vulnerable. Like you were worried that everything would just come out, word vomit all over your dress, and all your emotions were brought to the surface instantly by her calming nature. When you didn’t speak, she did. “You want pre-rolls? I got a couple, I dunno if you got my text.” She starts to reach for her backpack again. “Sorry I wasn’t here — you didn’t tell me you were coming so I—”

“Louis cheated on me.” You blurt and she freezes, ceasing to reach for her bag and reverting to the position she was sat on the bed before. Her face scrunches up a little.

“What?”

“Yeah— he…yeah.” There’s no emotion behind your words now, staring past her at the wall. Her eyes squeeze shut, scrambling for words for a moment as she pushes herself to stand.

“What did— how did you find out?” She exasperates, slowly stepping your way.

“I just woke up to a DM on Instagram from some random girl spilling everything, saying that she didn’t know he had a girlfriend and fucked him. She was really nice about it though.” You ponder, shaking yourself back to your senses. It felt more real now that you had said it out loud, which was kind of comforting in a way.

“Damn.” Ellie whispers, now stood right in front of you. Her fingers nervously graze your arm, wanting to comfort you. “I’m… really sorry babe.” Babe. You don’t have time to register the nickname as she takes action on her impulses, suddenly wrapping her arms around you and pulling you in for a hug. You’re caught off guard, arms hovering for a moment before wrapping around her. You squeeze, and it feels good to be held by her. You nuzzle into her neck as she rubs comforting circles on your waist with her thumbs, your breathing synced up.

“I’m not.” It comes out muffled into her, and she pulls back slightly— warm breath wafting over your face as she stares down at you in confusion. “Huh?”

“I’m…relieved. I don’t feel anything. I don’t… care.” You admit, brows furrowing in a way that made Ellie think you felt guilty for having this outlook.

“Maybe you’re in shock.”

“Maybe I just didn’t like him.” You quickly admit even quieter, like the two of you were having a whisper off. She stared at you, not able to help herself from glancing at your glossed lips, and wondered if you could feel her heartbeat speed up as your bodies were pressed so tightly together.

“No?”

“Maybe I… was already cheating on him in my head.”

Green light, Ellie thinks — infact she’d never known a light greener. She closes in on you, your back rebounding a little off the door, eyes locked in on eachothers lips. They nearly touch, the two of you exchanging a breath when a deafening knock sounds on the wooden door you were pressed against, making the two of you jump. Ellie pulls back, smiling sheepishly at your nervous giggle and she presses into you even more, bringing her eye to the view-hole over your head in the door to see who it was, expecting a customer. She pulls back, face to face and her eyes are wider this time, cheeks reddening.

“Think someone came lookin’ for you.”

Your own eyes expand, and you spin around to look through — a fisheye lens view of Louis stood there, stupid backwards cap on his head and meaty hands stuffed into his board-shorts as he obnoxiously chewed his gum.

Ellie’s heart swells for you when you spin around, looking at her desperately in a panic.

“Don’t wanna see him! I — I can’t. Not yet!” You whisper, breath shaking in your throat and she nods, a comforting hand on your arm rubbing for a moment as she pushes you into the crevice of the wall where the door would open on, hiding you. He knocks again, and you hear Ellie’s neighbour groan, angry footsteps thudding towards his own door through the wall.

“S’okay. Hey, s’alright. Fuck it— uh, I’ll see what he wants.” She nods at your worried expression, opening the door before her neighbour gets to him— boxing you in behind it. You had kind of hoped the sleep deprived neighbour would have gotten to Louis first, giving him a piece of his mind.

“Yo.” Louis greet, uninterested and you cringed, already wondering how you ever dated that. Ellie stared at him, waiting for him to ask about you. Waiting for her chance to chew him out. “Lemme get a half ounce. You got purple haze?” He sniffed.

“Looks like I’m fresh out.” You could hear the anger in Ellie’s voice just from the sight of him, which concerned you whilst equally validated you. She was blunt, tilt her chin up the way she did at that pool party, exuding confidence.

“Damn. What else you got?” He sighed, not seeming to pick up of Ellie’s raging ‘Fuck you’ vibe. She didn’t move to rummage her drawers or invite him in. She simply stood, unwavering. Staring. Borderline glaring, urging him to just get the picture that he wasn’t welcome here tonight. Or ever again, if she was being honest.

“Got nothin’ for you, man.” She held his gaze. He faltered now. Oh? Eyes flitting all around her face like he was trying to work out what her problem is. What did she know?

“You’re all out?” He flattened his voice just a bit more. A tone to his voice that said ‘Are you fucking with me?’

“Looks like I am.”

You heard him shuffling awkwardly, before kissing his teeth and stepping away. “Aight.”

There was no blow up, no gross attitude from Louis, no flip out from Ellie where she’d punch him in the face in your honour. He simply laid down and accepted that he was gonna be weed-less tonight, and fucked off. You peeked, watching Ellie continue to stare him down with her stony expression as he walked away before closing the door softly, revealing you behind it — cramped up in the corner. You looked dishevelled and wide eyed, having had to make an effort to not breathe, let alone speak. She felt her heart just… soften at the sight of you. In a way, you’d kind of resembled a scared stray kitten who’s run away from their big bad owner, and who better to take you in than a loving student with plenty of catnip?

She cleared her throat, stepping back and allowing you to move out of the cramped space behind the door.

“Just hearing him makes me mad.” You huff, walking over to her bed and plopping down on the end of it, defeated. She wipes her hands on her jeans, a little awkwardly — still recovering from your near kiss turned near confrontation.

“Yeah. Kinda took me everything not to kick his scrawny ass.” She shook it off, eyebrows jumping up as she envisioned the scene. You did too, something stirring deep within you at the vision of Ellie beating him, knuckles splattered with blood, angry grimace on her face. You shoo it away quickly, not wanting to indulge in that sick fantasy. You let out a non committal hum, dragging your eyes away from her.

“So did you want any weed? I can hook you up with something…” She took a step toward her black backpack that was slumped against the floor. You shook your head quickly, knowing she wouldn’t let you pay for it yet again given your state and well — as much as you adored free weed, you couldn’t do that to her twice in a row.

“No, no. I don’t think I’m in the right headspace to smoke, you know? Probably not the best idea.” You conversed, staring ahead as you took a long deep breath — feeling the slightest spark of what could be relief that things were finally over, despite the betrayal of being cheated on. You thought you had buried what you really wanted deep inside, turns out it was right on the surface the whole time. Was it that obvious to Ellie how needy you really were for her the whole time? You thought back to your near-kiss a few moments back, heat crawling up the back of your neck like the feeling of being flustered was submerging you in it’s lusty molasses. You realised she was saying nothing, just watching you as she swayed on her feet — nervously toeing at the carpet.

Shit, maybe you’d overstepped.

“Sorry — I can head out now. I don’t know why I ran here I just — I didn’t know where to go. Sorry.” You stood up and Ellie’s eyes enlarged, her own heart thumping as she tried to muster up the words to just speak. She was unprepared, she’d admit — this whole thing was not how she thought it would go down. She’d always imagined you banging on her door in the middle of the night, begging her to fuck you, something about Louis not being able to do it right, and she was the only one who could do the job. You’d be on eachother in an instant, limbs and moans, loud and messy, and afterwards— afterwards is when you’d have the discussion. She’d tell you that she can treat you better, and you’d say that you’d always wanted her. Not… this. This was slow, bordering on awkward. Come on Ellie, get it together.

“Hey.” It came out gentle, and almost like a Pavlov response to her tone, you calmed — eyes melting into a soft gaze as her hand grazed your arm, stopping you in your tracks. “We don’t need to smoke to hang out. I’m cool to just… talk. If you wanna.”

So you did.

You talked, and in no time you were laughing away, problems seemingly forgotten as you laid side by side on the bed. Ellie had some kind of magic about her, a type that inspired time to stop when the two of you would hang out. You wouldn’t notice the sun going down outside the window, or the way your bodies would overtime shift closer and closer to eachother on the bed until your shoulders were pressed together. Your shoes were kicked off and the window was open — bringing a warm, balmy evening humidity into the dorm. At the dawn of summer, the warm and lethargic evenings were one of your favourite things about the season change. They were even better with Ellie, you thought.

“So, did it work?” She was smirking, the laugh clenching the back of her throat like she was on the verge of letting out a ridiculous school-girl giggle.

“Did what work? You can’t just start a sentence like that and expect me to know what you mean.” You picked up her brown stuffed bear from the bed and swat her with it— the memory of the last time you were in her room springing up. What went down on this very bed. Suddenly, you realised what she might have been talking about.

“Shut up.” She chuckled. “My handy tips and tricks. Did you ever get down to having a better time in the bedroom?” She wiggled her brows, the arm furthest from you coming up to rest behind her head as she turned slightly to look at you — face close enough to see the green speckles caressed by hazel in her limbal rings.

“Ellie.” You groan in embarrassment, covering your face (and more so, your sheepish smile.) The smile peeked from behind your palms anyway, and Ellie capsized onto her side, leaning on her elbow now with her own grin — caused by the adorable-ness of yours.

“S’just a question.” Her voice was gentle and flat in her deep drawl, pulling your hands away from your face with the help of her own fingers pulling it away. Her hand stayed on top of yours when you rested it on top of your ribs.

“Do I have to answer?” You squint and her mouth turned downwards in thought with a inattentive shrug.

“No.” That mischievous smile of hers crept back up. “But that won’t stop me from guessing your answer.”

You gaze down at her hand on top of yours. It was cold like it always was — having caught her touch through grazed fingers with a weed baggie between them and friendly arm caresses when running into eachother in public. You wondered how her hands were still cold, even in the smouldering warmth of her dorm. You avoid her smug gaze.

“Well what do you think?” You quieten your voice, smile still lingering as you wiggle your fingers beneath her palm, she squeezes your fingers with her own — pinning them down where they rest. Ellie thinks, briefly distracted by your hands flirting.

“Hm.” She pretended to think. “Maybe. You probably tried to help him, bein’ a good person n’all. But you know… what was it you said last time? You either got it or you don’t?”

You said nothing, considering her guess. She waited, for some kind of reaction giving away whether or not she was right or wrong. When it didn’t come, she prompt you.

“No?” Her thumb was on top of the back of your hand now, her other fingers tucked beneath your palm— her knuckles laying flat against your ribs. The touch being so close to your tits sent your mind reeling and it took you a moment to respond, her thumb just stroking slow languid circles on your own knuckles.

“Since that day I haven’t… me and him didn’t…” You admit, finally braving a glance up to her eyes. They’re intense, as inspected — flickering back up to your eyes from your lips, caught. “He wanted to, but… I didn’t want to even try anymore.”

“And whys that?” She rushed out, internally yelling at herself for the speed in which she prompted you. Patience Ellie, Jesus fucking Christ. You know where this is headed, and if you push too hard she’ll spook like last time. Be cool.

Your cheeks pushed up, and she assumes you’re fighting a giggle at her eager response. Luckily, you don’t mention it. “Lets say you wanted a sandwich…” You started. Okay, what the fuck. Where was this going?

“Uh— sure?”

“And there’s a sandwich store in your town. Their sandwiches… aren’t very good. You think, maybe I’m ordering the wrong sandwich. But all the sandwiches taste the same and they’re all… bad. But then a new sandwich place opens up down the street. The sandwiches look amazing, and everything about it is perfect. Would you keep going back to the bad sandwich store?”

Ellie squinted, slowly sitting up a little more with an exasperated expression as her brain caught up.

“You did all that… instead of just telling me that you couldn’t fuck Louis anymore because you wanted to fuck me?”

You burst into giggles. “I’m shy!” You whine, rolling away from her to face the wall beside her bed. She laughs heartily in disbelief, her hands coming to tickle your waist without a thought.

“Oh you’re shy?” She snickered through your squeals. “Fuckin’ Shakespeare over here — what sandwich store huh? No, really. I’m dying to know where that came from.”

You flipped to face her suddenly, her face unexpectedly close. You faltered, eyes dropping to her pretty, naturally red lips before pulling them away in order to get your words out. “It was the best way I could explain it, okay?”

“Alright, wordsmith.” She was not just smirking, but openly staring at your mouth now, so close her breath was tickling your nose.

“You’re so annoying.” You press your lips together, subconsciously hiding them in nerves.

“Yeah?” Kiss me. Kiss me before I fucking do it.

“Yeah. Always popping up in my dreams too.” You beam, leaning into her a little now. Please kiss me. And she nearly does, but your words hit her and her curiosity gets the better of her. Fuck. She pulls away a little, eyes boring back into yours.

“What dream? Tell me ‘bout your dream.” She’s whispering now, brow jabbing downward in curiosity. You sigh, eyes closing. Why would you bring that up? You drop your head back onto the pillow.

“I just… had these dreams. About you.” You open your eyes. There’s blu-tack stuck to her ceiling tile. Her finger almost makes you jump as it curls beneath your chin with the gentlest touch, turning your face back to look at her.

“What happened in these dreams? Hm?”

You suck on your bottom lip, taking the time to take in all her features. The way it seemed like nothing else in the world mattered, just the two of you laying close on this bed, backed into the corner against the wall. Your cunt was aching — you let yourself realise this now.

“We’d be here. Just like this.” You murmur, your own fingers running up her wrist to meet her hand where it cupped your chin. Her eyes followed your movements, glued to your baby pink fingernails. “We’d be laughing, and talking and suddenly… we’re kissing. And… you’re on top of me.”

Thank fuck for your sundress, Ellie’s eyes were truly blessed — dropping down shamelessly to your tits as they begin to push against the material, already practically spilling out from your compromising position. She realises that you’re drawing in a long breath, followed by shorter, wetter ones. You swallow, panting from the memory. Jesus fucking Christ loops around her head, bouncing off the walls of her brain in an echo-chamber of horny. What next? What happens next?

“And then you’re… pushing into me and it feels good. Better than… better than he could ever make me feel. And you’re telling me I’m pretty… and how good I’m doing… just like you said you would.” You’re even quieter, but your words couldn’t be louder to Ellie. She’s tormented, wanting you to finish off your story, the tale of your dirty dreams — but equally wanting to cut it short by shutting you up with her mouth on yours. Decisions, decisions.

Your brows are furrowed, your hand sliding her hand down to your throat— just pressing it there. Maybe for comfort, maybe just to feel her touch. Likely because it’s turning you on. She can feel your pulse thrumming violently against your skin. Ellie’s eyes are all pupil. Is that your heartbeat or mine?

“And I cum.” You grin slowly in disbelief, eyes glazed over completely like you’ve been crying, brows still pinched in that endearing furrow. “I actually cum. And it’s so good. Because it’s you. And only you can—”

Fuck it.

Her mouth is on yours in an instant, swallowing the surprised whimper when she rolls over to hover over you, her knee pressed between your legs. Her tongue introduces itself to yours quickly, the wet muscles sliding over eachother in greeting like they were old friends. Her hand still cupped your throat where you had guide her and she could barely think, her body on pure primal autopilot. Ellie liked to think she was fairly experienced, but shit — it’s never felt like this before.

Her hands are everywhere. You’re trying to count them because you’re sure — certain even that you can feel more than two sliding over you, pushing your dress further up your thighs, kneading your warm, plush breasts. Your legs are falling open wider, like her tongue had reached a spot in your mouth that had triggered you to just go limp, and with the movement her knee presses up just a little more snug against your hot cunt. You shift on it, on instinct and the friction of it just… you moan.

Ellie can’t help but notice how relieved it sounds, and she wants to coo at you, chuckle and tease you about being sooo pent up, because little Louis couldn’t find that pretty clit. But she couldn’t drag her mouth away from you, having journeyed right down to your neck, sucking and biting— marking you. You belonged to her now, and there was no doubt about that. You couldn’t go back on yourself now, no. Not with Ellie all over you.

You kept shifting on it, experimentally grinding your pantie-clad pussy against her jean covered knee. You don’t even recall ever being in this position with Louis, and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter, huffing out your nose. Get that man out of your head, before he ruins the mood.

You let out another quiet mewl, and God — Ellie just had to pull away and look at you. Just a little bit, just close enough to still be breathing hard into each-other’s mouth. When your eyes fluttered open, she swore she could have died right there. You look flushed, pupils blown out with that needy look in your eye. As the moment settled in, hips still weakly bucking against her knee and hands desperately grabbing at her shoulders — Ellie felt a small tremor beneath your body, like a tiny earthquake had occurred right below you. It travelled up your body, falling out of your mouth in the language of a trembling gasp. Were you…?

Ellie grinned, proudly — brows knit as if to say ‘awwww’. And then she did say it, mouth running without permission from her brain. “Aw, you’re shaking.” She whispered, like it was a secret being shared at a sleepover. You weren’t your usually giggly self now, getting shy on her and turning away — you just wet your lips, tilting your hips for more and pulled her back in to kiss.

Ellie’s hand were pulling at your dress before she remembered to ask, so she slowed down hoping you’d say something. As she peeled away the fabric, dragging your straps down your arms her lips followed, pressing chaste kisses to the warm skin. You sighed at the feeling, melting into her bedsheets and Ellie tugged just that bit harder, your tits free from the dress now that bunched around your waist. The dealers eyes were on them, and then on your face, and then back to your tits when she remembered she was actually allowed to be looking at them this time. Her hands followed, doing what she’d always dreamt of.

The coldness of her palms brought your nipples to a peak and you wanted to roll over and hide again, but you couldn’t — because Ellie was dragging her spread hands up your ribs and grabbing the fat of your tits and it just felt too good. Felt good to be appreciated, analysed, borderline worshipped as Ellie dragged her thumbs over your nipples making a low whine fall from your throat accidentally.

“Shit, babe.” She breathed in disbelief, looking up at you once more and retreating to drop a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You this pretty everywhere?”

You didn’t know what to say, so you said nothing at all— arching your chest into her touch. She gave them a firm squeeze before reluctantly pulling away to continue on her journey down your body, her mission to get your dress completely off still in full pursuit.

She immediately dives in to press a pouty kiss between your tits as soon as she can, letting her top lip drag slightly as she trails her lips downwards to your stomach. Don’t rush this, Ellie — she thinks, and for a moment she fears she accidentally said it out because you giggle. She looks up at you, a little wide eyed in confusion at your dazed titter. Her hands are curled around your sides now, thumbs resting on your rib cage, and your hand is creeping up the back of her head to caress the soft hair there.

“Tickles.” You mutter and she grins wolfishly, shaking her head ever so slightly as she gets back to it. A little impatiently, she tugs the dress down your hips, the material straining ever so slightly before she can slide them down your legs. You help her, kicking the material up and off and hearing it flump onto the floor beside her bed.

She was hungry now, closer and closer to what she wanted but her laser focus was on proving herself. You deserved to feel good, and that’s exactly what she was gonna give you. She needed to show you that she was the better option, that she could look after you right. Her hands were pushing your thighs open now, her face flushed and desperate as she pressed kisses to the inside. She hadn’t even spared a glance at your underwear yet, couldn’t even tell you what colour they were — just fixated on sucking marks into your skin, making sure that the dark purple were visible when she’d pull away with a pop.

Embarrassingly so, you bucked your hips against nothing— the stretch of material spread over your clit just barely grazing the button. You understood perfectly what her game was, she’d bet you’d never been teased before and she was right — but right now you needed her touch, after so long you just needed her.

“Please.” You finally let out as her hands stroke the crevices of your thigh crease, light fingers that tickled you enough to make you buck again. Her nose pressed against the skin beside the lacy leg hole of your underwear as she pressed a firm kiss there.

“Please what.” She didn’t even stop to look at you.

“Please t—ouch me.” You shudder, words nearly cut off half way through. She stops then, eyes wide like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, before dragging them down to your panties. A soft pink, the outline of your fat lips spread due to the way she’d parted your thighs, the material stuck to them — creating the clear shape. What really caught her eye, was the growing darkness through them — soaked through from just her kisses and caressing. Confidence surged through her once again.

Her two front teeth grazed her bottom lip, bringing them down as if planning to say ‘Ffffuuuckk’ but it died on her tongue, just the ‘Ffffff’ sound whispered out. You watched her pupils double in size, and when she looked back up at you her lids were heavier.

“S’all for me?” She cooed, in this sickly sweet voice that made your fogged brain nearly not pick up on the fact that she was mocking you ever so slightly. You let out a shaky breath, and she didn’t take her eyes off you when she leant back in, pressing a soft and loving kiss over the fabric — right where your clit would be. She watched you then, jaw gaping and brows knitting, she even heard your toes clenching hard behind her because of the way the bed covers shifted. She remembered something being said about you liking when the other person took charge, and she wondered how far she could milk you into that space. How much could she force you to just let go and let her do all the thinking?

“S’right baby, just relax up for me yeah? You’re all tense.” She smoothes a hand over your tummy and Jesus, that was easy — you’re nodding furiously, body tensing and untensing a few times, actively trying to get yourself to follow her command. That’s okay, she thinks — we’ll get you there.

She starts pressing kisses around your panties again, your widened thigh crease, the spread lip peeking out from the material, along the waistband. She hears you breathing hard without looking up. Poor thing, must’ve really been unsatisfied to get this worked up so soon. Her own finger comes up to drag up and down your slit through the material, the plumpness of it having swallowed some fabric into its crease. You feel more arousal seep out of you when her finger tips circle around your clit and press down ever so slightly.

“Teasin’ me.” You manage in a strained whisper, trying to widen your legs even more. Your ankle hangs off the bed.

“Mhm.” She goes back in, pressing kisses to below where she was touching, her nose doing the work in nudging your button. She got to work, her tongue sliding out and licking up the juices that had seep through the soft pink material. You tasted just like she imagined, a little tangy and salty sweet— making saliva collect at the base of her tongue to roll down and soak you more.

The moans were flowing freely when she wrapped her toned arms around your thighs, bringing you down onto her mouth more. Through your hazy mind, you don’t quite recall ever getting to see her arms like this — and you’re just now noting how much muscle she truly had. For someone with a cocky side, she had to be pretty humble to hide them. It made the submission creep up more, the idea that she could do anything she wanted to you bouncing around your brain that was quickly emptying itself like an egg timer.

Ellie looked starved, practically unhinging her jaw to gather the saliva and arousal soaked material in her mouth and use the point of her tongue to push you where you needed her. The friction of the material between her and your clit rubbed against you in all the right ways, and just when you felt yourself drifting off into that hazy relaxed space, the same one you felt when you’d just woken up — your stomach involuntarily tensed and curled with something devastating building up. Surely not, surely Ellie wasn’t about to make you cum through your panties.

You let out a pathetic and almost fearful whine as your hand shaped itself into a claw at the back of her head, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull her away. You didn’t even think you’d be able to, her head moving vigorously with her face buried in your covered crotch. Ellie wasn’t planning on eating you out through your underwear to the point of making you cum, but as soon as you signified that there was a chance she could? It was game. Ellie was competitive by nature, and sometimes that even meant competing with herself. Bet you can’t do it, she taunts herself— and as she pins down your bucking hips that smug voice in her head responds. Bet you can.

You shake, pressing her face in further as you hit a peak — stomach clenching the same way it does when you ride a drop-coaster, seemingly plummeting to the ground on rickety tracks. Your cunt burned and ached as she frantically mouthed at your clit through the thin fabric, tongue working you in such a frenzy that you were certain if she went for any longer she’d burst a hole in the material and get to the real thing. You felt your warmth gush out, the entirety of your panties now three shades darker in colour due to yours and Ellie’s joint attack.

Her teeth scraped over your covered clit as she pant for her own breath and you jerked, oversensitive — prompting her to detach her mouth, instead choosing to rest her cheek above your waistband, pressing breathless kisses to the skin she could reach.

“Ohmy—gosh.” You whisper in the shape of a whine and she looks up at you again, a sheen of wetness around her chin and mouth from her own saliva and what had snuck through the fabric. Her thumb strokes your waist soothingly, a chuckle slipping past her lips.

“That was cute.” Was all she said and you felt the heat burn your cheeks once more. Whilst you were distracted, breathless love stuck smile hidden by your clammy palms she took the opportunity to peel your panties to the side, looking at what she’d created. She let out a warm sigh that brushed over your glistening mound, entranced by pretty much the most perfect pussy she’d ever laid eyes on. Your folds were sparkling in your own juices and she could see the way it trailed beneath you having dripped down from your leaking hole. A string of arousal still remained attached to the underwear she’d pulled aside, and she wanted to explode. She placed two thumbs either side of the lips, pulling you apart a little more and you ripped your hands away from your face to watch — a feverish whimper leaving you from her touch. “So fucking pretty. ‘My god.” She sighs, pink tongue licking a stripe of you bottom to top, savouring in your taste— now unfiltered and louder on her tongue with nothing between the two of you. You let out a sob, still a little sensitive and your knees come up beside your chest, hand trembling on her head. She sucks on your clit, directly this time and it gets too much, your thighs attempting to crush her head like a watermelon. She removes her thumbs from beside your cunt to slam her hands quickly into the back of your thighs, pushing herself deeper into you as she shoves your thighs up, keeping you open. She hums against you threateningly and you cry, burbling out her name and a load of nonsense.

“ElsEllie—Ell—ie— s’too much I’m— already—” you try but it barely makes it’s way past your lips. She pulls away with an obscene pop, choosing to pepper kisses to your pubic mound instead and looking up at you warningly.

“Just take it pretty girl, gotta be brave about it yeah?” Tough love, because she’s desperate to taste you just a little longer. You’re about to protest, something along the lines of ‘give me a breather’ or ‘wait a minute or i’m gonna cum again too fast’ when you feel the coarse pads of her fingers slide up beneath her mouth, applying just enough pressure to the skin around your clenching hole to silence you.

She just rubs, massages the area, attacking your clit with her tongue once more. The movements are more precise, more pointed — the tip of the muscle circling around your button dizzyingly before you feel her middle finger dip into your hole ever so slightly. “Let me have you baby, let me in.” She whispers on you and you’re nodding, against your will, head thudding back into the pillow and nipples pebbled like you wouldn’t believe. You can have me. You can have me forever if you keep eating it like this.

She sinks her finger in, and you go against your brain and squeeze hard against it— like— if she were wearing a ring you’d be able to pull it off, that’s how hard you squeezed. “Hey.” Was all she whispered, a line appearing in her forehead when she looked at you, the trace of something sterner behind her expression. “Not going anywhere sweetheart, loosen up for me.” She stroked your thigh and you whimpered, doing your best.

“M’sorry” you shivered and she forgave you by kissing your clit again, beginning to drag her finger outwards. Not long after, her other finger joined and you went blind for a moment when they pressed up against something soft and spongy.

“Theeeere she is.” She spoke, more to herself as you hiccuped, hands clutching yourself now, self soothing because holy hell — you’d never felt like this before. Not even by yourself. “Thats it baby, good girl.”

You squeezed again at the praise. Good girl. You’d been waiting for it, anticipating your favourite words from all of your fantasies and it sounded better than you could ever have imagined coming from her Texan drawl. She smiled, like she knew — and tsked at you tensing again. From the fresh tidal wave of arousal dripping out of you from her words, your pussy all but squelched when she started to move her wrist again, grinding against that special spot. “S’talking to me, pretty. You liked that huh? Like bein’ good for me?”

You knew she had it in her— but damn— Ellie really knew what she was doing. You swore if she had dared to call you a good girl in a more casual setting before today, you might have just folded and become the cheater you swore you’d never be.

“Mhm!” Was all you could get out as you found her rhythm, working with her as you rolled you hips down on her fingers. Your chest burned with that sappy feeling — admiring the way she really did know how to look after you and give you exactly what you need. You needed to feel closeness again, and you called her name. “Ellie!”

“Yeah.” She cooed in a deep groan, lazily mouthing at you. She drew back for a moment and you thought she would give you what you wanted, but instead she went above and beyond, spitting on your clit before chasing it up with the flat of her tongue. You gasped, threatening to cut the circulation off in her fingers again.

“Ellie.” You sobbed more urgently, mouth actually downturned now like you couldn’t help from actually crying — hot tears resting in the space below your eye. The tone caught her attention and she looked up.

“Whats up baby? You feelin’ good?” Her voice was high and sympathetic, making you push your bottom lip out — trying to gather her thoughts as she continued to press you, fingers grinding inside your gummy walls.

“Yeah. Need to— need to kiss you.” You sniffle and she’s pouting back at you, instantly pushing her body up without taking her fingers out your cunt. Not that you’d let her, sucking them in desperately.

“Okay baby, alright.” She murmurs, getting herself situated on her elbow and bringing her mouth down to yours. You moan when you kiss her, mainly because she gave into your craving of her, but also because you could taste yourself all over her tongue. “Cantastethatright? Tastesgood” It’s muffled by your own lips as she speaks against them, not letting her pull back enough to speak clearly as your need to kiss her had become insatiable. You have no choice however, when you feel the pit of your stomach crying out in familiarity once more at the intense feeling.

“Ohmygod— gonna cum ‘gain Ellie. Oh Ellie!” She recalls you almost sound frightened, like you just can’t believe that someone could make her cum once, let alone twice.

“Yeah? Gonna give me another one?” She pulled away from you so that she could look at you, hand cupping up to thumb at your cheekbone so that your gaze remained on her as she did. Your eyes grew wild and desperate, wet and weak as you tried to be good for her and keep them open. “Thats it, beautiful. God— m’so fucking lucky. Just needed me to take care of you isn’t that right? That’s it baby, that’s my good girl. Take what you deserve.” You can barely hear her at this point, drowned out by the roaring white noise blasting your ears once more, your own moans a backing track. Her lips were at your temple, dropping encouraging kisses but you weren’t there. You’d floated up past her ceiling tiles, no longer a person. Yeah. That fucking good.

You came back to your body, eventually — you’re not sure when you left and when you returned but you could feel now, your own hand shooting out of its weak trance to grip her wrist and cease her movements. “El” You rasp weakly and she slows.

You seemed like you could fall asleep — and Ellie was happy to let you. You looked adorable and sleepy, so she took you in her arms, pressing kisses to your cheeks. “Did so good for me pretty girl.” She whispers, and it’s so warm and familiar like you’d been with her forever. Like that awful man had never been given the chance to touch you. What was his name again? You pout against her neck, letting her manoeuvre you and baby you. She’d clean you up in a little while, for now focused on holding you and telling you how good you did. She’d made you cum like you deserved, and that was two more times than Louis did. Ellie was… satisfied. “You okay?”

You wrapped your legs around her hips, drawing her closer to your body so that she was half on top of you. She chuckled, pulling back a little to look at you. “Hm? Caught your breath?” There was no cockiness in her voice, all gentleness when she cups your face making your eyes flutter open.

“Ellie.” You murmur, your own fingers grazing her cheeks like you were seeing her for the first time in years.

“Thats right, baby.” She grins, sounding like she was proud of you which made your heart swell. Her sweatpants covered crotch fell against your own slightly and you winced, suckling on your bottom lip and lashes fluttering from the feeling of the material against your engorged clit. “Shit, sorry—” She went to apologise, but your leg locked around her ass, pulling her back into you. You wriggled your hips, humping her like a little bunny rabbit.

Oh… you weren’t done.

“Yeah?” She was still smiling, but a darkness bolted through them, something else there, the sweetness disappearing for something more stern. “Want more?”

You’re lifting your hips now, trying to get some kind of feeling against you as your chest rises and falls — back into the swing of it. You felt deranged, like there was chance you’d be this damn horny forever.

She reaches down to grip your hips and thumps her covered cunt against yours a few times making you hum. She looks pensive, and when she looks back to you she’s decided. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

She’s pulling the harness over her boxers, sweatpants discarded next to your dress, before you’ve even registered her practically leap off the bed. The dildo attached is black, and your mind flashes back to your dream. Not purple then, huh.

She takes the time to look at you from a new angle, on your back, knees cutely pressed together. From where she stands, she can see the purple bruises her mouth had littered around your thighs. As she tightens the harness with one hand, she gently pushes you knee open with the other, getting a good look at your drenched, abused pussy. Your arms squish over your boobs, fists beneath your chin as you watch her in adoration.

Before you know it, she’s hovering over you again— leaning over to share a kiss, as if she’d missed you in the short amount of time she’d been apart from you. You feel the tip graze your slit and jolt slightly, fingers curling into her wifebeater. Pushing herself up to be able to see properly, she grips the cock in her fist before flushing.

“Fuck— uh, I don’t have lube.” She thinks, and thinks hard — this cock was undoubtably bigger than your now exes, and she didn’t want it to hurt. The idea of her splitting you open made her clit warm, but she was set on you feeling nothing short of amazing.

“S’okay.” You pout, high pitched and whiny as you tilt your hips down, trying to hump against the shaft — or the tip — or whatever you could reach.

“Nah s’big, babe. Need it nice n’wet for you.” She huffs. “Look, I can run down to the store. I know they sell it there and—”

She doesn’t even realise you’re pulling her desperately onto the bed, falling onto her back until she’s looking up at you. In any other situation, she’d expect you to suddenly be taking charge — asserting dominance, but no — you looked more fucked out than ever, staring down at her with big puppy dog eyes, whispering ‘Please’ over and over like a prayer.

She cups your cheek, pressing some of your hair against your face from her grasp and is about to clarify on ‘Please what, sweet girl?’ but the words catch in her throat when you crawl down her shakily, licking your swollen lips at the sight of her plastic cock. No way.

“You sure, baby?” The words died on her tongue as you start to mouth at it, pink tongue flattened desperately against the shiny strap. A low moan sounds from the back of your throat as you continue licking it like it had some kind of heavenly flavouring. Now Ellie knew it wasn’t strictly her dick, and maybe it was the way you were pressing the strap down into her crotch — but she couldn’t stop the curses from flying out. It felt… good. You drooled, the pearly, bubbly sheen dripping down the shaft before you took the tip of your mouth, obscene moans and sucking sounds bouncing around the room.

You pulled off with a pop for a second, glancing up at her with your hazy, submissive expression she’d grown fond of fast. “Feel like a slut.” You groan, high pitched and girlish. You had worry in your expression, brows knitted and eyes watery — but it didn’t quite meet your actions as you went back down, taking as much as you could in your throat. Ellie smirked, entertained as she pulled any hair out your face — watching your ministrations.

“You can be a slut for me if you want, it’s okay. Won’t tell anyone.” She cooes. You blink up at her, suckling on her tip. “Yeah. Don’t wanna be a slut for just anyone though do you? You want me to slut you out, like you deserve.” It doesn’t come out like a question in the slightest, her back teeth gritting when she watches your lashes flutter, eyes threatening to roll back. You pull off, dropping demure kisses to the now wet shaft. “You shy now? Come up here.” She’s grinning and you practically leap to straddle her.

You’re not focused on what she’s doing, busy kissing over her cheeks — and you’re suddenly confronted by her shifting you into position, sliding the wet tip through your velvety, leaking cunt. “You want it like this? Like how I taught you?” She tilts her head to look at you and you nod frantically, stopping yourself from lurching forward again and kissing every freckle on her face. Gotta be good for her, gotta be good for her — round and round your head like a broken record.

“Want it Ellie, please.” You whine and she’s shushing you, hot pressure searing within when she pushes in. It’s just like you dreamt, smooth— but small ridges catch inside you making you heave out a high pitched moan into her neck. Her free hand smoothes down your back, comforting you.

“I know.” She croons. “Gonna be a big girl and take it all, yeah?”

It takes you everything not to destroy the progress she’s made inside you and clamp down like a vice, so you fling in the opposite direction, arching your back into her to widen yourself. She feels this, feels you trying to help her push it inside and kisses your forehead. “Such a good fucking girl.”

She wants to give you time to adjust to the size, but as soon as it’s all the way in you rock against her, sliding it in and out. You choke out a pained whine and she tsk’s, holding you still.

“See? Just not cut out for doin’ any of the work are you?”

Something awake deep down within you past the submissive fog wants to be offended. But she’s right. You want whatever Ellie wants, and if she wants you to lay there on top of her and take it— that’s what you want too. She speaks again, and you almost hit a sudden orgasm, her feet flattening on the bed as she slowly bucks up, doing all the fucking for you as you lay limp on top of her. “Thats okay. Just my pretty pillow princess. Yeah, that sounds right doesn’t it.” She pants lowly, but the words echo around your head like she screamed it.

“Feels — so — mmpghm” Its muffled into her shoulder anyway, and her hands grip your ass cheeks, spreading you wider to take her deeper. You mewl.

“Oh that’s the spot, isn’t it babe.” The smugness is back, and you let her speed up, pounding that sore but needy spot inside you. “Fuck, gonna make me cum too with those pretty noises.” Her teeth are grit, and your mind reels. You didn’t know that was possible.

At this point, Ellie was beginning to use you to get off. The way she was tugging you back and fourth on her lap had you sliding the harness right up over her clit, the ridges inside pressing her through her boxers. If she could just hold on a little longer, put her focus back on you…

“Wish you… wish you could—” You choke on your moans, about to hurtle over the edge.

“Could what, hm?” She purses her lips, focused on her movements.

“Could cum inside me. Oh!” It hits you, and maybe it was your own words that did it. But she’s bucking off the bed soon enough, right behind you as her stomach tenses. The idea of her pearly white cum fountaining out your cunt when she’d unplug you making her go into fucking overload. She got sloppy, chasing her high but it was okay — you were crying again, the strap barely moving inside you from your clench but it didn’t stop Ellie from grinding, toes clenching and eyes squeezing shut. Fuck, fuck, shit. She was cumming.

You were pretty sure you blacked out. Because suddenly your eyes were fluttering open, senses returning to you slowly and you were just catching Ellie slipping into the bathroom, laying on your back now having been rolled over. You closed your eyes again sleepily, listening to the clattering of the harness hit the floor and a sighed out ‘Fuck’ from the dealer herself. The tap ran, and you dozed a little before Ellie returned with wipes.

“Mornin’ babe.” She chuckled, voice a little hoarse as you blinked up at her sleepily.

“Come n’cuddle.” Your voice was more hoarse, coming out cracked and squeaky. If you weren’t so sleepy, maybe you’d get shy about it.

“Alright, hold your horses. Need to get you nice and cleaned up first.” She shook her head, smiling at you affectionately as she settled between your thighs. Once she had wiped you up, helped you to the bathroom to pee, and pulled an oversized tshirt of hers over your head — then finally she was snuggling up beside you, pulling the blanket over you both. “There we go.” She stretched, arms above her head for a moment before they wrapped around you. “Ugh, I kinda stink.” She turned her nose up and you giggled into her chest. “Sorry bout that.” She chuckled.

“Don’t think you have to be sorry about anything ever again after that.” Your sweet voice is muffled, and your face warms again thinking about all the vulgar things she just did to you. All the vulgar things you did. You clamped your eyes shut, thinking about the desperate way you sucked her off.

“Good to know. In that case, definitely won’t be the last time I’m pulling that trick out.” She joked and you pulled back to look up at her with lovey-dovey eyes. She panicked, misreading. “Unless you don’t wanna…uh—”

You rolled your eyes. “I do. I want… I want you. Completely.”

Her expression softened, thumb drawing mindless shapes on your shoulder. “Yeah?”

“If you’ll have me, of course. Obviously gotta take care of… you know who, first.” You cringe, thinking it’ll surely ruin the mood.

“Can say his name you know, he’s not Voldemort.”

You giggle, snuggling back into her. “Just don’t wanna. Don’t wanna hear about that man ever again.” You smile, pressing the fat of your cheek into her small bust.

“I’m down for that.”

You let your eyes grow heavier, and when you’re silent for a few minutes — Ellie thinks you’ve fallen asleep. She smiles, in disbelief at the way things have turned out before turning her head to Dina’s textbook on the desk that she was meant to deliver to her at some point. Oops.

When she turns back to you, she almost jumps— your owlish eyes blinking up at her.

“Ellie, would you say a hot dog is a sandwich?”

She gapes down at you. “Hello?“

“Well I was talking about sandwiches earlier so now it’s on my mind!”

“Oh man, now we’re gonna have to argue. Who the hell said hot dogs are sandwiches?”

The two of you laughed, launching into a sleepy, delirium fuelled debate — and the world outside seemed to be held on pause. Maybe the reality of things would settle in tomorrow, but for now — you would just enjoy each others presence like you’d wanted to since the first time you’d met. This time, with no obstacles.

#dealer!ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou2 smut #ellie williams au

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