#i thought 'what happened with me and this guy. how did we get here?' love gave luffy a splendid body and law became the skrunkliest

[zhounauts]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ THE REVENGE HOTLINE ! PSH X FMR

SYNOPSIS got cheated on? ghosted? played? don't worry, the revenge hotlines got you! it's run by girls, and it's for the girls. XX ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ in which you're sent on a new mission by the revenge hotline to take down ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ever notorious heartbreaker, star hockey player park sunghoon. will you succeed? or will you also fall victim to his charm? WRNGS ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ cursing, parties(?)

“HELLO? REVENGE HOTLINE SPEAKING,”

“h-hello?” there’s sniffling from the other side of the phone.

“hey girl! are you okay?”

“no!” the voice wails, “men are shit!”

“oh, you poor thing,” haewon mumbles, “what happened?”

“well i thought we were something!” the voice angrily rants, “i’m so stupid, my friends all told me this would happen but i listened to all those stupid things he said to me and fell for it! how am i so stupid??”

“hey, don’t blame yourself,” haewon says, “it isn’t your fault. you were gaslighted when all you wanted to do was be loved and cared for by someone, don’t call yourself stupid for that. i know you’re better than that,”

the sniffling slows, “really?” the voice hiccups.

“really,” haewon smiles, “trust me girl, it gets better. but for now? just cry it out and surround yourself with the people who really care. one guy shouldn’t ruin everything,”

“you’re right,” the girl sniffles, “thanks a lot,”

“now, on to business,” haewon says, “who are you calling to report?”

“. . .” the girl hestitates, “it was park sunghoon. he did this to me,”

00 - plan puck bunny masterlist ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ previous ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ next

a/n hey ho!! + the taglist is open! FILL OUT THIS FORM HERE TO BE ADDED

taglist @bubblytaetea @psgyu-deactivated20241122 @enhastolemyheart @n1k1mura @flwrior

@fgumi @right-person-wrong-time @karinashairdryer @yeokii @coqhee

@sugarikiz

[authortelevision]

you’re mine₊˚⊹♡

words: 3,002 ✦ .ᐟ

♯┆jealous george clarke, blow jobs, degradation, slut shaming, smut

you confess to george that you used to have a fan account about chrismd but when george finds the account himself you realise how possessive george can be and how much he wants you to know you’re only his

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hello hello !! this could technically be a part 2 to jealous george but you can also read it on its own

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You were sitting cross-legged on George’s bed, leaning against the headboard as he stretched out beside you, scrolling through his phone. His legs brushed against yours occasionally, and though it was casual, the closeness reminded you of how much you loved being his.

“I need to tell you something,” you said, your voice hesitant as you picked at a thread on the hem of your sweater.

George glanced up at you, sensing your unease. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, exactly…” You exhaled, cheeks already heating. “It’s just… okay, you have to promise not to get mad.”

He sat up a little straighter, narrowing his eyes. “That’s not a good start. What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” you said quickly, clutching a pillow to your chest. “It’s just… it’s something kind of embarrassing. About me. And, um… Chris.”

George’s expression shifted instantly, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. “Chris?” he repeated, his voice just a bit cooler. “What about Chris?”

You winced. “So, in 2020, I, um… I had a fan account for him.”

George blinked, clearly trying to process what you’d just said. And then, he laughed. But it wasn’t his usual easy, full laugh. This one sounded slightly forced, like he was trying to play it off.

“A fan account? For Chris?” he asked, his voice rising incredulously.

“Yes!” you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m so embarrassed. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

George didn’t say anything for a moment, and when you peeked up at him, his lips were pressed into a thin line.

“So, what kind of fan account are we talking here?” he asked, a little too casually. “Were you posting thirst traps of him or something?”

“What? No!” you exclaimed, horrified. “It was just, like… appreciation posts! Pictures from his games, funny things he said in his videos, that sort of stuff.”

George let out a short laugh, but there was a tightness in his jaw that you couldn’t miss. “Right. Just a harmless little crush, then?”

“It wasn’t a crush!” you said quickly, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. “It was 2020. I was bored, and Chris just happened to be… entertaining.”

“Entertaining,” George repeated, his tone flat.

You groaned, throwing the pillow at him. “Oh my god, stop making it weird!”

“I’m not the one who made it weird,” he shot back, catching the pillow but holding onto it like he needed something to fidget with. “You’re the one confessing to having a fan account for Chris of all people.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, catching the edge in his voice. “George… are you jealous?”

“Jealous?” he repeated, scoffing. “Of Chris? Don’t be ridiculous.”

But the way he tossed the pillow aside a little too forcefully and crossed his arms said otherwise.

“You are jealous,” you said, a teasing grin breaking across your face despite your embarrassment.

“I’m not jealous,” he insisted, though his gaze flicked away from yours. “It’s just… it’s Chris. The guy who leaves his gym socks all over the flat and takes 45-minute showers. That’s who you thought was worthy of a fan account?”

You laughed, leaning closer to him. “It was years ago, George. I didn’t even know you or him back then.”

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, “if I’d known, I would’ve made sure to stop it.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder. “And how exactly would you have done that?”

His eyes finally met yours, and there was an ounce of something possessive in them. “By making sure you knew there were better options.”

Your breath caught for a moment before you shook your head, laughing softly. “George, it wasn’t that deep. I wasn’t in love with him or anything.”

He huffed, still looking unimpressed. “Good. Because if I have to hear one more time about how Chris is ‘underrated’ or whatever…”

“Oh my god,” you said, groaning dramatically. “I regret telling you this already.”

George’s lips twitched into a smirk, though the jealousy still lingered in his eyes. “You know, I think I should make my own fan account. Post appreciation pictures of myself and see how you like it.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning over to kiss him lightly. “I’d be your biggest fan, George. You know that.”

His smirk softened into a genuine smile as he pulled you closer. “Good. Because I don’t want to compete with Chris for your attention.”

“You’re so weird,” you said, laughing as you settled into his arms.

“And you’re mine,” he murmured, the words warming your cheeks.

Chris might’ve been entertaining once, but sitting there with George, having him kiss all over your face, you couldn’t imagine ever thinking of anyone else. That was until now.

George had been distant all day. Usually, he’d find ways to hover near you, cracking jokes or stealing bites of your food just to make you roll your eyes. But today, he barely said a word. Instead, he spent most of the day holed up in his room or deliberately avoiding you in the flat.

At first, you thought maybe he was just having an off day, everyone had them. But when he brushed past you in the hallway without so much as a glance, it started to feel deliberate.

“George?” you called after him as he walked into his room, shutting the door behind him without a word.

Your patience finally snapped. You marched down the hall, pushed open his door without knocking, and slammed it shut behind you.

“What the hell is your problem?” you demanded, arms crossed as you glared at him.

George was standing by his desk, his back to you, his shoulders stiff. When he finally turned around, there was something sharp in his eyes that made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

“You know what’s the problem?” he said, his voice low but brimming with frustration. “You. You’re the problem.”

You blinked, stunned. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He stepped closer, his jaw tight. “I found it, by the way.”

“Found what?” you asked, your confusion genuine.

“The account,” he said, his voice cold. “Your fan account. The one you swore was harmless.”

You stared at him, your heart sinking. “Wait—how did you—”

“I looked for it,” he snapped, cutting you off. “And you lied to me. All those posts, all those things you wrote about him, how much you wanted him…” His voice cracked slightly, his frustration boiling over. “And you let him flirt with you, knowing you used to feel that way.”

“George,” you said, shaking your head, “what are you talking about? I told you, it wasn’t like that—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he interrupted, his voice louder now. “You wanted to fuck him, didn’t you?” George’s voice was sharp, accusing, the words slicing through the air like a knife.

“Excuse me?” you spoke back, stunned and furious. “That’s not fair, George. I never—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he interrupted again, his tone raising, his frustration spilling over. “You can’t seriously expect me to believe you made all those posts about him, said all those things, and didn’t mean it.”

“It was years ago!” you shouted, your voice shaking with anger. “It was a stupid, meaningless thing I did when I was bored and stuck at home. I wasn’t thinking—”

“Yeah, well, I’m thinking about it now,” he shot back, stepping closer. “Thinking about the way he looks at you, the way you let him flirt with you—”

“I don’t let him do anything!” you cut him off, your face hot with frustration. “Chris was just being Chris. I didn’t take it seriously, and neither should you!”

"Oh, come on," George scoffed, shaking his head, his jaw tight. "You're telling me there's nothing left from that ‘stupid crush’? That part of you doesn't like the attention?"

“George what the fuck is wrong with you?”

He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning your face as he exhales, forcefully biting his lip, enough to leave an indent. “Wrong with me? The only thing wrong with me is the fact I thought a relationship with a slut like you would ever work out.”

Your breath caught in your throat, his words slamming into you like a physical blow. A mix of shock and rage surged through you, your body stiffening as the full weight of what he’d just said sank in.

“What the fuck did you just say?” you fought back, your voice low and trembling, your hands curling into fists at your sides.

George’s jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling as he looked at you, his face hard and unreadable. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to take it back, but then his expression hardened again, his voice cutting.

“You heard me.”

“No.” You took a step forward, your anger blazing. “Say it again, George. I dare you.”

He stayed silent, his lips pressing into a thin line as his gaze flicked away from you, like he couldn’t bear to look at the fury in your eyes.

“You’re unbelievable,” you spat, your voice breaking slightly despite your best efforts. “After everything, after all the times I’ve told you how much I care about you, this is what you think of me?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t,” you snapped, cutting him off. “Don’t you fucking dare say you didn’t mean it. You don’t get to throw a word like that at me and act like it’s nothing.”

George finally looked at you, his eyes filled with something raw and painful that made your stomach twist. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice rough.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, George,” you shot back. “You don’t trust me. You don’t believe me when I say I don’t want Chris. And now you’re calling me a slut? What the hell is wrong with you?”

He raked a hand through his hair, frustration radiating off him in waves. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t fucking know! I just—”

“What?” you demanded, stepping even closer. “You just what? Go on, say it.”

His hands clenched at his sides, his voice rising. “I just hate the way he looks at you! The way he talks to you like he’s got a chance, like I’m not even in the fucking picture!”

You stared at him, your anger warring with confusion. “And that’s my fault? You think I encourage him?”

“I don’t know!” George burst out, his voice breaking. “I don’t know what to think anymore! I just—”

His words faltered as he looked at you, his eyes dark and stormy with emotions he didn’t know how to express.

“You just what?” you whispered, your voice quieter now but no less fierce.

He exhaled shakily, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I just— I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you.”

You opened your mouth to respond, a mix of anger and confusion bubbling to the surface, but before you could even form a sentence, George surged forward. His lips crashed against yours, the force of it silencing any protest you might have had.

You froze for a second, startled by the suddenness of it, your mind spinning. But then his hands cupped your face, holding you in place, and the desperation in the kiss pulled you under.

It wasn’t sweet or careful—it was messy and raw, all teeth and tongue as he kissed you like he was trying to prove something. You hesitated, the weight of your unresolved argument hanging heavy, but then his hands slid to your waist, pulling you against him, and you gave in.

Your fingers fisted in the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back, meeting his intensity with your own. It was chaotic, your breaths mingling as you stumbled together, his body pressing into yours until the edge of the bed hit the backs of your knees.

You fell back onto the mattress, George following without hesitation. His weight pinned you down as his lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then lower, finding the soft curve of your neck. He kissed you there, the sensation sharp and hot.

His hands gripped your waist, sliding under your shirt just enough for his fingers to brush your bare skin. Every touch, every kiss felt frantic, like he was trying to erase the fight, the tension, and every trace of doubt you’d left between you.

“George…” you managed, your voice breaking as you tried to catch your breath, your fingers gripping his shoulders.

But he didn’t stop, didn’t let you finish. His lips pressed harder against your neck, his teeth biting down on your skin in a way that made you gasp.

“Don’t,” he muttered against your neck, his voice thick. “Don’t say anything right now.”

And so you didn’t. Instead, you let him keep going, the messy desperation between you spilling over as he kissed you like he needed you to understand exactly what he felt, whether or not he could find the words to say it.

George pinned your wrists to the sides of your head, his eyes blazing with a primal lust. Your arms landed on the soft sheets, your heart racing as he loomed over you, his body casting a shadow across your trembling form.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice thick with passion. "And I'm going to remind you of that."

With that, he took both your wrists in one hand, using the other to rip your shirt open, buttons flying across the room, exposing your breasts. His hands, rough and calloused, cupped your flesh, squeezing and kneading, causing you to arch your back and moan in pleasure.

"Oh, George..." you panted, your nipples hardening under his touch. "Please..."

He leaned down, his lips capturing one of your nipples, sucking and biting gently. His free hand trailed down your stomach, fingers tracing the outline of your underwear, teasing the damp fabric.

"You're so wet for me," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot on your sensitive breasts. "Tell me, who makes you feel like this?"

"You do," you whispered, your voice scratchy. "Only you, George. No one else can make me feel this way."

His hand slipped into your underwear, his fingers finding your throbbing clit, circling it and pressing down. You bucked against his touch, your hips rising off the bed, seeking more of his touch.

"That's right," he growled, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Only I can make you come like this. Only I can fuck you."

As his fingers worked, you felt your orgasm building quicker than usual, a tidal wave of pleasure threatening to consume you. Your body trembled, and you clutched at the sheets, desperate for release.

"Please, George..." you begged, your voice a mere whisper. "Make me come... I’m only yours."

George's fingers quickened their pace, his thumb pressing against your sensitivity. "Come for me, you little slut. Show me how much you want it."

The pleasure became unbearable, and with a cry, you climaxed, your body shaking every feeling of ecstasy washed over you. George's fingers continued their relentless touches, milking every last drop of pleasure from your quivering body.

As your orgasm subsided, George withdrew his hand, leaving you breathless and worthless. He stood at the edge of the bed, his eyes burning with a possessive gleam.

"Fuck, you really are desperate for someone to fuck you," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Now, get on your knees, and show me how much you’re mine."

You didn't hesitate. You wanted to please him, to submit to his every desire. Slowly, you rose to your knees, your eyes locked on his, a silent promise to make him feel good.

George's cock, already hard and straining against his jeans, made your mouth water in desperation. You reached out, your fingers trembling as you unzipped his fly, eager to set it free. As his length sprang forth, you couldn't help but gasp at the sight.

"Suck it," he commanded, his voice rough. "Show me how much of a slut you are for me."

You leaned forward, your lips parting to take him in. His thick cock filled your mouth, and you moaned around it, the taste and feel of him driving you wild. George's hands gripped your hair, guiding your movements, controlling the pace.

"That's it, babygirl," he grunted, his hips thrusting gently as his tugged at your hair laced around his fingers. "Take it all, take me deep into your throat."

You obeyed, your mouth working faster as his commands spur you on, your tongue licking the slit on the top of his head, tasting his salty pre-cum. His hand moved from your hair to cradle your face in his large hand forcing you to look up at him through your eyelashes.

"You're such a good girl," he growled. "Make me come right down your throat."

You paused for a moment to take him out of your mouth letting his cock rest on your tongue. George's breathing became ragged, and you could feel his cock twitching in your mouth, a sure sign he was close to the edge. You wrapped your mouth around him once more, sucking eagerly as he thrusted aggressively into your wet mouth.

With a final, powerful motion, George came, his hot cum flooding your mouth. You swallowed proudly, savouring the taste of him. He held your head in place, his hips jerking as he emptied himself into your willing mouth.

As he withdrew, you looked up at him, your eyes shining with satisfaction as you licked your bottom lip of the last of him. George's face was that of pure love, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"You look so beautiful," he confessed, his voice husky. "You’re mine, you know that, only mine my love."

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a/n: thank you so much to @arthurhillmastermind for all your help on this fic !!

[twiishaa]

HI CONGRATULATIONS ON 100 🫶🏽 i would loveee to attend the sleepover :p i’m bringing gone girl by gillian flynn and tangled (2010)! we should also have a midnight feast 4 sure 🙌 (with suna pls)

MWAH MWAH CONGRATS AGAIN

! 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 twisha’s 100 followers slumber party ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ - it’s cold, but maybe you’ll warm me up

suna x reader , wc approx 800 warnings i am a pusher of the down bad but nonchalant suna agenda

check out the event!

—

oh how you wish you had brought your jacket today. trying to ignore the people’s stares and whispers as they walked past you, you walked a few steps further from school gates, wiping your tears.

see, the thing was you were supposed to go out on a date with your boyfriend. he had been busy with his club the past week, so when he finally said he was free you got excited and started planning your date. but, once he met you outside the school gates, he said he wanted to break up, and left seconds after, leaving you alone in the cold.

maybe you were getting ahead of yourself; this was your first relationship after all, you even ‘forgot your jacket’ so that he would give you his. but, maybe, the people who said high school romance only lasts so long were correct.

winters in hyōgo were not for the faint of heart. the icy wind hitting your face made you wince, and the cold air made your shallow exhales condense. the cold left you shivering and numb, but left your heart toyed with, and your feelings raw.

—

maybe running would warm you up. after going a fair distance from the school, you sat down on a bench you found. the metal was cold. everything was cold. you brought your knees up to your chest and hugged them, it was your way of giving yourself a hug.

maybe he planned to leave you from the beginning. maybe he was never serious about it like you were. maybe you were the problem, maybe there was something wrong with you. were you too eager? too enthusiastic? too clingy? lost, you could feel tears welling up in your eyes and spilling down your bitterly cold cheeks.

at least your tears were warm.

—

it could’ve been a few minutes or even an hour since you found that bench; you hadn’t kept track of time since you were eagerly waiting your boyfriend (well, now your ex) outside the school gates. suddenly, you felt a jacket wrap around your figure, warmth instantly flowing back into your body.

there was a guy standing in front of you. before you looked up, he said,

“are you purposely trying to get pneumonia or something? you look like ice,” you recognised that voice; it was one you’d heard in your brother’s room so many times before.

why would suna, your brother’s best friend, be here? you lifted your head, your tear-streaked face catching his attention. there was a slight hint of worry in his almond-shaped eyes.

“woah, what happened? did your brother eat your last sweet or something?”

“my boyfriend broke up with me.” you said weakly.

“oh, that rat lookalike?” he questioned, sitting down next to you, warmth in his tone.

that comment made you giggle a little. suna smiled.

“we were supposed to go on a date after like, two weeks and then he just said he was done and left!” you cried.

suna guided your head to the crook of his neck, letting you cry into his shoulder.

you stayed like that for a while.

suna couldn’t lie; he always thought you were cute. in the beginning, he thought it was some kind of brotherly love since he saw you nearly every day, when he went to your brother’s house, but it had evolved into something else, now that you two were in the same high-school.

—

your crying soon subsided, you were just resting your head on suna’s shoulder— his hand was still resting on the nape of your neck. the smell of his cologne was comforting, but at the same time it made you dizzy, the warm notes of vanilla and musk flooding your senses. slowly, you raised your head when you had finally mustered up the courage, looking into his eyes; suna’s heart sped up a little. he wiped a residual tear from your face with his thumb, his hand resting on the side of your face for a little longer than it should’ve.

“don’t waste your tears on him, pretty girl. he doesn’t deserve it.” he got up from the cold bench, now warm.

the side of your face was warm. you ghosted over his touch.

“come on. i know an arcade near here. if i win you a teddy, will you feel better?” he said, pulling you up from the bench.

you blushed a little. getting up after him, and the air didn’t feel nearly as piercing as it did before.

“don’t tell your brother,” suna added, grabbing hold of your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours.

note atlas my love my life this may be my favourite thing i’ve written so far 🩷🩷 this felt like night by alice munro on the igcse edexcel english spec (this is extremely niche im sorry)

[helloalycia]

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 [𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄] — 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

one / two / masterlist / wattpad

summary: when someone asks you out, things get tense between you and Skye and you aren’t sure how to deal with it.

warning/s: the usual warnings that have come with this fic lol.

author's note: and here's the last part! this was a fun one to write, and it's always fun to write for naomi since there aren't many characters of hers i can write for!! (still salty terra nova was cancelled 😭). So yeah, hope you guys like it 🥰

Skye was recording some bits at a studio in the city and we were supposed to hang out after, but I didn't have much else to do and ended up arriving early. As she finished up, I hung around to let her finish, snooping around the building and chatting with some of the staff there.

As I was, I ended up getting caught in some conversation with one of the production assistants, Anna. It was always nice to get to know new people, but I didn't realise it was more than that until she started to flirt with me. Maybe she always was and I was too dumb to notice, but I was awkwardly flattered.

Still, she was interesting and we seemed to get on, getting lost in conversation for about ten minutes. Only when Skye finally finished in the studio and left to find me did the conversation end.

"There you are," she said with a smile when she saw me, before noticing Anna. "Oh, hello."

"You're Skye Riley," Anna noticed with an amazed smile, before glancing at me. "You know, I thought you were playing me when you said she was your friend."

I exhaled with amusement, shaking my head. "Not playing."

She gave me a surprised look before looking to Skye politely. "Sorry, how rude of me. I'm Anna. I work here. Big fan of your music."

"Nice to meet you, Anna," Skye greeted with an easygoing smile.

"You done?" I asked Skye, referring to her work.

"Done," she confirmed.

I nodded, before offering a friendly nod to Anna. "It was great meeting you, Anna. I should go. Skye and I have plans."

Anna nodded. "Of course, yeah, you mentioned..." She paused, hesitating as she glanced shyly at Skye before meeting my gaze. "Did you wanna, maybe, hang out some time?"

I raised an eyebrow, hoping my surprise wasn't too obvious. Skye swallowed awkwardly when she realised what was happening.

"Sorry, I'll give you guys a moment," she mumbled before leaving to wait down the hall.

I didn't know what to think as I looked back to Anna, seeing her waiting hopefully. "I– sure."

Anna breathed out, relieved, as she pulled out her phone. "Great. You wanna put your number in here and I'll text you so you have mine?"

I nodded, body working on autopilot as we exchanged numbers. It wasn't that she wasn't lovely – she really was – but I wasn't used to someone actually outright flirting with me like she had been. Plus, I was always awkward when it came to pretty girls.

"Got it," I said when my phone dinged with a text from her.

"Awesome," she said with a bright smile. "I'm expecting a message," she added jokingly.

"Sure," I said with a nervous smile.

She chuckled before straightening up. "Right, I'll let you go. See you soon, Y/N. Hopefully."

"See you," I said as I watched her leave, still surprised at how someone as pretty as her actually wanted a date with me. And so confidently too.

Shaking my head, I rejoined Skye who was lurking at the end of the hallway, watching the whole encounter as much as she tried to pretend she wasn't.

"Hey," she said when I stopped by her side. "Ready?"

I hummed as I fell onto step with her, the two of us going to the lift.

"So, who was that?" she asked whilst we waited inside. "You got a date?"

I shrugged, still replaying the encounter in my mind. "We just got to talking and I wasn't expecting her to be interested in me, but... yeah. She gave me her number."

Skye nodded, eyebrows raised slightly. "Cool... so are you interested?"

I glanced at her, unsure. "I don't know. I just wasn't expecting it. You know I get talking to people when I'm bored."

She smiled slightly. "Yeah, I do. It's so annoying how social you are sometimes."

I rolled my eyes playfully and continued, "I'm not sure if I'll text her."

She hummed, looking to the lift doors as they opened, and stepped out. Her lack of advice was disorienting me.

"Do you think I should?" I asked, falling back into step with her.

"What?" she asked, glancing over at me with an unreadable expression.

I quirked a brow, wondering if she was even listening. "Text her back?"

She nodded slowly. "Well, do you want to?"

I felt my cheeks grow warm as I looked away, smiling nervously. "I don't know."

"It can't hurt, can it? It might be nice."

I chewed on my lip, pondering her words. I wasn't even sure why I was overthinking it. It was just a date.

"Just take it easy though," she said nonchalantly as we walked out the building and down the street. "You don't wanna lead her on or anything."

"True," I agreed. "Might be worth a shot though. We did get on. The spark was there."

"Just don't get attached," she warned, glancing sideways at me. "You tend to do that."

It took a moment for her words to digest, and when they did, I grew offended. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What? You do," she said lightheartedly, but it did nothing to put me at ease. Probably noticing my expression, she tried to amend her words. "Sorry, what I meant was– you go all in, y'know? I just don't want to see you get hurt."

I blinked, looking ahead. "Wow. Thanks."

"No, I didn't mean it as an insult," she said quickly, hand wrapping around my arm as if to get my attention. "I'm just looking out for you, Y/N."

I didn't know why her words stung, but they did. Was that seriously how she viewed me? As someone who got overly attached?

It made sense, in some way, especially after everything that happened with us. But it still hurt coming from her, probably because deep down I knew she was right. Except, the only person I'd ever gotten attached to was her. My mistake, I was well aware.

Suddenly, she stopped in front of me, facing me with a guilty frown on her lips. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. It wasn't nice of me to say."

I looked down. "Doesn't matter."

"It does," she said firmly, squeezing my arm. "Really. I'm so sorry."

A little embarrassed, the familiarity of the situation creeping in, I shook my head. "It's fine. Let's just go find somewhere to eat."

To my relief, she gave in and we both continued walking to find somewhere. Admittedly, the tension was still present on my side, my feelings stewing with each step. It was disheartening, knowing she thought of me like that, joke or not.

We ate in an awkward silence, and Skye made attempts at conversation but I couldn't force myself to entertain them.

"How's your burger?" she asked, nodding to my plate. "Food here's nice, isn't it?"

I hummed halfheartedly, picking at my fries.

She sighed softly, losing her smile. "Y/N, I didn't mean what I said before."

"It's fine," I told her once more.

Her eyes flickered between mine knowingly. "You're upset."

I merely shrugged, looking down to my plate, only making her sigh again.

"You should go out with her," she said, as if that was what I wanted to hear and would make up for what she'd said. It only made me feel worse.

I ignored her, instead responding, "Let's just talk about something else. How's your tour prep going?"

She frowned slightly, clearing her throat. "Erm, fine, I suppose... Not long left now. I'm just finalising outfits and..."

As she talked a little about it, my previous anger and hurt had long faded into disheartenment. It was frustrating to admit to myself, but Skye's reaction wasn't one I'd hoped for. I wanted her to tell me not to go out with Anna, that she didn't like the idea. And that's when I knew I was delusional.

And definitely not over my best friend.

After paying for our food, Skye and I left the restaurant, awkwardly lingering outside.

"I should go," I spoke before she could. "I've got some work to do."

She nodded, sensing my mood and not saying anything else. I hesitated, noticing the discomfort in her expression, before pulling her in for a hug. It wasnt her fault I was so conflicted – she couldn't have known anything about where my head was at and taking it out on her wasn't fair.

She returned my hug, relieved. "Talk later?"

I nodded as I pulled back, offering her a small smile, hopefully letting her know that I wasn't upset. At least, not at her.

She returned it, grateful, before squeezing my arm gently and letting me go. Meanwhile, I knew I needed to fix whatever was wrong with me before it got worse.

—

I did end up texting Anna back and we'd arranged a date a week later. Part of me thought it could be good to put myself back out there with someone lovely like Anna, but the other part of me also used it as a fast track to get over whatever feelings I had for Skye.

Despite our brief argument, Skye was supportive when I told her, being a typical best friend who wanted to know all the details when she could. I believed that if I played the part hard enough, it would feel real and I'd get over her. But no matter how much I tried, I just couldn't.

The date was great. Not a thing I could fault and yet I still returned home feeling deflated and hollow. Anna was the perfect date and we had a lovely time bowling, but all I could think about was Skye and how much I wanted it to be her. It was awful, from that perspective, and definitely made my scrambled head worse.

As I took a moment to collect myself on the couch as soon as I entered my apartment, my phone rang. Speaking of the devil...

"Hey, Skye," I answered tiredly.

"Is your date done? I wanna know everything!" she said excitedly.

I sighed, massaging my head. "Yes, but–"

"Awesome! I just finished some boring photo shoot and am on my way back, but I thought I may as well stop by yours, that cool?"

I scrunched my face up in disagreement, her face being the last I needed to see right now. "I'm actually kind of tired, Skye."

She laughed, sending shivers down my spine. "Oh, grow up, baby. See you soon!"

Before I could protest, she'd hung up, leaving me to drag out a long groan as I leaned back in irritation. So much for self-deprecating for the rest of the evening. 

By the time I'd gotten into my pyjamas and freshened up, there was a knock at my door. Reluctantly, I went to answer it, seeing Skye on the other side.

Her smile faded when she noticed my expression. "Oh, no, how did it go?"

I turned around, flopping down on the couch, face-first. "Average."

The door closed and she approached the couch. "No wow factor?"

I shook my head as she took a seat beside my head, resting her hand in my hair and stroking it gently which did nothing to help with my racing heart.

"It's okay," she said softly. "At least you tried."

I exhaled into the couch cushion before sitting up, facing her as I leaned against the back.

"What wasn't great?" she asked sympathetically, leaning her elbow on the back cushion and watching me carefully.

I shook my head, unable to hold her gaze and instead focusing on the loose thread from the cushion. "It was fine. Anna was lovely. But I just... yeah."

She hummed in understanding. "Sorry."

All I could do was shrug.

After a moment, she lifted her arm out, extending it. "Come here."

I hesitated, unsure if this was the best next move. But I felt like crap and Skye was my best friend first and foremost. So, I crawled over to her and let her pull me in for a hug against her chest. She stroked my hair again, kissing the top of my head and making me sigh with comfort.

"You wanna talk about it?" she asked, voice mumbled as her lips were still pressed to the top of my head.

I shook my head gently.

"Alright." She continued to stroke my hair soothingly. "Wanna get your mind off it? We could watch a movie."

I swallowed thickly, not in the mood for anything right now.

"Or I can leave and give you some space," she continued, seeming to notice my mood.

As much as I hadn't wanted her here, I now didn't want her to leave. Shaking my head, I sat upright. "No, you can stay. We'll watch something."

She searched my eyes with a hint of concern. "You sure?"

I nodded, rubbing my face with my hands. "Yeah. I just need to pee. Pick a film, I'll be back."

She nodded and I got up to go to the bathroom, using it as a chance to splash some cold water on my face too. I sighed deeply, pushing away my conflicted thoughts for the time being and returning to the couch.

As I took a seat, I noticed some snacks on the table, but the weirdest assortment of them. There were cookies, some carrot sticks, hummus and a bowl of nuts.

"Er... what is this?" I asked Skye with confusion, glancing over at her as she returned from the kitchen with two glasses of juice.

"It's all I could find," she answered, before shooting me a disapproving look. "You really need to go shopping."

I cracked a small smile as she set the glasses on the table and took a seat beside me.

"Hey, there's that smile!" she exclaimed with a satisfactory gun.

I rolled my eyes lightheartedly, stifling my smile, and instead distracted myself with eating some carrot sticks. She grabbed a handful of nuts and got comfortable, pulling her legs up on the couch.

"Thanks," I said softly, gratefully.

"You don't need to thank me," she retorted, glancing at me, but I couldn't look at her without feeling strange.

I leaned back and got comfortable, and Skye started up a film on the TV. It was easy enough to settle in and the film was a well-needed distraction from everything. But naturally, I was falling asleep halfway through it. It didn't help that it was late, I was already pretty tired and Skye was extremely comfortable.

By the time the film ended, I was half out of it, in that weird in between state of awake but asleep. My eyes were closed and I was barely paying attention until Skye sighed from beside me.

"That wasn't that bad, y'know," she decided. "I thought it would be worse given the ratings."

I hummed quietly, acknowledging her words but not really listening.

"You didn't even watch it, did you?"

"I did," I mumbled as convincingly as I could.

She chuckled, her shoulders moving and waking me up in the process. "Liar."

A yawn escaped my lips as I forced myself to sit upright, off her shoulder. She was watching me with amusement.

"Comfy?" she teased.

Too sleepy to care, I answered, "I'd apologise, but it's kind of expected if you let me lay on you."

She laughed wholeheartedly, brightening up the whole night for a moment. "You're lucky I find you comfy too."

I sighed tiredly, sitting on my side and leaning on my elbow, propped up against the back of the couch.

"You feel any better?" she asked, and I looked up at her through my eyelashes.

"A bit," I mumbled. "Thanks."

"Stop thanking me," she said with a soft smile, making me scrunch my face slightly.

"Sorry."

She rolled her eyes playfully, stifling a laugh, and I yawned again as I watched her. It could have been my fatigue-induced state, or the fact that I was hopelessly in love with my best friend, but I couldn't stop admiring how beautiful she looked before me. No makeup, messy hair, sparkling brown eyes, cute smile.

It was wrong of me to stare, wrong of my eyes to trace the arch of her brows, the slope of her nose, the curve of her lips... I'd imagined kissing her many times before, but I'd never wanted to actually do it as much as I did now.

She smiled, oblivious to my daydreams, and mimicked my pose, leaning on her elbow on the back of the couch, way too close to my expression. "Whatcha thinking, huh?" she asked playfully.

My breath hitched as my eyes lowered to her lips, only inches from mine. Time stood still. All it would take is a second, but could I?

No, I couldn't. I couldn't ruin everything because of a silly desire.

Swallowing thickly, I moved back and looked away, acting as nonchalant as I could. "Just tired."

She fell quiet as she sat up straight, and I wondered if she knew what I'd wanted to do. Maybe I'd messed it up anyway. It certainly hadn't helped with my conflicted thoughts.

"I should go," she realised. "You should sleep."

I nodded, unsure what to say, and then I saw her making a move to clear up the snacks on the coffee table.

"it's fine, I'll sort it," I said awkwardly, standing up.

She glanced at me. "You sure?"

I couldn't meet her eyes, too hot with shame. "Yeah."

"Okay," she said softly, before going to the door to pull on her shoes.

I lingered awkwardly until she opened the door, glancing at me briefly.

"Goodnight," she said.

"Night," I muttered.

She left and I closed the door behind her, releasing a deep breath. How had I messed things up so easily? All I could hope was I hadn't made her uncomfortable, but it was impossible. Even staring had overstepped, and it was just like she'd said to me a year ago – it was written all over my face. How utterly embarrassing.

—

That evening haunted me long after, it replaying in my mind over and over like a bad dream. So much that I couldn't bring it in myself to face Skye, not whilst my thoughts were a jumbled mess.

Two weeks passed and I kept our contact to the bare minimum whilst I tried to figure my feelings out. I wasn't sure if I could be her friend anymore, as much as I wanted to be. But it wasn't fair on her if I still had feelings for her.

She messaged me, but I kept my responses vague. My only relief was that she was leaving for her tour in a week, so maybe it would be easier not seeing her as much. Maybe it would've been easier to stop being her friend if I distanced myself long enough.

But it was stupid to think that, not when we'd just reconciled and I thought she wouldn't notice my absence.

I was at my apartment one afternoon when I got an unexpected visit from her. As soon as I opened the door, I raised my brows with surprise.

"Skye? What are you doing here?"

Her eyes met mine sternly. "You're avoiding me."

"What?"

She pushed past me gently to let herself in, leaving me no choice but to close the door after her and spin around.

"At first, I thought you were still upset because of your date with Anna," she started, making me wince, "but then you kept being distance and I just– I don't know what I've done!"

I sighed, feeling stupid for thinking I could get away with it. "You haven't–"

"Don't bullshit me," she snapped, fixing me with a glare. "I'm not stupid."

Her hurt expression forced me to look away, the guilt sinking in.

She took a deep breath before asking in a gentler tone, "What is it? Talk to me."

I tensed my jaw uncomfortably. "Nothing."

"Stop lying," she ordered, before taking my chin and turning my face towards her. Worried eyes found mine. "What is it?"

I pulled back in a knee-jerk reaction, feeling a lump form in my throat. "Don't."

She frowned, confused. "What? Did I do something wrong?"

I sighed deeply, avoiding her gaze. "I can't do this... I'm sorry."

"Do what?"

I swallowed thickly, struggling to find the courage but knowing it needed to be done. "I can't be friends with you anymore."

She paused, taken aback, and her voice broke my heart when she finally spoke. "What? What are you talking about?"

I shook my head, looking down at the floor.

"What?" she repeated, growing impatient, and it only made the whole situation worse.

"I can't..."

"Look at me."

I forced myself to look up, the guilt pressing on my chest when I saw her wounded expression.

"What the hell are you saying?" she asked carefully, searching my gaze. "Is this because of what happened the night of your date? The last time I was here?"

I grimaced at her bluntness, making her tense her jaw. So she'd noticed then.

"It is," she realised.

"You were fucking right, okay?" I spoke abruptly. "A year ago, when we argued and you– you said what you did."

"I was fucking high all the time," she interrupted angrily. "I didn't mean any of it."

"But you did," I retorted, frowning, forcing myself to hold her stare otherwise this was all for nothing. "Deep down, a part of you did and, fuck, it hurt so much because you were right, okay? I– I was fucking in love with you. And I know it was foolish of me, but it was true."

Her eyes widened slightly, stunned, but I couldn't seem to stop now that I'd started.

"It was horrible and it ruined everything and that's why I can't be friends with you. Because I thought I was over it but I'm fucking not, okay? And– and the other night, I didn't mean to make things weird. But my head is a mess and I don't know what to do because all I wanted to do was fucking kiss you, and I know that's wrong, it is. And I'm sorry, but I can't keep being friends with you and put you in this position again. Especially not now."

I was shaking by the time I'd finished, heart racing too fast for me to keep track of. After almost a decade, I'd finally told her the truth. And it didn't feel any more liberating than it should have.

She swallowed hard, looking down with furrowed brows as if trying to digest my admission. I'd been so focused on getting it out of me that I hadn't even had time to anticipate how she could react.

"You were in love with me?" she finally spoke, looking to me with questioning eyes. "You're in love with me?"

I almost scoffed, eyes watering. "Like you didn't know? You said it yourself, Skye..."

She frowned regretfully. "What I said to you that day was awful. It wasn't fair of me. And yes, maybe I did know, but it– I wasn't uncomfortable... I..." She hesitated, before admitting, "I was in love with you too. I just– you deserved better than me. You still do."

I blinked back my tears as I studied her closely, with confusion. There was no way that was true. How could she have thought such a thing?

She stepped forward, slowly lifting her hand to touch my face, gauging my reaction. When I didn't push her away or step back, she cupped my cheek, thumb stroking my cheekbone, and my whole body felt like it was on fire.

"I wanted you to kiss me," she said softly, eyes flickering between mine. "Last time, I– I thought you were going to."

I blinked, taken aback. "What?"

She frowned, looking down momentarily as she said, "I didn't want you to go on that fucking date. But I wasn't going to be selfish and stop you. I just– I care about you a lot, Y/N. You mean the world to me. You always have."

Rendered speechless, I didn't know what to think or say. She'd reacted in a way that I'd never anticipated – never dreamed of – nor thought was possible.

Her dark eyes found mine once more, too close to be anything but a blur of golden flecks.

"I don't want to be friends either," she murmured, before pressing her lips to mine.

My eyes widened with surprise and then she tugged me closer and I instinctively relaxed into her, eyes fluttering close. Her lips were warm and tasted like berries, moving against mine in a perfect rhythm. My hands fell to her hips, goosebumps dancing all over my skin, and I couldn't seem to remember a single thing prior to this.

When we pulled apart for air, every part of my body felt aflame. My lips were tingling and she was still so close, too close for me to find words.

"Maybe things would've been different if I'd been honest in the first place," she spoke softly, breath tickling my lips, only reminding me of the feeling of hers against them.

I didn't know what to say, too stunned by the truth of her feelings.

"I missed you," she admitted, hand lowering from my cheek and to my chest. "It was only two weeks, but I thought I'd ruined everything."

"I'm sorry," I managed to get out, not intending to hurt her.

She shook her head. "Don't be," she assured me, before hugging me tightly.

I let out a quiet breath and wrapped my arms around her, sinking into her embrace. It was still a lot to accept – that she'd loved me too. That she did, even now.

"You haven't said much," she noticed, pulling back with a stifled concern.

"It's just a surprise," I shared, not wanting her to second guess anything. "I really thought... I thought you only ever saw me as a friend. Still trying to process it."

She smiled a little, understanding. "Yeah... I wanted to tell you sooner. Years ago. I almost did. Many times. But everything got bad and it just..." She sighed regretfully. "I didn't want to pull you down with me. That version of me wasn't good enough for you."

I frowned, looking between her eyes. "That's not true."

"It is," she said knowingly. "But it's okay. I want to be better than that girl."

"You are," I said sincerely, taking her hand in mine and squeezing it gently.

Her eyes twinkled as she smiled hopefully. "I hope so. For your sake."

I couldn't help but smile too, touched by how much she cared.

"My tour kicks off at the end of the week, but I'd really like to take you out on a proper date before then," she said, taking my other hand in hers.

"It can wait," I reassured her, "I know it's full on for the next few days–"

"No, no, just one," she cut me off eagerly, squeezing my hands. "Before I have to go and won't see you for ages."

I stifled the urge to laugh. "Okay, but if it's too much, Skye, I can wait until–"

Before I could finish, she leaned forward and kissed me, surprising me for the second time. I was too taken aback to react, and then she pulled away and I felt my cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

"That's got to be my new favourite way of shutting you up," she said with a satisfied grin.

I groaned quietly, flustered, and she laughed at my dismay. I suppose there could have been worse ways.

[jules-ln]

Ok you guys I went to sleep at 1 am and woke up at fucking 5 am to watch arcane so here are my thoughts/review:

After I finished it, first of all, I was mad lmao, then I thought about it for a moment and I started crying, but like ugly crying with sobs and everything because holy shit Jayce and Viktor, then I stopped crying, thought about it a bit more, and I got mad Again lmao

Now spoilers

It was a fucking mess lmao

Like seriously what the fuck fortiche, what the fuck Riot, it was such a fucking mess, it was all over the place, the story was rushed, the characters arcs were rushed, there was a lot of things that felt very forced because they didn't have time to let it happen naturally and I can tell a lot of things that would've been good were left in the inkpot

About Cait and Vi: I truly and honestly couldn't have care less about them lmao

I know I know

But I already fucking knew they were going to end up together that Vi was going to forgive Cait for being a fascist etc etc, for me their arc was already finished and I didn't have time to care about them because I was more worried about what the heck would happen to the other characters and how in hell would they wrap up that mess. If they would've cut all their scenes and gave that time to Mel or something, I would've been so fucking happy

Also, the sex scene annoyed me so much lmao, I was thinking "IF YOU WANTED A SEX SCENE YOU SHOULD'VE ADDED ANOTHER SEASON FORTICHE! WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THAT NOW!" lmao

Mel: I liked the concept of her arc, I like the theory, I can see their vision, what they were going for

But in reality it wasn't fucking that

Like, I like the idea of having Mel realize that she was much more than the daughter of her mother, that she had her own value for who she was instead of simply being the blood in her veins. But boy, it didn't feel at all like she realized that lmao

It just felt like she was "now I'm confident enough about myself to confront my mother because the writers said so" like what? This is what I mean when I say that a lot of things felt forced

Viktor: ok, ok I'm just like *heavy sigh*

To be honest part of why I was mad at first was Viktor's character, I was like "So what? You stop being a humanity loving pacifist to become a fucking control freak who hates free will and emotions just like that?" But then I thought about it, and if you frame his arc through Jayce, it actually made sense, because you see, everything he did was for Jayce. When he came back and went to build his cult, I mean, Commune, he was doing their hextech dream, the thing they always wanted, the thing Jayce always wanted

When Jayce went and rejected him by shooting him in the chest (thanks Jayce) he was hurt, he lashed out and wanted to get rid of all emotions, ironically it was a very emotional reaction. So then as soon as Jayce was back with him, he realized his mistake and stopped

So yeah, it makes sense, the problem is that I shouldn't have to stop and piece together a character motivation like that Fortiche what the hell. I know some people say "let the audience do some work!" But I feel like I'm doing all the fucking work here

What they did was great! Good! But just like Mel, give it more fucking time please

And the machine herald design was a bit ugly lmao, like his design in the game looks better, but thinking about it, and looking at the other robots design and how Viktor dresses in the series. I think it makes sense that this specific Viktor would design something like that

EDIT: Oh! I Also forgot to add:

My favorite scene of him was when Jayce was taking out all of those things one by one and Viktor waited until he was done to push them all back LMAO he didn't need to do that

Jayce:

Jayce, what the hell

Like, I understand why Viktor acted like he did, but like, what was up with you?

I mean, the end implied that he knew all along what was going to happen (machine herald, save Viktor etc), but like, why did he acted so angry at the commune then? He seemed so erratic and Angry like he didn't know what was going to happen, but he knew, and then he switched back to normal but like, what was up with all of what happened before? If anything, why didn't just he let Viktor get to the hexgate peacefully and then talk to him? Idk, it just seems to me like Jayce was the character the most affected by the crossfire of the plot happening because the writers had a very specific ending in mind and no time to get to that ending naturally

Also "hextech is bad" Then proceeds to let everyone keep using it lmao

Ambessa and Singed: of all the characters I think these one were the worst of all lmao

Like the plot completely changed Jayce and forced Mel, but like, these two just were put aside? Lmao

Everyone at Fortiche was like "Fuck Ambessa and Fuck Singed" which is a shame because these two were really interesting

Ekko and Jinx:

I think of all the other characters, these two were the best ones

I didn't feel like their arc was forced, it felt like they were given enough time, but you know why? Because their arc started in season 1, in this season they just finished it

The only thing I will complain about is Isha, because it just feels like they used her and completely discarded her after like a broken toy. Like Silco was waaay better handled than her

Heimmerdinger: I mean, I didn't care much about him lmao, he was only there because the plot needed him, and when he wasn't necessary anymore they got rid of him lmao

But it was less obvious than Isha at least

Viktor and Jayce: now, this is the part that got me fucking crying so much, and this along with Ekko and Jinx are the things that make me feel conflicted about this ending and not hate it as much as I would otherwise

It was all left ambiguous, and the cynical part of me thinks "of course they can't make it any more obvious because then the dude bros who main Viktor and Jayce in LoL are going to cry about how they don't want to play as a man who wants to kiss another man"

But if I take it at face value... Ngl guys, it was good

Like how Jayce chose Viktor after everything he did, how Viktor tried to push Jayce away to protect him but Jayce refused to leave, how all they wanted wasn't progress, or fame or power, but simply be together. And they got to be together in the end

Damn, I'm crying again

I JUST FUCKING WISH EVERYTHING AROUND IT WASN'T A MESS!

And I wanted to add, when everyone in Zaun went to help everyone in Piltover to deal with Ambessa, I wouldn't have done that, fuck them, they put a fucking fascist dictator on power, probably made a lot of people "dissappear" and just like that they are like "Guys, we're sorry, we need your help now :(" fuck that

In the end, it doesn't feel like Fortiche earned this ending. Season 2 should've ended with Arc 2, and Arc 3 should've been a whole season

And I can't give it a rating, because I don't know, I didn't like a lot of it, but there were some parts that I really fucking loved

But if someone asked me if it was worth to give the series a try, I would say yes, but don't get your hopes up for the ending lmao

[wren-galathinyus]

a little late to this game and I can't even give my full notes like the previous two times (I'm at work and can't do the second watch through I do to take note of my thoughts) but I would like to scream regardless, sp here are a few disjointed thoughts and feelings I'm screaming into the void!

as always, spoilers for arcane, the final act, under the cut

-LESBIAN SEX LETS GO WE FUCKINGGGG WOONNNNNNNNNNNNNN 🎉🎉🎉🎉🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

-but on a serious note for that thought, I'm so fucking happy that we got to have this. these two complex, beautiful, awful amazing women who are unapologetically queer and finally get their shit together to realise, the world isn't gonna wait for us, let's have sex, let's enjoy it. the fumble that vi makes with caits fancy belt, the delicate and healing way that cait holds and undresses vi, the full shot of vi's back tattoo, the fact that they can't keep their hands off each other and can't stop smiling! fuck! this was everything to me if you couldn't tell. also so much appreciation to the fact that this scene is an exact parallel to their first meeting!

-yes Mel get it with your sexy golden magic. I can't wait for the spin off series that will come from thus show cus I think it'll explore the black Rose and noxus war and I can't wait to see more of them!

-cait fighting desperate and dirty while still being so smart you have my heart (also cait with an eyepatch, fuccckkkkkkkkkk

-Maddie's betrayal lol, and the thanks for the warmth, bitch what warmth, cait was so mean to you even when you were sleeping together 😂

-the alternate reality???? oughh, oug oww, I need to lie down and cry for a whole week about that. everyone being alive except vi??? that shit hurted. also, domestic and therapised powder was everything I didn't know I needed and I'm so glad that when ekko figured out the anomaly that that timelines ekko came back to her. timebomb so cannon (also adore ekko for this entire act, every single second of it)

-jayvik mutual destruction is so them actually, and I'm glad they were together in the end. also sorcerer older vik had to be my favourite of his character designs. he looks so soft and at peace

-ambessas death is really not something I though we would see, or at least not in the way that it happened. but it's almost bitter-sweet that her death was nesacary for Mel to graduate to wolf in her eyes

-look, heimerdingers sacrifice was cute and heartfelt, but I really didn't have any attachment to the guy and was just glad that ekko made it home. very cute little song though

-Jinx is fucking dead and I hate it. yes it was in character, she did her one last good thing and just wanted to rest, but damn why did it have to be like that , but on the other hand, it leaves open the spot for powder to take hold of the narrative, because don't think I didn't see those hextech gems girl. she is everything to me and I really hope she's apart of whatever story comes next (I'm praying that powder gets to see vi all grown up, and that her older sister is okay, and that vi gets to see powder, the girl she might have been, and also that vi can see her brothers all grown up) (but that's all just wishful thinking)

-btw!! I always had faith in the writers. I love how this season came out on the full. it's absolutely amazing to me how they have managed to create on of if not the highest quality animated TV show ever. it was admittedly rushed, and I would have loved to see all these plot threads tugged at thoroughly before being tied up, but I still think what we got was a masterpiece

-jayce I did not like you in season one but I loved you in season two, and I held out hope that we would see why you did what you did, and it was so fucking perfect I would like to kick all of the jayce haters, just a little in the shins

-back to Jinx, it was genuinely so heartbreaking to see her catatonic over the loss of Isha and I hope they're together again now

-final form (herald) vik was pretty cool I like how it looked compared to his LoL design

-cait and Mel team up was something I didn't know I needed but damn it was good. the gays and girl kissers were eating well this weekend

-the animation of powder and ekko dancing? think I'll just go cry for another week for that alone, and their kiss!!??!? screaming crying

okay that's all I can think of for now. I may post more, I may not. I will absolutely be reposting like crazy though. agree or disagree with me, I want to hear your thoughts!

[rekino2114]

[Me checking tumblr this morning]

Oh hey neat I have 500 followers now

WAIT I HAVE 500 FOLLOWERS NOW?

Genuinely, I never thought this would happen, and to think I started this blog just because I was sick and bored one day.

I cannot express my gratitude for all the support you've shown me. It means so much that you like my stuff and every like,reblog request and follow is very much appreciated and means a lot. Thank you so much. I'll definitely continue writing stuff for you.

And here's to another 500

So I have an announcement now. To celebrate this milestone I'll add two fandoms to the masterlist, one of which I'll let you guys choose(because as a yttd fan there's few things I like more than a good old fashioned majority vote)

The first fandom is gonna be from one of my favorite things to write for:fanganronpas. I've narrowed the choices down to three of them and I wanted to let you choose which one you'd like to see me write for the most

Don't worry I will still add the fangans that don't win the vote later, probably when we get more chapters or I reach more milestones

I'll leave you with some small drabbles/incorrect quotes with the main girls from the fangans you can choose from for today's post.

Thank you so much again for the milestone and hope you have a great day

Cancel(drf:sh)

[You and cancel are making out on the couch in your dorm]

Y/n:usually you're never this affectionate, what's up?

Cancel:What? Can't I show you my love once in a while?

Y/n:awww, you love me?

Cancel:yes, don't I say it enough?

Y/n:definitely not

Cancel:uh, just shut up and kiss me

[You continue making out until enigma walk in the room]

Enigma:Hey cancel have you see-

[She immediately pulls out while blushing intensely]

Cancel:Why are you here? Do you not know how to knock?

Enigma:geez sorry I didn't mean to-

Cancel:you still did, so go away

[He walks out as cancel looks away, still embarrassed]

Y/n:......guess you couldn't predict that

Cancel:[blushing] s-shut up

Akira hayasaka(dr:hd)

R/g/n:Call me, cutie~

[She says while handing you a piece of paper with her number]

Y/n:.....I actually-

[She walks away before you can even finish]

Y/n:[sigh]

[You throw the paper away and approach akira, who's still glaring at the girl]

Akira:what a bitch, she didn't let you finish half your sentences

Y/n:Yeah,you're way better

Akira:Did you really have any doubts~?

Y/n:[giggle] no

Akira:Good.......by the way, do you know what her name is?

Y/n:No, she didn't even tell me that can you believe that? Why do you wanna know anyway?

Akira:..........no reason

Y/n:.....Kira, you're not thinking about killing her....right?

Akira:No,I'm a hitman, not a murderer

Y/n:Oh good

Akira:.....that being said, I wouldn't mind someone putting a hit on her

Y/n:.......

Anko hibana(bdr:cp)

Anko:[gasp] How can you tell such things about me, hiro!? and I thought we were friends, I am not clingy with y/n!

Hiroto:.......

[You suddenly walk into the room]

Y/n:Hey babe do you wanna-

Anko:[gasp]

[She immediately runs to hug you tightly

Anko:Oh,how are you, my sweet and cute pookie

Y/n:....g-good thanks

Anko:I bet it's better now that I'm here riiiiiight~?

Y/n:y-yeah

Anko:[giggle] good answer

[She starts peppering your face in kisses]

Hiroto:You seriously don't see what I mean?

Anko:hm? What were we talking about again?

Hiroto:........

Anko:sorry it's just that y/n takes up all the space in my mind when I see them, in fact, we're going out now

Y/n:w-wait we are?

Anko:so call me if you need me ok hiro?

Hiroto:.......

Anko:I'll take that as a yes

[She grabs your hand and drags you outside]

[sualne]

i used to think he was cool

[maddy-ferguson]

talking to new people again is making me realize that (this is gonna sound dramatic) i haven't lived in five years but what i have done is watch a lot of movies and read a bunch of books and believe it or not that actually makes me an interesting conversationalist in some ways (?)

[dbphantom]

you know if you guys voted for stretch armstrong i probably would have shut up a lot sooner tonight

[valeriehalla]

I am so utterly fascinated by “Saki”, the 18-year-running mahjong manga in which you, the reader, become gradually, frog-boilingly aware (over the course of nearly two decades’ worth of mahjong tournaments) that none of these girls are wearing underwear and most of their boobs are slowly expanding.

I need you to understand that I have, like, an anthropological level fascination with this comic. From the perspective of someone who is also a comic artist and writer, two things delight me about it:

the fact that I understand completely how an artist gets from “the fans can have a little hint of skirted asscheek” to “the pussy is completely out on center page” over the course of 18 years; and

the way in which the pussy being out is treated by the characters and diegesis as being utterly unremarkable.

Okay. Point 1. The frog-boiling.

Let me put this in perspective for you. There was already a meme about how the characters in “Saki” don’t wear underwear when I was in middle school. I am thirty now. Okay? And it’s still going.

In the time since, this has stopped being a joke. It is now indisputable canon. This is not because anyone outright says it at any point. It’s because the underwear ran out of places to hide. I’m obsessed with this thought: somewhere in the over 20 volumes of “Saki”, there is a panel in which underwear was objectively deconfirmed. And it would be so hard to figure out where that panel actually is. Maybe the artist didn’t even realize it when she drew it! The frog? Boiling!!

And of course there is also the breast expansion. I don’t know how to put a spin on this. They are just expanding. Like, this happens a lot with artists: you define a character as being, in your mind, “the one with the big boobs”, and over the years you emphasize that trait further and further so that the signal doesn’t get lost in the noise. It’s just that normally—in like a wildly popular manga series about mahjong published by literally Square Enix, for example—normally there would be a point at which the boobs stopped getting bigger. Like, an editor would step in or something. Or you would get to the point where you cannot draw the character in the same panel as her mahjong tiles without her breasts spilling over the tiles, and you’d go, “Well, this is now untenable.”

That did not happen. There is no ceiling. The frog is soup.

Point 2. The complete and utter mundanity of all of this.

It’s like this, okay: there’s no shortage of trashy ecchi manga out there. There’s a million other comics doing wildly bawdier things with wildly more improbable bishoujos.

The vibe with “Saki” is different.

It’s hard to explain this, but it feels like the world of the comic is fundamentally uninterested in the fanservice happening on the page. I cannot describe it as “leering”, because I cannot conceive of a person in the story from whose point of view one would leer. I think the artist is probably into it—I can’t imagine anyone is making her do this—but “Saki” the comic has no opinion on the matter.

There are essentially no male characters in “Saki”. Like, there was one guy? Kind of? At the very beginning? But he is gone now. They put him back in the toybox. He does not exist. It appears to be some level of canonical that in the world of “Saki”, almost all humans are women. Those women are sometimes romantically into each other. According to comments the artist has made on Twitter (which I cannot source), they have lesbian baby technology, so it’s no problem. It’s so much not a problem that the story is about mahjong, instead of any of that.

So, like, the fiction here appears to be this: this is the, like, meta-narrative of the fanservice of “Saki”, right: it’s just normal that they don’t wear underwear and their boobs are arbitrarily big. It’s been normal. It was normal before the story of the manga began. It’s just how things are. Nobody bats an eye about it, and if they do, it’s in sort of a lesbian kind of way so like what’s the problem, we love lesbians here. This is literally normal for girls.

The fanservice simply diffuses into this all-encompassing aura of disembodied, ambient sluttiness. The framing of the panels demands you acknowledge it, and the story demands you already be over it, because it’s mahjong time now, and we’re playing mahjong.

Do you get??? why I’m so fascinated??? Are you not a little enraptured???

Anyway, I have no idea how to end this weird post. I guess the conclusion is that women stay winning????

[nomairuins]

aww its kinda cute finding me complaining abt my dads whole lisa thing from 2017. honestly so overshadowed by everything else and also i was so annoying when i was 12 aw .

[hecksupremechips]

Starfire teen titans my best friend Starfire id burn alive for you

[fastandcarlos]

On The Mend : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: with your lack of presence in the paddock, fans are starting to worry, little do they know that you happen to be a little broken back at home

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 849,183 others

oscarpiastri: another successful week of racing, super proud of the whole team to get the car all the way to P2 this weekend 🏆🏎️

35,058 comments

username1: congratulations oscar, such an awesome drive!!

username2: just a shame that yn wasn’t there to see it once again 🙄

landonorris: so proud of you osc 😭😭😭

username3: surely they can’t still be together, she hasn’t shown her face in weeks…

charles_leclerc: mum is very proud that the two of us were on the podium btw

oscarpiastri: @/charles_leclerc it was all thanks to her pep talk ofc

username4: we’ll still support you osc even if yn won’t

mclaren: the whole team is so proud of you, congratulations oscar!

username5: enjoy the celebrations, I’m sure the team will be there for you at least 🥲

danielricciardo: congrats brother, always nice to see you repping for down under

username6: either something must be seriously wrong or yn really just doesn’t care anymore 😭

maxverstappen1: hell of a drive from you, great to see you back where you belong!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

ynusername posted two private stories

replies

georgerussell63: thanks for reminding everyone I got a penalty yn 😂😂

oscarpiastri: make sure you’re resting, you don’t need to worry about the race sweetheart!!

ynusername: I’ve never missed a race of yours 😩

danielricciardo: why tf are you in hospital and why didn’t you tell me immediately so that I could help!!

nicolepiastri: sending you lots of love sweetheart, sorry we can’t be there to help you 💕

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

oscarpiastri: I promise to sneak you in loads of snacks as soon as I’m there 💞

lilymhe: I miss you so much, hope you’re recovering well girlie

landonorris: he’s on the first flight outta here straight back to you 🧡

carmenmmundt: sending you all the healing vibes in the world ❤️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, logansargeant and 812,948 others

oscarpiastri: wish me luck on the flight, some weird passenger keeps looking over their shoulder at me 👀

36,950 comments

username7: that poor pilot having to drive these two home lmao

danielricciardo: now you get to experience my struggle before you came along 😭

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo idk how you ever did it 🤦🏻

username8: at least oscar has lando to celebrate with even though others have abandoned him

alex_albon: why else do you think we offered to take you home on our plane instead?! 😂

username9: i wonder if he's going home to yn being there or not

charles_leclerc: you're incredibly brave volunteering to travel home with him 👏🏻

username10: yn should be there with him, i really hope that they're okay

username11: what would we do without these two in our lives!?

maxverstappen1: we tried to talk you out of it but you didn't listen 🤷🏻

username 12: i love how all the boys are exposing lando as a terrible travel partner hahah

landonorris: stop trying to make it sound like we're not bffs osc 💔

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris that's because we're definitely not best friends

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 793,722 others

oscarpiastri: seeing as some people want to make it their business, we thought we’d share why yn hasn’t been around recently. a couple of weeks ago she had a nasty fall at home which resulted in a broken leg. yesterday I finally got to bring her home and begin helping her with recovery…just call me doctor piastri from now on 🧑🏻‍⚕️💞

57,492 comments

username13: i hope all you losers who thought they broke up are proud of yourselves 🙄

landonorris: you guys know where i am if you need anything!!

georgerussel63: we love you yn, make sure you get plenty of rest ❤️❤️❤️

username14: sending you so much love yn, get plenty of rest

ynusername: apologies in advance for the lack of sleep you're about to get because of me 😂

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername as long as you're healing idc 🥹

username15: can't believe some of you were so stupid to ever think they'd actually break up

alex_albon: glad to see you're back at home where you belong yn

danielricciardo: do i even want to ask how she managed to break her leg??

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo if I told you I don't think you'd believe me 😂

username16: poor oscar looks exhausted having to drive and take care of yn too

charles_leclerc: pls tell me I get to sign the cast ✍️

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc i'll save a spot just for you

username17: please make sure you take care of yourself yn and ignore what everyone has to say

carmenmmundt: sending you so many healing vibes yn, we miss you at the paddock

username18: during a time when they need privacy and instead they've been hounded by nosey idiots 🤦🏻

maxverstappen1: can't wait to see all the doctor piastri content from you! 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55 and 682,058 others

oscarpiastri: the only way to get her out of the house atm is to bribe her with coffee ☕️

63,957 comments

username19: it's adorable how much oscar cares about her 🥰

lilymhe: tell her im omw with coffee as we speak to get her out again!

username20: it's so good to see yn back up on her feet and moving around again 🤩

alex_albon: i actually forgot what yn looked like stood upright for a moment

username21: why does it feel like oscar is one of those partners who is constantly checking on her making sure she's doing her exercises and following every single bit of advice

maxverstappen1: yn's injury is really making you look like the doting boyfriend rn ❤️

danielricciardo: if yn ever gets bored of being entertained on a walk by you, you know where i am!

username22: i bet yn can't wait for race weekend again to get rid of the nagging doctor 😂

landonorris: wish you looked after me as well as you look after yn

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris just a shame that we're not dating then really huh?!

username23: anyone else noticed how many drivers have been round this week to take yn out and make sure she's staying active too

username24: @/username23 i think she might just be the most popular wag on the grid

ynusername: i hate you but i love you at the same time these days 💞

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername if the doctor says you keep moving, it's my job to make you move 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, carmenmmundt and 59,491 others

ynusername: I always knew oscar was secretly boyfriend coded but damn having him look after me is making me fancy him all over again 🔥

12,056 comments

username25: i think i might've just fallen in love with him all over again too 😍

alexandrasaintmleux: make the most of all of the attention you're getting girl

ynusername: @/alexandrasaintmleux oh I am, he doesn't let me lift a finger 😘

username26: soft, doctor boyfriend oscar might just be my new favourite thing

charles_leclerc: if i see many more of these posts from you i might just need a sick bucket 🤮

username27: yn you really are the luckiest having this guy in your life

carlossainz55: i always knew he was a softie deep down 🥺

oscarpiastri: you know i'd do anything as long as it meant getting you better again

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri you're an angel in disguise i swear

username28: i'd break my leg too if it meant oscar piastri was there to look after me 😂

username29: it melts my heart to see how caring oscar has been over the past few weeks

danielricciardo: even i found myself getting a bit excited when i saw these photos yn

username30: everyone needs an oscar piastri in their life

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

ynusername posted two stories

replies

landonorris: you're ruining oscar's image with every post you share these days 😂

oscarpiastri: there's nowhere else that I'd rather be

ynusername: we'll pretend you didn't complain that it wasn't race weekend first thing this morning shall we???

carmenmmundt: hope it's good news, lemme know how you get on!!

alex_albon: praying for you and hoping that it's the beginning of the end now 💕

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

danielricciardo: thinking of you guys, tell the doctor if he doesn't give you good news i'll break his leg 💞

ynusername: something tells me you might find a few challenges in doing that hahah

georgerussell63: you're so strong yn, just remember we love you

charles_leclerc: the whole family is hoping for good news for you and oscar ❤️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 70,238 others

ynusername: the moment i've waited for for so long, back in my second home of the garage and back supporting my love during race weekend

14,592 comments

username31: make sure you keep taking care of yourself yn!! 💕

oscarpiastri: cannot begin to tell you how happy i am to have you back with me again ☺️

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri the best feeling in the world being able to cheer you on again

danielricciardo: ik just how much this means to you, welcome back to us yn

username32: it's so good to see you right back where you belong again

username33: it feels like you've never been away, I'm so happy for you guys 🥹

charles_leclerc: on the mend at last, i hope you know just how many people can't wait to welcome you back this weekend

username34: we love our favourite #81 fan 🧡

iamrebeccad: i am hurrying over to that mclaren garage as fast as i possibly can rn ‼️

username35: so happy to see you back on your feet and back with our favourite duo again

username36: this is the content we've been waiting for, it's so good to see you back

landonorris: as much as i hate having to share oscar again, it's a joy to have you back 🙃

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[theragethatisdesire]

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

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

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

pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader

wc: 9.1k

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

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

have fun ;)

-

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

“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sasha–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He spits directly in Eren’s face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”

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

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

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

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

“What the hell was that, Eren?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

“You’re my–”

“The other thing.”

“I needed you.”

“Again.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you still?”

“Still?”

“Need me.”

You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”

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

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

“I still need you. Now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eren chuckles. “You need something?”

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

“You want me to stop fucking with you?”

“Please, Eren, I need you–”

“That’s all you had to say.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I need– fuck– I need more.”

“Magic word?”

“Please, Eren, fuck!”

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

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

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

“Close?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s not my-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe he wants to apologize.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I just–”

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

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

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

Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”

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

“You might have me there.”

“Better than horseface?”

“Watch it.”

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

“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.

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

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

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

[elliewithcellie]

Girl, Interrupted

summary: Eddie crashes by your home when you least expected, but everything happens for a reason, right?

wc: 1.8k

cw: PURE SMUT (MDNI 18+), basically no plot, friends to fwb?, oral (f receiving), Eddie is a tease, fairly bold reader lol, fingering, talk of p in v sex, hair pulling, orgasms idk let me know what else

a/n: my bestie bought me slutty pajamas for my birthday, and since I'm a hypothetical whore, this has been on my mind nonstop. Finally took a break from my spn series to write this down. This is the filthiest thing I've written to date but definitely short and sweet

Eddie’s jaw fell slack as the door opened before him. He knew he shouldn’t have shown up to your place uninvited. Sure, you were his best friend, and of course, you had said he could come over whenever, but that never truly meant unannounced. He was already kicking himself for showing up as late as he did when you opened the door.

Your oh so short pajama shorts were the first thing that caught his eye, how your thighs spilled out beneath them, the cotton begging for relief. His eyes trailed higher to your tank top one size too small. The hem rested just above your midriff, the outline of your hips more prominent than he had ever seen. Your face was flush, pinks and reds lining your cheeks. He fought the urge to pinch himself, scared that he was dreaming, scared that he’d wake up to the absence of you and very real feelings emerging.

“Eddie? What are you doing here?” you asked, your arms crossing over your chest. “I thought you had a date.”

Date, what date? Eddie’s mind was going numb. His brain was flatlining at the mere sight of you, more exposed to him than he’d ever seen you. Fight or flight kicked in, debating on whether to say something or just turn around and leave. He was almost sure he was not supposed to see you in this state.

“I—uhh—it didn’t go well, so I cut it short. But I know you love the place, so I figured I’d bring over the leftovers.”

“Oh, sweet. Thank you.”

Eddie hesitated, scared to ask, but his interest piqued. “Is someone—you’re alone right now, right?”

Your eyebrows pinched together. You exhaled a dry laugh. “Please, I’m always alone. Come in. Tell me about your date.”

You ushered Eddie inside and settled into your couch. You pulled a blanket over you, and Eddie released a sigh. He couldn’t believe the hold you suddenly had on him. It was like he was in high school again, ready to combust at the sight of a shoulder. At least with your legs covered, he was less inclined to think about spreading them.

“Was it really that bad?” you asked, drawing Eddie from his thoughts.

“She was just so boring,” Eddie complained. “Like, there’s nothing wrong with her, but it was like we were from different planets! She didn’t know Metallica! How am I supposed to bond with someone when there’s nothing to relate to?”

“Did you think of showing her?”

“Showing her what?”

“Metallica!” you laughed. “Wouldn’t that be kind of romantic, you know, to introduce that to her? Maybe tell her you’re in a band? It’d be like showing her a whole new world. And maybe you’d get a groupie out of it.”

Eddie swatted at the air. “It’s not worth it. We were both bored. And it was clear she wasn’t looking to rock with a guitarist.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that.”

“You didn’t meet her. She’s pristine, a Chrissy Cunningham type. Meant to be with a lawyer or some shit.”

You leaned in closer to Eddie, your blanket sliding down your thighs. “Those are the girls who fantasize about guys like you the most. Those girls on the straight and narrow, the ones who seemed destined to be sweet stay-at-home moms or perfect career women, those are the ones who dream of just one night doing something they never thought they could. Something so wild that when they’re taking their kids to soccer practice, or their ‘perfect husband’ is asleep on the recliner while they're doing the dishes, they can think back to that wild night when they fucked a rockstar.”

Eddie’s lip trembled as chills coursed through his body. You leaned back against the couch and shrugged like what you said was nothing. You had to be on something, he decided. Never had you been so frank when the topic of sex came up. Your face was still flushed with color, and you couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position on the couch, shifting yourself from one side to the other to no specific rhythm. Heat radiated off of you, though you weren’t known to be the furnace between the two of you. Something struck Eddie as so foreign but so familiar as he took you in.

“Would you fuck a rockstar?” Eddie found himself saying.

Heat rose to your cheeks. “Do I seem like one of those straight-and-narrow girls to you?”

“That’s not what I asked,” Eddie said, a newfound confidence overtaking him. “You came up with that way too fast to act like you don’t think of it, too. So, would you fuck a rockstar?”

You bit your lip and shifted in your seat. You huffed into the couch. “Wouldn’t anyone?”

“Why so shy all of a sudden?” Eddie asked, egging you on. “You’ve been squirming since I got here, sweetheart. Is something on your mind?”

Your eyes trailed from his eyes to his lips, then back to his eyes. “Tonight is not the night to ask me that.”

“Why is that?” Eddie chuckled. “Were you in the middle of something? Was something left unfinished when I so rudely interrupted? And now all you can think about is the ache between your legs?”

You shuddered at his words. “Eddie,” you said, your voice shaking.

“I could help you.” Eddie leaned closer, his words almost a whisper. “Because I may not be a rockstar, but I’m sure I could give you the night of your life.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Don’t tease me. It’s not funny.”

“No one’s laughing.” Eddie pulled the blanket back, his hands resting on your thighs. Your legs slightly opened on instinct. “What kind of friend would I be, huh? If I didn’t at least offer?”

Eddie didn’t know where this bravado came from, but he didn’t care. All he knew was the longer you looked at him like that, the harder he got.

You grabbed him by his shirt and forced his lips on yours. Nothing soft or sweet came from your lips. You were needy and desperate, clinging to him like he was the air in your lungs.

The urgency shocked Eddie, but he quickly found your rhythm. He smirked against your lips as he pulled his jacket off. His hands snaked from your thighs to your hips to your ass, lifting you onto his lap. You groaned into his mouth as he rolled you against him.

He was sure he was dreaming now. Only there did he ever picture you above him, grinding your hips into his. Only there did he imagine you moaning from his touch. But never were his dreams this vivid, this real, this fucking good.

He pulled you from him and pushed you back onto the couch. You whined at the loss of contact. He’d never seen your eyes so dark, so lustful, so hungry for him.

He slid down to the floor onto his knees and pulled you to the edge of the couch. “You still want my help, sweetheart?”

You nodded emphatically.

“I need to hear you, baby. Say it.”

“Please help me, Eddie. I need you. Please.”

“Atta girl.”

You lifted yourself up as Eddie pulled your shorts down your legs. Eddie’s cock jumped at the sight of you. He bit his lip to maintain what little composure he had left.

“Aww, your poor little pussy’s just as needy as you, isn’t she?” He spread your knees apart, the cold metal on his fingers sending chills up your spine. The throbbing between your legs only intensified, a small whimper escaping your lips.

Eddie couldn’t wait any longer. There was no time for teasing, no time to explore. You needed him, and he was going to deliver.

He dove into your aching pussy like a man starved. You jumped at the contact, your hands flying to his hair. His tongue worked overtime, kitten-licking your clit before diving in for more.

“You taste so good, sweetheart,” he said, smiling against you. You moaned in response, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling him closer.

Your sounds turned him on even more, searching for his own release as he rubbed himself against the couch. His mind was in a daze, in utter disbelief that anyone could look so perfect for him with your legs spread and your back arched. Your chest rose and fell to the rhythm of his tongue, and your lips formed a perfect ‘o’. Oh, how Eddie wanted to feel your lips around his cock. How you’d sink down on him, your perfect innocent mouth being completely sinful just for him.

He placed a finger at your entrance and pumped in and out, his thumb now circling your clit. Your head fell back. “God, yes, Eddie. Just like that.”

“I need you to do something for me, baby,” Eddie said as he added a second finger.

“Wha—what’s that?” you asked, breathless.

“I need you to tell me what you think of when you get off. Tell me what you were thinking of before I showed up at your door.”

“I—I oh god,” you shouted as Eddie’s lips found your clit. “I—I thought about you on your fucking date.”

“Oh fuck,” Eddie groaned into your pussy, the vibrations shooting up your spine.

“I pictured you fucking her from behind, her skirt hiked up to her hips, her panties to the side as you fucked her in front of the bathroom mirror.”

“Fucking C—Christ,” Eddie stuttered, his hips rutting into the couch faster. “Keep going.”

“Then it was me you were fucking. You grabbed me by the hair, so I could watch what you were doing to me,” you said, your voice shaking with every word. “Eddie, please. I’m close. Please.”

“Come on, baby. You can do it. Tell me what I was doing to you.” He was past dreaming at this point. He was sure this was heaven. Hearing your words had him reeling. He didn’t want to stop, didn't know how to stop. He just knew he needed to see you come.

Your lip trembled. “Your hands were all over me, playing with my tits, your lips on my neck, and—and your big cock pounding into me over and oh-ver and—and Fuck! Eddie, don’t stop! Please, please, please!”

Your orgasm crashed down on you, expletives and Eddie’s name on your lips. Eddie continued to pump his fingers in and out of you like a madman as he lapped up your cum.

“Oh god, oh fuck!” he moaned against you.

You pushed his head off of you and caught your breath. Eddie took a breath, too, leaning back against his heels. You pulled him back up to you and kissed him, tasting yourself on your lips.

“That… was so hot,” Eddie said, releasing a breath.

“Can it be my turn to help you?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Eddie’s cheeks rouged slightly, his eyes trailing to the growing wet spot on his jeans. “I had a turn already,” he said, guilt painting his words. He leaned in toward you, a devilish smirk joining his features. “But I’m not done with you. Not yet.”