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#i’m usually such a silver girl
deklo · 1 year
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slowly trying to get more gold jewelry and it’s come to my attention. that gold jewelry is very expensive :/
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scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!
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hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!
beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol
pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader
wc: 9.1k
DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.
CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)
have fun ;)
-
This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.
“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”
“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.
“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”
“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.
“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”
“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”
You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”
“Fine!”
“Fine?”
“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”
He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.
You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.
You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.
It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.
Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.
When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”
“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.
You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”
“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”
You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”
If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.
As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”
“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.
“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.
“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.
“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.
Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.
“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”
“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.
“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”
You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–
“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.
“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”
“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.
“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”
You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.
“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.
The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.
“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.
“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”
The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.
“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.
“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.
Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.
“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”
One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”
Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”
Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”
Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.
“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”
“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.
Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.
You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.
“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.
“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”
“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”
“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”
Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”
“Sasha–”
“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”
“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”
“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.
You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.
Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.
You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?
He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.
“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.
“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.
His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–
Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.
The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.
“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.
“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.
Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.
“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.
“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”
“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.
Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.
“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”
“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.
A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”
“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”
Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”
“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”
“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.
“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”
“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.
A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.
Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.
“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”
“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”
“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.
He spits directly in Eren’s face.
Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.
“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.
“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.
“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”
You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.
“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.
“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.
He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.
Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.
Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.
“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”
“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.
“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”
No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”
You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.
“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.
Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.
“What the hell was that, Eren?”
He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.
“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”
“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.
“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”
“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.
Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”
“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.
Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”
“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”
Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”
“You’re my–”
“The other thing.”
“I needed you.”
“Again.”
“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”
He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”
“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.
“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”
Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.
“Do you still?”
“Still?”
“Need me.”
You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”
“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”
You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.
“I still need you. Now.”
Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.
“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”
A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.
His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”
You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”
Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.
Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.
Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.
“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.
“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.” 
Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.
“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”
Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin. 
“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”
“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.
“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”
A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.
“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”
“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.
“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”
Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.
He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.
Eren chuckles. “You need something?”
“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.
“You want me to stop fucking with you?”
“Please, Eren, I need you–”
“That’s all you had to say.”
And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.
Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.
“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.
“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.
“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.
“I need– fuck– I need more.”
“Magic word?”
“Please, Eren, fuck!”
“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”
Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.
“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it. 
“Close?”
“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”
“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”
Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–
“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”
The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.
“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”
He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch. 
“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”
Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”
You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”
You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”
Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.
Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.
“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”
“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”
You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.
“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”
“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.
“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”
You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.
And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.
“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”
You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.
“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”
“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”
“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.
Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.
You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.
“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”
You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.
Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.
You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.
“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”
“He’s not my-”
“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.
You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”
Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.
“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”
You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.
“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”
“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”
“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.
“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”
You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.
“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”
“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.
“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”
You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”
He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.
It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.
“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.
“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”
That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”
“Maybe he wants to apologize.”
Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”
“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.
Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.
“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”
There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.
“I just–”
“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”
You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”
“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”
Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”
“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.
“You might have me there.”
“Better than horseface?”
“Watch it.”
The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”
“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.
“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”
“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.
He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”
17K notes · View notes
ham1lton · 2 months
Text
GOOD LUCK, BABE!
pairings: charles leclerc x reader (romantic/platonic).
summary: friendships don’t always survive, you and charles would know.
warnings: cheating towards the end. no smut but a makeout session. sorry alex 💔
author’s note: the brocedes au that me and anon wanted. i’m trying something new btw. let me know how u feel about it.
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you never imagined yourself in the same room as charles. not willingly anyways. yet, when you received the invitation with his handwritten note asking you to come. you knew you couldn’t say no. you had spent so much of your childhood discussing the future. he wanted a family. three kids, a dog and a gorgeous wife that loved him. you wanted a career. the glory, the accolades and the fans that loved you.
he made you promise one day that you’d be at his wedding. you were fifteen at the ice cream shop that he’d always drag you too. you had snuck out without arthur in order to have an extra scoop after charles’ dad had paid for the ice cream you’d had earlier. he looked over at you, eyes serious and asked you to be his best man — (“best woman, best girl. it doesn’t matter. i just want you next to me. i’m serious yn.” he took a lick of his ice cream and the seriousness melted away when he left a smudge on his nose.)
you didn’t break promises easily.
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however, when arthur came running up to you, asking you to follow him. when your relationship with charles disintegrated, you never lost touch with arthur. he was like a little brother to you. you would very rarely meet him for brunch in whatever city you happened to both be in. so when he asked you to follow him, you did willingly.
“where are we going?” you ask, as he pulls you along by your right hand. “usually, whenever you don’t give me context it means you’re doing something bad. is this something bad leclerc?”
“when am i ever doing something bad?” he looks over his shoulder and gives you a wink. you roll your eyes. he plants you in front of a room and nods at it. you stare at him blankly.
“okay? i’m not a mind reader arthur.”
“i need you to help me look for something.” he nods at the room. “in there.”
“you can do it yourself.” you turn to leave before he runs in front of you and stops you.
“listen. i don’t care if you had that weird breakup with my brother,” you start to protest that it wasn’t a breakup but he stops you. “but you didn’t need to cut me off too. you were a part of my life too. you abandoned me too.”
“i don’t ask you for anything yn but i need your help. i’m looking for my silver cufflinks. i need them.” he raised his cuffs to show you the distinct lack of cufflinks. “please. i’m begging you. i wouldn’t ask otherwise.”
you didn’t expect to come here to be blackmailed and guilt tripped but it was working. you avoided everything leclerc. even his family, especially his family if you were being honest. they went from being your second family to nothing at all.
“okay.” you nod. “i’ll get your cufflinks.”
arthur smiles and opens the door for you to walk in. it’s someone’s hotel room. either arthur’s or a friend’s. it’s messy and you sigh. it’ll be hard finding them in this mess but you start carding through clothes.
“yn?”
you know that voice anywhere. you turn around and it’s charles. he’s half dressed in his wedding suit, his crisp white shirt half unbuttoned. his hair is still messy as if he’s ran his hand through nervously multiple times. you smile with no teeth and move to open the door. it’s locked.
“arthur leclerc! open this fucking door!” you seethe. you bang against the door and hear his voice through the material.
“not until you fucking talk! i’ll be back in half an hour.” you hear his footsteps walk away. you turn to charles who smiles sheepishly at you.
“tea?”
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liked by messyass1, messyass2 and 1,737,883 others.
ham1ltonshaderoom: it seems all the rumours are true. sworn enemies f1 drivers charles leclerc and yn yln have seemed to call a truce to celebrate his wedding to art historian alexandra saint mleux. she was seen wearing a dark green vivienne westwood gown as she celebrated the couple’s nuptials.
what do we think about the rekindling of this flame, ham1ltons?
view all 679,498 comments
user1: CHARLESYN IN THE SAME ROOM NO ARGUING NO FIGHTS WE CHEERED!!
user2: i wish we had pictures of her. she always eats her outfits.
-> user3: wtf how does she digest them?
-> user2: figure of speech babe <3
user4: did she have a date??
-> user5: her longtime boyfriend!!
user6: they worked it out on the remix
-> user7: so FERRARI ❤️
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charles makes you the tea. he doesn’t finish buttoning his shirt as he pours it into a mug for you. he remembered how you liked it - two sugars and a splash of milk. you stay silent but nod gratefully.
it’s been so long since you’ve been alone with him. you’re not the same wide eyed kid but neither is he. he’s getting married and you’re giving him the silent treatment. he sits on the edge of his bed awkwardly. tapping his thigh with a single finger.
“thank you for coming,” he says. “i didn’t think you would.”
“the handwritten invitation was a nice choice,” you sip your tea. “personal. did everyone else like it?”
“only yours was,” he coughs into his elbow. “handwritten. i mean. only yours.”
that’s news to you but you don’t have time to ponder what that means before he speaks again.
“i’ve thought for the longest time on what i’d say to you if i got the chance. everything. how sorry i was, how sorry i am, how much i hated you and how much you meant to me. you were my best friend yn. my best friend. no one has even come close to what you were for me.” he chuckles as he presses his palms into his eyes. “who else could i talk to besides you?”
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(insert a tiktok edit of the two of you throughout your careers. the song playing over it is the song ‘chemtrails over the country club’ by lana del ray specifically the lyrics ‘nobody’s son/nobody’s daughter’. it gets 167k likes.)
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“do you still hate me?” charles looks at you under his lashes.
“of course i do. you hurt me.”
“you hurt me. but i don’t hate you.” charles fidgets in his seat. he stretches his hands to place them on his knees. you sip your tea. “do you remember when i asked you to be my best woman?”
you nod.
“i didn’t mean that. i wanted you to be my wife.”
you would choke on your tea if you didn’t know that information but charles wasn’t subtle. yet it was a case of missed opportunities. you didn’t like him then and he didn’t like you now.
“i couldn’t hate you yn. god knows i tried. it hurts me knowing that you hate me as i could never hate you. i said all that shit because i was hurt and angry. you said i was a shitty driver. that is wouldn’t have won without ferrari’s strategies which we both know are shit-“
“i’m sorry, i didn’t know you still cared about my opinion.” you interrupt. your voice still has a defensive edge to it. he just shrugs.
“i’ll always care about your opinion.”
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CHARLESYNNIES TWITTER GC (est.2017)
user1: editing yn to l’amour de ma vie by billie eilish (extended version) rn 😋
user2: what part?
user1: listen from 2:15 till 2:56!!
user3: THATS GONNA EATT OMGGGG
user4: wish we could edit the wedding appearance of the two of them omggg.
user5: when i get off my lazy ass and finish my edit of them to ‘the girl so confusing’ remix
user6: do y’all think they’re talking at the wedding?
user7: babe do you know yn? she’s probably at the very corner of the reception right now. she’ll take a pic with every other leclerc besides charles and probably leave before dinner is served.
user8: you’re so real. yn would NEVER talk to charles let alone be alone with him. i hate it but it’s the truth.
user9: plus charles is probably busy with the wedding.
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you never considered yourself to be a bad person but making out with your ex best friend/teammate literally a few hours before he’s about to get married? that’s a bitch move.
you try to think about his fiancée. she’s probably getting ready excitedly with her family and friends. thinking about being the future mrs leclerc while you’re two minutes away from committing adultery on both of your partners.
you pull apart from charles. he looks at you with wide eyes.
“we can’t fucking do this. we’re awful people,” you sit up. “my fucking lipgloss is all over your mouth.”
“i look good in pink. it’ll be fine.” he wipes it off.
“you have a fiancée. you’re getting married.”
“tell me the word and i’ll call it off. just for you.” he looks at you. “i’m quitting f1 after this year anyways. i’m not attempting to go for the second championship. i don’t want it.”
“how do you not want it?”
“we have different priorities but i won’t be a f1 driver anymore. you always said you couldn’t date a driver. i’ve grown now. i’m fine being in your shadow. i love it. i want it.”
he looks at you as serious as he did when he asked you to be his best woman all those years ago.
“what do you want yn?”
you bite your lip, and think.
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CHARLESYNNIES TWITTER GC (est.2017)
user7: i’m hoping we get at least a picture. just one.
user4: i would DIE!!! imagine!!!
user3: charlesynnies suffer every day and everyone else wins.
user2: i think yn is right there with charles. maybe dancing.
user1: he always said she’d be at his wedding. he was right. i think there is still love there.
user5: FINISHED MY FUCK ASS EDIT PLEASE LIKE AND COMMENT ON TIKTOK BESTIES
user6: okay i wrote a little fic for ao3. it’s called ‘wait until you like me again’!! it’s domestic charlesyn as they are forced to work everything out. kinda angsty but really smutty.
user1: spamming u both charlesynnies are the best idc <3
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charles_leclerc: say hello to mr and mrs leclerc 💍
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yourusername: happy for you 💕
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INTERVIEW WITH CHARLES LECLERC
interviewer — so is it true? you’re renewing your ferrari contract?
charles (laughing) — it is true. racing is my life. this is it for me. it’d take something big to take me away from it.
interviewer: you all heard it here first!
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— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @aliciaablueprint @lennnooshh @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @theblueblub @marshmummy @23victoria @ourlifeforchaos @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @tsireyasgf @landososcar @yongi-lee @maxlarens @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi @evans-dejong @nixisracing @lethalvenus @santanasaintmendes @idontknowlmaoo @sainzluvrr (charles specific tags will be added to the comments!)
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1K notes · View notes
7s3ven · 9 months
Text
ONE CUP OF COFFEE. theodore nott
( master list )
IN WHICH… Theodore Nott can’t stand the idea of actually falling in love but he finds himself questioning his choices after a series of rather comforting conversation with a Hufflepuff.
“Do you hate me so much that you can’t stand having one coffee with me?”
Warnings: Smoking, mentioning of throwing up, mentioning of weed, swearing here and there, mentioning of hooking (pretty tame for a Theodore Nott fic tbh)
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“One coffee. Black. No milk or sugar. Make it hotter than usual.” Theodore Nott wasted no time in repeating his order to the worker behind the counter. A new coffee shop had opened inside of Hogsmeade and in the Slytherin’s opinion, their drinks were better than any muggle one.
He tossed a few golden coins onto the table before walking away and taking a seat in a deserted corner. He liked to be away from people because despite being part of a popular Slytherin group and partying often, he wasn’t a social person.
The quiet lulling of muggle songs played around in the cafe, bouncing off the walls. Theodore pulled his turtle neck up higher, covering his bare skin from the cold air. It nipped at his slim fingers and he wished he had taken a pair of Draco’s Dior gloves now.
The rusted bell attached to the door dully rang as someone else entered. The cafe wasn’t too crowded. There were a few other students scattered here and there but not many people were willing to freeze just to grab a coffee.
Melted snow dripped off Theodore’s boots as his observant eyes followed the actions of the newcomer. He couldn’t tell what house she was in because she was wearing all white, but she definitely wasn’t a Slytherin. The girls clad in green and silver had a certain aura; an unfriendly, poisonous, and addictive one.
This girl radiated off sunshine and daffodils and basking in the warmth of a crackling fire. Theodore guessed she was in Hufflepuff because she had a certain charm to her bright smile.
“One cinnamon chai latte.” She ordered, kindly handing the cashier a few coins. She was practically the opposite of Theodore.
“Name?” The cashier asked, much comfortable in her presence as opposed to the Slytherin who sat a few feet away.
“Y/N.”
Her name jogged Theodore’s memory. She was the girl Lorenzo had been paired with in herbology. It was quite a long and dragged out assignment so whenever Lorenzo wasn’t hanging out with his friends, he was with her.
Theodore subconsciously sat up straighter and leaned forward to get a better look at Y/N. Lorenzo described her as a pretty and bright girl with a warm perspective on life. Instead of saying “what’s the worst that could happen?” She always said “what’s the best that could happen?”
Theodore was somewhat impressed by how positive a person could be.
He didn’t notice he had been staring until Y/N turned her head, innocent E/C eyes burning holes into his. Theodore almost jumped. He quickly adverted his gaze, clenching his jaw.
Out of the corner of his vision, he could see Y/N sit at the table beside him. She sat with her legs oddly crossed and her body was turned so she could look at him.
“Theodore Nott, right? Enzo’s friend?” Her voice was gentle, like a meadow full of daisies and glittering ponds of water.
Theodore thickly swallowed before he nodded. “Yeah. Lo’s talked about you. You were his partner for potions.” The brunette had never heard anybody call Lorenzo by Y/N’s nickname, but maybe that was because he didn’t allow anybody to call him that. Unless it was Y/N, of course.
The poor boy was smitten with her during fifth year but he shyly backed off when he realised he had too much competition. To this day, Draco was still trying to convince him to man up.
“He talked about me?”
“Only once or twice.” Theodore lied through his teeth. He may be a tease, but he refused to out his friend.
“The assignment we did was so annoying. I’m glad I had him as my partner. If it was anybody else, I would’ve gone mad.” Y/N signed and a small laugh slipped past her pink-tinted lips.
“You practically saved his herbology grades. Lo is smart but his plant knowledge is in the negatives.” Theodore huffed in amusement, his mouth curving into a sly smirk.
“He’s good with everything else, though.” Y/N uttered. Out of the whole Slytherin group, Lorenzo, Draco, and Pansy had the highest grades. Blaise couldn’t care less; he still scored pretty high but grades weren’t his whole life. And Matteo and Theodore, the players they were, didn’t even bother studying for exams.
“Black coffee.” The barista suddenly called out, making Theodore realise he had never given the worker his name.
“That must be your’s.” Y/N said, nodding over at the steaming drink. She smiled, which almost set Theodore’s heart alight. It was already drowning in gasoline and her damn grin may as well be the flaming match. “Theo?” She waved a hand in front of his face as he spaced out.
“Huh?” Finally, his blank eyes shifted to stare at her.
“Your coffee.” Y/N reminded him.
“Oh. Right. I’ll see you later.” Theodore was quick to stand up and grab his drink, the paper cup burning the palm of his hand.
“See you later, Theo!” Y/N called out, not seeming to notice his uneasy mood.
Theodore sped walked out of the coffee shop, holding a hand to his chest. His stomach sank as dread overwhelmed him.
Him and Matteo were like two peas on a pod. They shared the same habits too, like drinking their sorrows away and smoking until their lungs burned. And let’s not forget their infamous reputations as playboys. Theodore Nott didn’t do relationships so he refused to let a soft Hufflepuff change his mind.
Despite shoving down whatever warm feeling he felt when he was next to Y/N, Theodore couldn’t help but crane his head in search for a certain flash of H/C hair.
“Black coffee. Extra hot.” He muttered absentmindedly to the same cashier who had served him a week before.
“Name?” She asked, bored eyes gazing up at him.
“Theo.” He quickly replied, turning his head again when he thought he saw Y/N. He felt disappointed when it wasn’t her. The worker seemed to notice.
“Are you looking for that Hufflepuff you were talking to last time?” She questioned, arching a thin brown eyebrow. Theodore glanced down at her name tag that read Eulia.
“No.” He quickly denied her inquiry, wrapping his long Slytherin scarf tighter around his bare neck.
“She comes in every week around this time. She’ll be here soon.” Eulia said, glancing over Theodore’s shoulder to take in the growing line. She cleared her throat, reminding Theodore of where he was.
As usual, he threw some coins onto the countertop and walked away to the same table he sat at before. His head perked up when he heard the sound of familiar laughter.
Y/N walked in, waving good-bye to her Ravenclaw friend. “The usual, Y/N?” Eulia asked, already typing her order into the monitor.
Y/N practically bounced over to Theodore, taking a seat in front of him. “Hey, long time no see. I thought I’d see you at school but I guess not.”
“I was busy.” Theodore lied. In truth, he had been hauled up in his dorm and listening to Draco rant about Pansy.
“Doing what?” Y/N innocently tilted her head to the side, genuinely curious.
Theodore, as blunt and brainless as ever, blurted out the first thing he could think of. “Weed, drugs, and smoking.” He wanted to bash his head into the table. What kind of response was that?
Yes, he used to do all those things but he had toned it down. The only addiction he had was smoking now.
“I don’t know why I said that. It was the first thing that popped up in the mind.” He admitted, scratching the back of his head.
“I’m not judging you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Y/N laughed, “By the way, your cigarettes are about to fall.” She pointed to the packet that was lazily shoved into Theodore’s pocket. He quickly caught it.
“I don’t do weed or drugs anymore.” He uttered, “Just so you know.”
From the coffee machines, Eulia rolled her eyes. “Coffee for Theo. Cinnamon chai latte for Y/N.” She called out, placing the drinks down.
Theodore quickly stood up. “I’ll get them.” He offered, not waiting for a response.
“Smooth.” Eulia said as he grabbed the drinks.
“Cut me some slack. I’m used to hooking up with toxic girls, not chatting over coffee with a sweet Hufflepuff.” Theodore lightly scoffed.
“So, Theo, what do you want to do when you graduate?” Y/N asked as soon as he sat back down again.
He shrugged. “I don’t know.” In all his years of Hogwarts, he had never thought about it. “What about you?”
“I want to open a bakery.” Y/N said like she had been waiting the question to come up.
Theodore raised his eyebrows. “You like baking?”
“Yup! I’ll bake you something next week. Do you like chocolate?”
“Who doesn’t?” Theodore only knew one person who didn’t like chocolate, and that was Pansy. But to be fair, she had gotten food poisoning from spiked chocolate in third year.
It was safe to say that she spent most of that day hunched over the toilet while Matteo held back her hair and Lorenzo gently got her to drink water, which she threw up too but it’s the thought that counts.
“Great! I have to go now. I’m meeting up with another friend. See you at school, Theo!” Y/N effortlessly chugged her scorching hot drink. She slammed the cup against the table, grinning.
“What the…” Theodore was still trying to process what had just happened as he watched Y/N run out of the cafe and into the arms of her friend
The next week, Y/N arrived earlier than Theodore. He had been held up by Blaise, who was curious as to why he was visiting the same coffee shop three times in a row.
Theodore entered the store after managing to shake Blaise off. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shivering despite the atmosphere being warm.
Eulia, who seemed to be on duty every day, had already made his drink and placed it in front of Y/N. She was too busy doodling on his cup with a permanent marker to notice his sudden appearance.
“Cute outfit.” He said as he sat down, the legs of his chair scraping against the tilted floor. Y/N’s face visibly lit up at his small compliment. Theodore observed her pink sweater with little bows sewn on it and her short white skirt with fleece leggings lining her legs.
“As promised, your cookie.” Y/N slid the box over to Theodore, smiling. “I would recommend heating it up. A warm cookie is better than a cold and hard one.”
“Do you bake often?” Theodore asked, taking the box and letting it rest on his lap.
“I try to bake as much as I can. I like helping the house elves too.” Y/N began to fondly talk about her love for baking and as much as Theodore tried to focus on her words, his gaze wandered to a suspicious group huddled in the opposite corner.
Once Theodore looked past their dark sunglasses and large coats, he recognised them as his friends. He saw Draco shove past Pansy and he surely pointed at Y/N then at Theodore before slapped his hands together.
Theodore stared at him, puzzled. And it showed as he furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. Y/N didn’t seem to notice his wavering attention, much to his relief.
“Do you want to bake together sometime, Theo?” Y/N asked, bringing him back to their conversation. He felt a little guilty because he hadn’t heard another word of what she had said.
“Sure. Though, I don’t think I’d be much help. Matt and I tried making edibles once and we messed that shit up.”
From behind Draco, Matteo glared at Theodore. It was your fault, he mouthed. He wasn’t lying, Theodore had gotten just about every ingredient in the recipe wrong.
“Edibles?” Y/N tilted her head to the side.
“Weed brownies.” Theodore elaborated, “But that was last year. I don’t do that anymore, remember? I only party and smoke.”
“I know. You told me.” Her eyes crinkled when she smiled. Y/N’s gaze flickered to his packed of cigarettes that always looked like it was about to fall out.
“Would you like to come to a party with me?” Theodore asked, leaning forward. There was one in the Slytherin common room next week. Normally, people from other houses weren’t invited but if you had the right connections, you’d be let in.
“Parties aren’t my thing. I… don’t like the vibe. You know?”
“That’s fine. You ever tried smoking?”
“No. Cedric offered to teach me but I declined.” Y/N frowned at the lost opportunity.
“I’ll teach you.” Theodore said a little too quickly. He cleared his throat. “I mean, you keeping me company wouldn’t be so bad.” He grabbed his packet, sliding it across the table. “These are my good ones. Keep ‘em and whenever you’re having a bad day or just wanna have a smoke, find me. I’ll light one for you.”
From across the room, Matteo lightly gasped. Theodore never ever shared his good cigarettes with anyone, not even him.
“Really?” Y/N picked up the worn-out box, staring at it.
“Yeah. I gotta get going. My friends are probably wondering where I am.” Theodore, once again, lied through his teeth. He knew his friends had questions and he didn’t want to keep them waiting. He stood up, feeling Pansy’s gaze burn a hole through him.
“Enjoy the cookie!” Y/N exclaimed, grinning and waving him off.
Theodore smiled. “I’m sure I will, love.” He walked out of the cafe, his friends following close behind and bombarding him just like he had predicted.
“You clearly have some sort of feelings towards her.” Panay said as she poked the brunette beside him. All throughout breakfast, Panay had been trying to get Theodore to admit his growing affection for Y/N. He denied it every time.
“I don’t.” He said for the third time, leaning down to stuff some bacon into his mouth. As he quickly chewed, his gaze flickered to Y/N.
“You’re looking at her again!” Pansy exclaimed, huffing. “It’s so obvious you like her!”
“Where’s Lo and Draco?” Theodore changed the subject, realising the two boys were missing.
“You can’t change the topic. You like her and you know it.” Unfortunately for Theodore, Pansy was persistent. Maybe a little too much.
“Theo likes who?” Lorenzo tilted his head to the side in curiosity. The whole group, even Blaise who laughed at awkward situations, froze.
Nobody responded for a moment before Blaise put down his fork. “Y/N. He likes Y/N L/N.” Theodore glared at the boy, wondering why on hell he’d even tell Lorenzo the truth.
“… Oh.” Lorenzo didn’t say much as he sat down, glancing over at Y/N. “You’re not going to break her heart, right?”
“I don’t like her. End of conversation.” Theodore groaned, taking a huge gulp from his goblet.
“I don’t believe you.” Lorenzo uttered, pointing his fork at Theodore’s eyes, “Your eyes say it all. You keep looking at her every minute and when you do, your eyes soften.”
Pansy snickered, nudging Theodore. “Told you.”
“If you don’t like her, then you wouldn’t mind if someone else asked her out, would you?” Matteo piped up.
“You aren’t her type.” Theodore immediately replied, scoffing.
“We’re practically the same, Theo. If I’m not her type then you aren’t. She’s pretty and all but I don’t date. That guy, on the other hand, seems like he does.” Matteo pointed over to a Ravenclaw boy approaching Y/N. The whole Slytherin group watched as he nervously asked her something and when she slowly nodded, his face lit up.
Theodore clenched his hands into fists. “Did he just ask her out?” He seethed, clenching his jaw.
“You don’t like her, remember? You shouldn’t care.” As usual, Matteo had that same infuriating smirk on his face. “Anyway, what are we doing for the party tonight?”
Theodore had forgotten all about it. He faintly remembered Y/N saying parties weren’t her thing. Did she like guys who didn’t party? That Ravenclaw boy looked like he didn’t. Is that why she said yes?
“I’m not doing. Not really my thing.” He uttered, shrugging. His friends looked at him in disbelief.
“Not your thing?” Matteo stammered, “Mate, the only thing you do is party! What’s gotten into you?!”
“He’s trying to turn into Y/N’s ideal type.” Pansy snickered, “He knows he isn’t the blueprint and he can’t see her with anyone else so he’s improving himself.”
“Respect, bro. But what about Izzi?” Matteo motioned to the Slytherin girl down a few rows who was Theodore’s favourite hookup.
“I don’t care about her.”
“What about the drinks?”
“I need to cut my alcohol intake.”
“Smoking? You can’t give up smoking! You’re addicted!”
“Y/N has my cigs. When she wants to learn, I’ll teach her.”
“And if she never wants to learn?”
“Then I won’t pester her. Not smoking for a while might do me some good.” Theodore on the brink of giving up smoking for some girl was a huge deal.
Matteo leaned over to Draco, “Is he sick?”
Pansy lightly snorted and she teasingly grinned, “If you mean lovesick, then yeah.”
To be honest, Theodore didn’t even know what he was doing. His head tried to convince him to return to the common room and drink like he usually did, but his heart said no.
That’s how he ended up in the courtyard, enjoying the fresh breeze.
“Theo?” An all too familiar voice called out. He practically spun around, facing Y/N. “I thought you’d be at your party.” She stared at him, confused.
“I’m taking a break from all that.” He said. Y/N silently sat beside him on the stone bench.
“I still have your cigarettes if you want them.” Y/N said, handing the packet over. “I thought about it and I don’t think I want to smoke just yet.”
“Thanks, love.” Theodore took the box, shoving it into his pocket without hesitation. Normally, he’d take one out and light it up but tonight was different.
“So, that Ravenclaw boy.” Theodore drawled. “He asked you out, huh?”
“Hm? Oh, Rowan? Yeah. I only said yes to be nice though because he helped me with some work last year.”
“You’re too kind, love. You need to know your boundaries.”
Y/N’s cheeks heated up at the sound of his endearing nickname. “I can’t say no now. It’ll just be one date then I’ll say it didn’t work out.”
“What if he wants a second date? What will you do?” Theodore moved closer to Y/N so he could feel the warmth radiating off her body. His heart jumped at their close proximity.
“Then I’ll tell him I don’t want one.” Y/N whispered, staring up at Theodore with those gentle eyes he liked so much.
“I liked your cookie, by the way.” Theodore slowly smiled, “It was good.”
“I’ll bake you a few more next time.” Y/N beamed. “I’m trying a new recipe for a brownie so I’ll give you one too!” Theodore smiled as she jumped into another rant about baking. This time, he could actually listen without being pestered by his friends.
Theodore, as usual, walked into the cafe around the same time he usually did. Eulia spotted him and subtly waved. “Has Y/N come in yet?” He asked.
Eulia hesitated before she pointed over at Y/N and Rowan. Theodore visibly deflated. He knew Y/N was only being nice to the Ravenclaw but he still felt a twinge of sadness.
“I’m sorry, Theo. If it makes you feel better, she hasn’t looked like she’s enjoyed the date. She looks much happier talking to you.” Eulia handed him his coffee.
“Right.” He sat down at a nearby table, glancing over at Y/N every so often. The slight pang in his heart reminded him of why he never dated in the first place. He quietly cleared his throat, deciding that whatever butterflies he felt for Y/N had to be drowned.
He stood up and Y/N immediately caught his gaze. She smiled and waved when Rowan wasn’t looking, but Theodore ignored her. Slowly, she lowered her hand.
As Rowan ranted on about how Ravenclaw was the best house, Y/N couldn’t help but think of what she had done to possibly anger Theodore. So much that he ignored her when he usually enjoyed her small smiles and secretive waves. She blocked out Rowan’s voice, frowning. He couldn’t grab her attention like Theodore could.
If only she knew that Theodore was simply trying not to fall in love.
Theodore avoided her for the rest of the week. Whenever she tried to approach him, he’d walk away. Even his friends were puzzled. After another failed attempt of trying to talk to Theodore, Pansy placed a hand on her shoulder.
“We’ll talk to him.” She said.
“I don’t know what I did wrong. He’s been acting so moody all of a sudden.” Y/N sighed and pouted.
“Maybe he’s on his period.” Matteo snickered at his own joke but immediately stopped when nobody else laughed with him. “I mean, Theo hasn’t had a good drink, fuck, or smoke since Monday. And all he did on that day was smoke for five minutes before he got caught.”
“I thought he liked doing all those things. Why’d he stop if it’s just going to make him grumpy?” Y/N murmured, playing with the hem of her blouse. Matteo and Pansy exchanged a glance, knowing they shouldn’t expose Theodore so early.
“He’s just being unreasonable. Don’t worry, we’ll get through to him.” Matteo grinned, his eyes flickered to the box in Y/N’s hands. “More cookies for him?”
She nodded. “Could you give this to him? It might make him feel better.” Matteo lowly hummed, taking the box. He and Pansy walked off after Theodore, muttering to each other about what could possibly be wrong with their friend.
“Theo.” Matteo called out as they entered the Slytherin Chamber. They found him sprawled out on the couch, a burning cigarette in his mouth. “Y/N made you cookies.”
Theodore looked at the box in Matteo’s outstretched arms. “I don’t want ‘em.” He said with a lazy flick of his hands.
“But you said you love her cookies. Jeez, dude, what’s gotten into you?” Matteo scoffed as he grabbed one, shoving it into his mouth. “If a girl made me cookies like these, I’d fall in love.”
“That’s the problem!” Theodore exclaimed loudly. “I’m Theodore Nott, Hogwarts resident fuck boy. I don’t do relationships! But Y/N- Y/N is making me feel things I shouldn’t!” He groaned, pulling at the ends of his hair.
“That’s the problem?” Pansy huffed, taking a seat beside him. “Theo, look at yourself. You haven’t partied in ages, you haven’t drank, you haven’t had sex with any other girl since last month. And you haven’t been smoking up until now! If you’re willing to stop all that shit for Y/N then you obviously like her!”
“What if I’m just concealing it, huh? What if I haven’t changed and if I date Y/N, then I hurt her? I don’t care about any other girl’s feelings but Y/N, fuck. I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Figure your feelings out then decide what you want to do. Easy peasy.” Matteo shrugged, eating another cookie. Theodore clicked his tongue, snatching the box out of his hands.
“It better be easy or I’m going to smoke all your favourite cigs, Matt.”
Matteo was lying. It was not easy to figure out how he felt towards Y/N. Every time he got close to her, he changed his mind last minute and rushed off. It earned him some weird looks but he couldn’t care less.
“Have you even slept lately?” Matteo questioned, slamming a cup of coffee in front of Theodore. He groaned.
“Do I look like I’ve slept?” He muttered, glowing at Matteo.
“Like a baby.” His friend teased, cruelly laughing. Lorenzo glanced over Theodore’s shoulder, clearing his throat.
“Y/N’s coming this way.” He whispered, kicking Theodore.
“What?” He looked around, panicked. Y/N was indeed walking towards him. He grabbed his coffee, splashing it onto Matteo’s wrinkled blouse.
“Yo! What the fuck, dude? That’s hot!” Matteo seethed, resisting the urge to peel his wet shirt off. Some girls hoped he would.
“Sorry, Matt. It was an accident. I’ll help you clean up.” Theodore tried to play his stunt off as an accident while practically dragging Matteo out of the hall.
“Okay, seriously, what was that all about?”
“I needed an excuse to get away.”
“So you spilled hot coffee on me?!”
“I would’ve let you do the same.” Theodore glared at his friend as he sat down and slumped. “She’s everywhere. How is she so social? I can’t get away from her.” He ran a hand through his messy hair.
“Have you been running away from Y/N this whole time?” Matteo questioned, arching an eyebrow. “It’s hilarious to imagine you running away from a girl.”
“Shut up. I’m processing things.” Theodore sighed.
“Just talk to her, Theo.” Matteo lightly nudged his leg, “What else can you lose? You’ve already lost your dignity.”
It had been a few weeks since Theodore had returned to the coffee shop. But finally, he strutted through the doorway with his usual uncaring demeanour.
Someone else entered as Theodore stood in the middle of the room, taking in everything he had missed about this cafe.
“Theo?” Y/N asked, peering over his shoulder. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” He stiffened and slowly turned around. “Are you having a coffee?”
“I’ve already had one, actually. I was just seeing if this place had changed.” Theodore wanted to walk away but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Y/N’s eyes.
“Well, there’s no harm in having another one, right? It’s on me.” Y/N smiled at Eulia, “One cinnamon chai latte and…” She thought for a moment, glancing over at Theodore, “You’ve already had a coffee so one cream latte as well!”
Y/N paid and brushed past Theodore.
“Kiss her.” Eulia hissed, harshly poking Theodore’s shoulder.
“I’m not kissing her.” Theodore replied back in a hushed whisper.
“Theo, you coming?” Y/N called out, looking over her shoulder.
There was barely anybody in the cafe and even if there was, Eulia would’ve ignored their drinks to make Y/N and Theodore’s.
Theodore reached out to grab his but Y/N was quicker. She grasped both drinks, smiling at him. “We don’t have to be back at school for a while so let’s sit here.”
Theodore nervously followed behind Y/N to their usual table. He sat down, rigid and stiff. He saw his cup and glared at Eulia, who laughed. She had written a message on the cardboard, kiss her, and Theodore was quick to cover it.
He looked out the window, almost jumping with joy when he saw Matteo. “Oh! Matt! I need to talk to him! Sorry, Y/N. I’ll see you later!” He ran out of the cafe, crashing into his friend.
“Matteo! Quick! Do something!” Theodore shook his friend, urging him to create a distraction.
“Is this about Y/N?” He asked.
“She’s in the coffee shop- don’t look!” Theodore shoved his friend.
“And you need me to something stupid?”
Theodore eagerly nodded but was unprepared when Matteo pushed him forward and down a snowy hill. “Theo! Sorry! My hand slipped! I’m coming!” Matteo yelled out in a fake worried voice as Theodore rolled and got a mouthful of snow.
Y/N watched their strange interaction as she sipped on her drink. “… He didn’t call me love like he usually does.”
Y/N hummed to herself as she slipped on a pair of mittens and took out a tray of cookies. She placed the hot metal tray on the counter, the smell of baked goods wafting through the air.
She poured herself a cup of light coffee and sat down, swinging her legs. She lifted her head when she heard the sound of quiet swearing and smelled the scent of cigarettes and cologne.
“Theo?” She asked, tilting her head to the side. It was silent for a moment before the boy sheepishly pushed the kitchen doors open.
“I was looking for a snack for Pansy. She’s not feeling well.” He looked around, staring at everything but Y/N.
“I would offer her a cookie but she doesn’t really like chocolate, does she?” Y/N circled her finger around the rim of her cup, “Would you like some coffee? I made it myself.”
Theodore found himself sitting across from her against his will. He watched as she poured him a cup, softly smiling.
“Thanks.” He stammered, grabbing the white mug and gulping it down.
Y/N’s eyes widened. “Careful! Isn’t it hot?”
Theodore slammed the cup down, ignoring the burning sensation on his tongue. “No.” He wheezed, his vocal cords threatening to give up on him, “I’m fine. Tastes great.”
“You’ve spilled some.” Y/N said. She leaned forward, pointing at his collar. His top two buttons were undone and hot coffee trickled down his skin. “That must hurt. Here, let me help.”
Y/N dabbed a tissue against Theodore’s collar and he flinched as her fingers came in contact with his exposed skin. She noticed, peeking up at him through her lashes.
“Do you hate me so much that you can’t stand having one coffee with me?” She asked, taking a small step back.
“What?” Theodore choked. He didn’t hate her, quite the opposite to be honest.
“You keep running away from me. And you left me in the cafe the other day. And you didn’t wave back. Do you hate me?”
Theodore hated how he could see her E/C eyes glass over. He fiddled with his mug, tapping his nails against the porcelain.
“I… have to go. Pansy needs me.” He stood up, leaving without another word. He was doing what he did best; running away from his problems.
With Theodore out of the picture, Y/N felt lonely. She dug around in her pocket, confused when she fished out a cigarette. “Oh… it must’ve fallen out.” She murmured.
She was on her way to the cafe, but not to meet up with Theodore. The day after he had walked out on her, again, a Gryffindor had approached her and asked her out. She said yes in hopes this date would be better than her date with Rowan.
Spoiler alert, it wasn’t. In fact, she felt like it was worse. Y/N stared at her cup as the boy beside her talked on and on about his love for quidditch.
“What’s your hobby?” He suddenly asked.
“Baking.” Y/N answered absentmindedly.
“Oh, that’s kind of boring. Quidditch is better, don’t you think?”
Y/N resisted the urge to sigh. Theodore never insulted her love for baking.
“Do you do anything else?” The boy questioned.
“I study.”
“Jeez, you really are boring. You wanna come to a party with me? I know a guy who’ll hook us up with some coke.”
“No thanks.” Y/N rested her cheek in the palm of her hand, watching the clock closely so she could dart away as soon as the date was over.
Someone suddenly pulled up a chair in front of Y/N. “Coke is boring.” Theodore uttered, “Baking is better.”
Y/N tried to conceal her smile since she was still upset with him, but when he winked at her, she couldn’t help it.
“What are you doing here, Nott?” The Gryffindor sneered.
“I’m here to thank you for keeping my girl company.” Theodore grinned, showing off his pearly white teeth. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.” He grabbed Y/N by the wrist, tugging her out of the cafe.
“Why do you choose the shittiest guys to go out with?” Theodore asked.
Y/N lightly huffed. “It’s not like I mean to. At least they don’t walk away from me when I’m trying to talk, though.”
“You still upset with me, love?”
“You hurt my feelings, Nott.” Y/N pulled out the lone cigarette, shoving it into Theodore’s hand, before hurrying off.
He quickly placed it between his lips and lit it. “Let me explain, love!” He exclaimed, chasing after her. He breathed out a mouthful of smoke.
“Okay. Then explain.” Y/N folded her arms over her chest.
“What? Here? Now?” When Theodore saw the unamused look on Y/N’s face, he sighed. “Fine, but this is going to sound stupid.” He took another hit from his cigarette, needing all the courage he could get.
He took a deep breath. “I think you’re wonderful person and I didn’t want to risk hurting you so I tried to distance myself but that backfired and I was trying to process my feelings because I’m Theodore Nott. I don’t do relationships. But you made me want to give it a go so I got scared and that made me do stupid shit like spilling coffee on Matt or running away or allowing Matt to push me down a hill.”
Y/N furrowed her brows. “What are you trying to say?”
“I like you, Y/N! I like the way you smile and the way your eyes light up and I like how you look and me and how fond you are of baking! I like how you take the time to make me cookies because it makes me feel special! You treat me so differently from other girls and that’s how I know you aren’t just around for a hook up! I like your perfume and your hair and your outfits and the way you skip when you’re happy and how you read classic Muggle books because you want a cute teen romance!”
“You noticed all of that… about me?”
“How could I not? You have such a charming aura and I can’t stand it because no matter how much I try to deny it, I like you.”
“You really like me?” Y/N knew about Theodore’s reputation and she’d be lying if she didn’t feel the same way. But what if he was just toying with her?
“I do.”
“Okay then. Hug me!” Y/N exclaimed, confident he was joking. Theodore shrugged before embracing her tightly. “Uh… hold my hand!” He intertwined their fingers without hesitation. “Kiss me!” Y/N was sure he wouldn’t do it but when he leaned down and pecked her lips, she froze.
“Are you done? There’s a lot more things I’d do for you, Y/N.”
“Are you sure you like me? Like, really? Because what if we get married and you decide you don’t like me but we already have two kids and a cat together? Who will keep the cat? Or will we have shared custody over it?” Y/N spoke so fast Theodore could hardly understand her.
“What about the children?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.
“What about the cat, Theo?”
“I really do like you, Y/N. Believe it or not. I’m willing to give dating a try… if it makes I can date you.”
“Please don’t break my heart, Theo.”
“I won’t.”
“Can we finally drink coffee together without you running off?” Y/N questioned, which earned her a small chuckle from Theodore.
“I won’t run away this time, love. I promise.”
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eddiethebrave · 1 month
Text
secret admirer part four
1,321 words
one two three
Eddie the hobbit, huh? i haven’t read that one (which isn’t saying much cause i've only read books from class) it’s probably good i’d love to hear you talk about it i’d love to hear you talk about anything, though, so maybe i’m biased p.s. i know it makes me sound like an inconsiderate asshole and maybe i am but i’m only now realizing that i don't know if you want me to stop with these i’m sorry if you do promise i’ll figure out a way to ask -H
Eddie finding a way to reply to him about the book gives Steve peace of mind that he doesn’t want him to stop with the notes, but he still feels sort of weird about it. His thoughts go round and round all day and by the time the dismissal bell rings, he has a bit of a headache. 
After checking that he has enough cash on him, Steve goes out to the picnic table behind the school where Mark Jones sells pot most days. 
He makes his way into the clearing only to see someone who is certainly not Mark Jones perched on top of the table. 
Steve stops dead in his tracks.
Eddie grins sharply and holds his arms out wide. “What have I done to be blessed with his highness’ presence?”
Steve wants to talk to him. Wants to tell him to just call him Steve, wants to ask about his book, but all that comes out of his mouth is, “What are you doing here?”
Eddie’s arms drop to his sides and he raises his eyebrows in question.
“Where’s Jones?” Steve clarifies, taking slow steps forward.
“Ah, I see. You’re here for my wares.” Eddie abruptly jumps from his seat and stretches with a groan that has Steve’s cheeks heating up. Eddie meanders over to the other side of the table before looking back at Steve and tilting his head in amusement. “Unfortunately, Mark has been let go. He had a nasty pilfering habit.” 
Whatever the fuck that means.
Steve can’t help the small smile that grows on his face, but he lifts his hand up to wipe it off inconspicuously. He’s never talked to Eddie before. 
Eddie drops onto the bench and gestures for Steve to sit across from him. As he does, Eddie opens his lunchbox and begins to rifle through it. Steve lets his eyes trail to Eddie’s hands while his focus is elsewhere. This close, Steve can finally see what shape the chunky silver ring is. A skull with fangs. Of course, it’s a skull. He should’ve known. 
Steve thinks about complimenting it but decides it would only make Eddie suspicious and he doesn’t wanna be found out (yet, he thinks then immediately backtracks. He can’t let anyone know that he’s writing love notes to a boy. Especially not the boy himself. Who knows how Eddie would react. Even though Steve hasn’t been trying to come off as a girl through the notes, and even though no one could possibly mistake his chicken scratch penmanship for that of a girl’s, still. No one can know).
“So.” Eddie claps his hands and Steve’s eyes snap to his face. “What’ll it be, my liege?”
Steve clears his throat. “Uh, I usually just go for a couple of pre-rolls.”
“Mhm, great choice. Prepared these myself.” Eddie swipes a baggie with two in it and holds it out. When Steve goes to grab it, though, Eddie pulls it out of his reach. “Ah ah ah, Harrington, no freebies.”
Steve rolls his eyes and huffs a laugh. “Yeah, alright, man.” He pulls his wallet out and hands him what he usually pays.
Eddie takes the money and counts it leisurely. “You’re five bucks short.”
Steve stares at him deadpan. 
“Birthday fee,” Eddie offers in explanation, shrugging like 'what can you do?’ “Can’t a guy make some extra change for his special day?” Eddie bats his eyelashes.
This boy is trying to kill him. Steve looks heavenward for strength. He counts down from five in his head and only then does he risk looking back at Eddie. “It’s your birthday?”
Eddie grins. “Yup,” he says, popping the p, “Tomorrow. The big one eight.”
Steve stands and tosses a ten onto the table. Eddie passes him the baggie and starts shuffling through his lunchbox. He pulls out a five and holds it out.
Steve waves him off and Eddie peers up at him suspiciously before shrugging and returning the bill to his stash. Steve turns on his heel and begins his journey back to the parking lot. “Happy birthday to me, I guess,” Eddie mutters and Steve smiles to himself. He shoves his hands in his pockets and pivots to walk backwards. 
“Happy birthday, Munson,” he calls and Eddie’s head snaps up.
Steve grins before turning back around and breaking into a jog. 
It’s not often that Steve finds himself in the thrift store. Not ever, actually, but with all that Eddie complains about capitalism and The Man (who the fuck is the man) and whatnot, he supposes this is his best bet. 
Steve wanders around, not even really knowing what he’s looking for. He’s idly skimming over the women’s jewelry section when he finds it. A silver ring with a blackish blueish stone in the center. It’s not that far off from the one Eddie already has, is it?
Steve tries it on and it’s a bit snug. He’ll admit that he spent far too much time earlier looking at Eddie’s hands and he thinks they were about the same size as his own, if not a bit thinner. 
It’s perfect. 
…He hopes it’s perfect. 
Eddie heard through the grapevine today’s someone’s b-day i left a gift for you under the dealer’s table p.s. it didn’t fit in the locker p.s.s sorry if this is weird but you’ll understand once you see it -H
He jogs to plant the present in its place. He’d rolled the second note up and slipped the ring onto it. It kinda looks like a scroll.
happy birthday eddie i don’t know if you want me to keep writing or if you think it’s weird or what if you want me to stop just don’t wear the ring and i’ll back off i hope you have a good day and that you like the ring <3 p.s. you’re older than me now
Steve is so anxious that he feels nauseous by the time he makes his way back to practice and it must show because coach tells him to take the bench. Tommy shoots him a worried glance but Steve just waves him off.  
By lunchtime, Steve doesn’t think he can look. He doesn’t know why it feels like this. Like Eddie not wearing the ring would be the end of the world. 
He manages to avoid looking for the first ten minutes and is seriously worried that he won’t have the guts to do it. Just as he’s resigned himself to his fate, Tommy groans from where he’s sitting in Steve’s usual seat (he hadn’t questioned the change) and then he cups his hands around his mouth and shouts.
“Get down, freak!”
Steve only just manages to not flinch. Slowly, he turns in his seat. Eddie pays no mind to Tommy other than flipping him off without even looking in his direction or pausing in his speech.
Eddie is currently using a lunch table as a stage as his friends grin up at him, egging him on. He’s passionate about whatever it is he’s talking about. Steve can tell from the way he begins gesturing wildly as he speaks. 
Steve can't tear his eyes away. He feels like he's finally been given permission to look since half of the cafeteria has their attention on him. 
It’s then that Steve glimpses the ring on Eddie's right hand. His ring.
five
tag list (closed)
@sofadofax @noodle-shenaniganery @queenie-ofthe-void @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @devondespresso
@dreamingtheimpossibe @plutoshelm @jaywhohasthegay @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie
@dreamy-jeans137 @justdrugsformethanks @estrellami-1 @travelingtwentysomething @sleepy-steve
@wheneverfeasible @bisexual-and-broke @lil-gremlin-things @n0-1-important @xxbottlecapx
@tinyplanet95
sorry if i missed anyone!!
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entitled-fangirl · 8 months
Text
Sparring.
Jasper Hale x vampire!reader
Summary: As Jasper teaches how to fight the newborns, the reader and Bella talk about her past.
Words: 1,551
Warning: vampire stuff, talk of death, cursing
Author's note: I can't tell if I love it or hate it but here you go anyway!
Masterlist &lt;3
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The famous silver jeep of the Cullen’s pulled up as she watched Emmett be thrown into the dirt. 
The entire family turned as Edward and Bella stepped out of the car.
As they walk to the family, so do the wolves. 
Each vampire held to their mate as they watched said wolves come out from the tree line. Soft growls came from their snouts from the obvious smell of vampires.
Jasper held on to her as they did so, his arms around her waist, his chest providing support against her back. 
Edward stepped to Carlisle, “They don’t trust us enough to be in their human forms.”
Carlisle nodded, “At least they came. That’s enough. Will you translate?”
Carlisle stepped towards the wolves, thanking them for coming before explaining that Jasper would be the teacher in this scenario.
Jasper’s loving mate smiled. She loved sparring as a family.
Some time passes and the girl now sits on the hood of the jeep next to Bella. She leans over, “I’ve always found this entertaining. Watching them,  I mean…”
Bella smiled as Emmett flew threw the air once again. “I did have a question, if you don’t mind me asking…?”
The girl nods, anticipating what the human could possibly think of to ask.
“Jasper knows a lot about this kind of thing… I mean… Why is that exactly..?”
His mate shifts slightly, not expecting that question. “Well, Bella. I don’t feel that I’m the one that should tell you. Perhaps you should ask him. It’s… a horrid story, honestly. I’m not sure he’d want it out there, you know?”
Bella nods, “yeah, right. I get it… sorry.”
The girl’s head perks up at the sound of her name being called by Carlisle. “Oh, shit. My turn to go. Watch me, Bells?”
Bella grins, “Of course.”
Jasper stood confidently on the dirt ground, his eyes trained on the person in front of him.
His pretty mate. 
She held the same look in her eyes. 
They had sparred many times before. And they were both quite good. He taught her practically everything he knows. 
The entire family gathered around to see how it would play out. Would they go easy on each other? Who would win?
It seemed the two held that look in their eyes as well as they tried to scope the other one’s thoughts.
Then he rushed her. 
They were both incredible to watch as if they were dancing. Their bodies seemed to always know what the other would do, even when changing their fighting style. It seemed the two lovers truly knew each other in and out. 
Eventually she slipped, and Jasper seized his opportunity, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to him. 
Pulled against his body, her face was mere inches from him. The tension between the two rose as his gaze fell to her lips. God, he couldn’t resist her even when he was pretending to be her enemy.
And she was no better.
She focused on the feeling of his strong grip, his sturdy fingers wrapped around her seemingly delicate wrist. 
If they were alone, this sparring match would have escalated, like it usually does when they are so. But today, they simply stared at each other. Those who didn’t know them would assume they were calculating what the other might do next, but no. This family knew them quite well. And thank god no one else had Jasper’s gift, or the tension would bring a blush to their cheeks.
She gently leaned forward, their lips brushing. Jasper tilted his head down to receive her soft lips. But they never came.
She swept his leg out from under him, pinning him to the ground as she placed a knee on his chest. 
She leaned down to his face, whispering softly in his ear, “What was that you said? Don’t get distracted?”
He smiled, letting his head fall back against the dirt. 
She would be the death of him. 
And he would love it.
The sparring continued the next day as she found herself sitting next to Bella on the hood of the car again.
She watched Jasper as he sparred with an admiring look in her eye. She loved the Major with all her heart. 
Or, what was left of it anyway.
If it still pumped blood, she would be able to feel it beat for him.
“Do you mind if I ask you another question? A different one, this time?”
The girl nods, “Yeah, don’t see why not.” 
Bella looks down at the dirt. “Can I ask what happened to you? How you… how you got here?”
She felt a breath come out of her unused lungs, “Oh. Yeah. ‘Course. It’s… not a pleasant story but any means… are you sure?”
The human nods, “Please. I’m trying to understand you guys better.”
The girl leans back slightly, regaining her bearings. “Alright. Well… I was born in 1941. I uh, grew up in the 50s. Not the best timing, obviously. Do you know much about the ’50’s, Bella?”
The human’s head tilts back and forth in thought, “A little. Civil rights and stuff..?”
“Yeah. Well, the Korean War was in the 50’s. There was this military guy that fell in love with me. And I to him. But… we, uh… how do I say this? He was… we were…?”
Bella leans forward, “…what? Just say it.”
“Well, we were different skin tones. And.. well, I don’t need to say much more. Anyway, there was this other man that decided he liked me. He was pigheaded and awful. I hated him. He tormented me everyday. I finally told him about the man that-“
“-what was his name?”
The girl’s head perked up, “Whose?”
Bella met her eyes, “…the one you loved.”
A deep sigh left the vampire’s lips, “…Johnathan.”
Bella nodded, leaning back again to let the girl continue her story.
“I told the man about… Johnathan and… the man began to tell everyone in town. It became the only thing anyone talked about until eventually…. Eventually...,” the girl’s voice faded out in thought. “…I’m sorry. I haven’t told this story in so long…”
“It’s alright. Take your time.”
“Thank you… uh… the man formed a mob and approached us in the park one day. Johnathan tried to protect me. And he did. Until they… killed him…” the girl stared at the ground, a somber look in her eyes. “…and the man ended up being a vampire… he changed me and… well… yeah.”
Bella nodded, “How did you find Carlisle?”
“Oh. Right. Uh, I was on the run… after I changed. I actually ran into him. Well, he ran into me. He…. He stood to where I would crash into him, so he could talk to me. He knew everything. He took me in. And I met Jasper…”
Her eyes wandered back to Jasper. His sleeves were pulled up, exposing the skin of his forearms, and the scars that resided there. He was so strong. So perfect. Her knight in shining armor. 
Bella noticed the girl’s longing gaze and smiled to herself. “…how did you know he was the one?”
The girl turned back to Bella, “Oh. You just know, Bella. It’s… ugh, it’s this feeling you get in your heart. Like you’ve finally taken a breath after being underwater for years. Like your souls have intertwined and have become one. It’s… strange to put into words…”
Bella nods, “It sounds wonderful.”
She nods too, “Oh, it is. Edward feels that way about you.”
Bella looks up in surprise, “Really?”
She smiles, “Yeah. He told me that the day he met you. Like he couldn’t think around you. You… occupy all of his thoughts. You fascinate him.”
The human grins, “And that’s how Jasper feels?”
“-How I feel about what?”
Jasper had walked up to the two, a grin on his face. He leaned against the car on his side, his arm resting over his girl’s leg. 
His mate smiled, “Perhaps it’s none of your business… girl things…”
Jasper scoffed, “Sure, darlin’. Anything you say.”
Her hand reached up to run it through his hair. 
The three sat in silence for a while before the girl broke it. “I need to go back to the house. Help me down, Jas?”
He stood, reaching his arms out, gripping her waist to help her down. She was vampire. She didn’t need help. And they both knew that. 
Bella scooted forward, “Wait, before you go…?”
The girl turned around in Jasper’s arms. “…Yeah?”
“What happened to him? …To the guy that…”
The girl’s lips pulled up into a smirk. Her head turned slightly to look at Jasper’s face that held the same knowing smirk of his own. “Well, Bella. He… got what he deserved…” 
And with that, she walked away. 
Bella gawked slightly, now focusing on Jasper, hoping he could illuminate on the situation. 
But he continued to grin, watching his girl walk away. 
Eventually, Jasper felt Bella’s confused emotion and turned to her. “I made a vow not to kill after I met her…”
Bella’s eyebrows knitted together, and Jasper’s smirk grew into a grin. 
“…But I fucking killed him.”
And with that, silence overtook the forest as he continued to watch his girl walk away.
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2K notes · View notes
lqveharrington · 8 months
Text
Fake-Love | C.S.
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summary: a boy was bothering you, so you and Coriolanus take it into your own hands.
pairing: university!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
includes: a very unstable, toxic relationship between the two, (arranged marriage), making out, comments toward the reader’s body, implied sex (it isn’t written), mentions of murder
a/n: soooo, as i write for the Silver Roses & Fallen Snow series, i decided to write a billion one-shot for our favorite blond to keep the era for him alive so i can finish my series 🫡. also, the uniforms are based of the gilmore girls’ one, since they are in university now and not academy.
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The arranged marriage between the Snows and the Edevanes were always doomed to happen. You were born the same year as Coriolanus, and your families were already close with each other.
It was just, you and Coriolanus despised one another.
The feeling was 100% mutual. The reasoning for such a feud was due to the never ending fight for the brightest student in the Capitol. During your years in Academy, it was a tie in every class. Of course, your hatred for one another was more tame.
It only really changed when Coriolanus came back from serving the Districts as a peacekeeper. There was something about his demeanor that was much different, plus the way he was built could have made you weak in the knees.
He joined University a little after it had started for your class, but that didn’t stop him from becoming the best. You were currently the top of your class in University, but that changed when he joined under Dr. Gaul. His jabs to your reputation were much stronger than in Academy. He would make comments about you when walking down the hall behind you, making sure you understood that he would do whatever it took to be back on top.
So, when your parents dropped the bomb on you that you were to be engaged to Coriolanus as soon as possible, your blood boiled at the male. You could not believe he stooped that low to get back at you.
And about a few weeks after the initial announcement, you and Coriolanus officially got engaged, becoming the sudden talk of the Capitol.
“How did you keep your dating life such a huge secret?” A reporter stuck their microphone up to your face as you and Coriolanus exited a car together.
“Well, we were just so love struck with one another that we didn’t want others to know.” Coriolanus smiled, answering the question for you.
His arm was looped around yours as you were guided into the University, answering all the questions being asked of you both. The moment you stepped inside the school grounds you let go of the male, dusting off your uniform’s plaid skirt.
“What time do your classes end?” He muttered toward you, adjusting his own uniform.
“I have study hall all day, I’ll be done whenever you are.” You state as you head for the library, ignoring the icy stare your fiancé was giving you.
Since Coriolanus studied under Dr. Gaul, you knew you would have to stay a lot longer in the University’s library than usual, but you did not necessarily care. You had textbook assignments due, and it was an opportunity to get everything done.
That was the goal until a first year at the University started bothering you.
“I told you, I’m busy.” You stand from your seat, furrowing your brows at the young male. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go find a book for my psychology lessons.”
“Aw, don’t be lame.” He inched toward you, grabbing your wrist. “Why don’t we have our own fun instead? I’m sure you’re just as beautiful underneath your skirt.”
Your eyes harden at his words and mess with your engagement ring, “You‘ll have to excuse me, I have to be somewhere.”
Swiftly, you weave through the different shelves full of books. You swore under your breath when you hear the footsteps of the male behind you, sharply turning into a more secluded space. To your surprise, you found Coriolanus pulling books from the Hunger Games previous years.
“What are you doing in here?” You question, quickly moving around to his left. “I thought Dr. Gaul needed you today?”
“She wanted me to understand the history of the previous games to help with the programming and DNA of new animals.” He mumbled, looking through a thick book from the first Hunger Games. “What are you doing?”
“This guy was hitting on me.” You shrug, meeting Coriolanus’ darkened eyes. “What?”
“What guy?” He placed the books down on a cart, grabbing your chin.
You bite the inside of your cheek, “I don’t know his name, but he’s a first year here. Why do you care so much?”
“Because, gorgeous, you’re my fiancée. Any guy who even looks your way that isn’t me is dead.” He backed you into the shelf, hand still tight on your chin. “Did he saying anything or touch you?”
“Yes.” You whisper, gaze dropping to his lips before back up to his darkened blue eyes. “He grabbed my wrist and said that ‘I’m probably just as beautiful underneath my skirt’.”
Coriolanus took his other hand and firmly placed it on your hip, eyes wandering your face. “I’ll kill him.”
You turn your head to the side as you heard footsteps nearing before Coriolanus slammed his lips onto yours, pulling your body close to his. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss without a care in the world.
“Mm, Coryo—“ You part, feeling your skirt hike up. “Are you insane?”
“Maybe.” He chuckles, shutting you up with a harder kiss, slipping his tongue through your parted mouth.
Coriolanus changes his hold on you, both hands now on your waist. You shift your hips, earning a quiet groan from the male. He retaliates by tracing a hand up to your throat, slightly squeezing it which earned a moan coming from you.
“Oh, so you’re just a whore.” The male scoffed from the front of the aisle, looking at the couple.
“Kill him?” You ask between kisses, tugging at his tie. Truly, you didn’t know he would take that request to heart as the male soon was deemed missing a day later. But for now, you were caught up in the heat.
Coriolanus grins, leaving one last kiss to your swollen lips. “He talks to my soon to be wife like that, it’ll be worse than a quick kill.”
read more about coriolanus snow here !!
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©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms
1K notes · View notes
luvacookie · 7 months
Text
mr steal ur girl.
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eren notices an unfamiliar face at one of his frat parties…
❥ warnings : reiner bein a dick, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap), nicknames, squirting, porn w a plot, intended use of lower case, mildly proof read, shy-ish reader, black fem coded.
❥ cookie for ur thoughts ? : my first post, my first aot idea >~< ! idk how people will respond to this. i need to write a lil sum sum for con, i will work on it…
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“pleaseee ! you never come out with me! plus you get to be around reiner.”
pieck stared at you through the floor length mirror, adjusting her black skin tight dress as you ignored her and continued to scroll through your phone. as per usual, she was going to one of her parties hosted by her friends and as per usual she was asking you to join her.
normally you declined, opting to stay wrapped up in bed, catching up on one of your hour long k-dramas episodes or looking over work you did in a lecture.
parties were not your scene and they never had been.
“pieck… i don’t know…” you responded sceptically, curling the end of your braid around your finger.
“i can set you up with reiner, he talks about you all the time you know,” pieck said walking over to your bed.
you sighed, you knew she was just using your delusional crush on reiner to lure you in and unfortunately it was working.
you pushed your glasses up, exhaling defeatedly. pieck smiled and clapped her hands together, jumping up from the bed.
“we have to make sure you look cute as fuck so shower, skincare, makeup, whatever you need to do and by time you get out i’ll have a cute fit for you!” she said happily, digging through your clothes.
you hauled yourself out of bed, grabbing your towel and headed to the shower. you cleaned up nicely, freshening yourself up for the party. you put your braids into a half-up half-down with a side parting, laying your edges with a decorative heart.
pieck had picked out a two piece pink set for you with white string heels, you matched your accessories accordingly with pink hair clips and white glasses.
she smiled at you in awe. “you look so fuckin’ good right now! you seriously need to get out more.”
you looked down shyly, “are you sure pie’? this is so out of my zone.”
“oh my god, of course i’m sure, now come on. reiner won’t wait all night,” she giggled.
she grabbed you by the hand and dragged you to her convertible, making sure to let the top down so the warm night air hit your faces. the ride there was filled with vibes and giggles, your nerves slowly disappearing.
soon enough you arrived at the frat house, the musics blaring through all the open doors and windows. people were dancing on the lawn, cars pulled up in every direction. pieck dragged you through the crowd, stopping for a couple seconds at a time to say hi to her mutuals.
soon enough you found your way into the kitchen with her where the rest of your friend group was.
“hey guys!” pieck called out over the music and they all greeted her back.
“no fuckin’ way you brought y/n,” connie said, licking his paper and putting the blunt behind his ear.
you waved at him, smiling lightly.
“well damn, who woulda thought,” annie said from beside him, holding a red solo cup.
“she finally managed to convince me soooo…” you trailed off leaning against the counter.
“you look hot though,” sasha commented, a lazy smile on her face as if she was already high.
“mmm, cheers to that,” reiner said from behind you.
you turned around, looking him up and down. he had a simple white tee on that hugged his arms perfectly, a pair of black cargo’s with a silver chain. he handed you a cup and knocked it with yours, tipping the contents of it back.
you stared at him briefly, watching his throat move as he swallowed. you followed shortly after, pulling a face as the liquor burned your throat.
everyone spoke amongst themselves, pieck catching up on all the lost drinks, leaving you and reiner to have a sweet conversation.
“why don’t i see you out enough?” he asked, looking down at you.
you turned your head to the side, the eye contact making your stomach flip, “not really my thing.”
“they should be,” he followed up quickly, “you’re too pretty to be kept hostage in your dorm.”
you looked at him, smiling. “thanks.”
“no problem sweetheart,” he poured himself another drink, refilling yours too.
“you drink a lot?” he asked, sipping on his mix.
“not really, only when i come to these things, which is basically never,” you chuckled lightly, tasting your drink.
“i’m gonna have to force pieck to bring you out more, you’re too fuckin’ pretty darling.”
“rei, stop you’re making me feel shy,” you sighed, looking at him with obvious heart eyes.
he made a noise in his throat, a cocky smirk on his face. “dance with me?”
you stared, your brain slowly registering before you nodded. you turned to pieck, gesturing that you were going with reiner and she gave you a massive thumbs up in encouragement.
reiner took your hand in his and lead you to where the music was the loudest, putting your hands around his neck as his met your waist. he stayed with you like that for the majority of the song, his eyes holding yours.
your acrylics danced at the nape of his neck, as the grip on your waist slowly became tighter. he pulled you close enough for your chests to be touching, forcing you to look up at his height.
“are you even listening ? hellooo?”
“yeah..yeah, who’s that?” eren asked, ignoring whatever armin was saying.
armin looked around, “who?”
“her,” eren said, nodding in your direction.
“oh, y/n l/n. she’s in my english major,” armin said dismissively.
eren nodded, watching how you were slowly grinding on reiner, or realistically how your tits were moving in your dress. he had never seen you before, so how did you know reiner of all people?
as the song ended you pulled reiner down to your height, muttering something to him in which he nodded. you left the room, leaving reiner to join one of his other group of friends, though he didn’t see where you left to as porco joined him and armin.
you returned to the kitchen where connie was left on his own, tapping the ash off his blunt into the sink.
“you and reiner?” he asked, his words slightly slowed.
you poured a shot, smiling to yourself. “maybe. i don’t know.”
you tipped it back as he continued talking to you. “he likes you, you know that right?”
you reapplied your lipgloss, “does he?”
“for real, he talks about you all the time,” he inhaled slowly.
“that’s cute. i like him too,” you smiled at connie.
he exhaled and turned the roll to you, “you smoke?”
“no… i’ve only hit once before,” you admitted, staring at it.
“you don’t wanna hit that shit, probably laced,” came a deep voice from behind you.
you turned to see eren leaning on the door frame, staring at you. he was wearing simple grey sweats and a white tee, his hair pulled back into a messy bun.
“fuck off yaeger,” connie muttered, rolling his eyes, smoke exhaling his mouth with a string of cusses following.
he ignored connie, focusing his attention on you. “you’ve never been to one of these before have you?”
“do i stand out that bad?” you shook your head, the sound of your acrylic tapping the glass following.
eren walked round the counter, pouring himself straight whiskey. “oh you stand out… would’ve remembered your face.”
you tip your head to the side and glance back at connie who stares at you blankly. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“means your cute, your boyfriend is lucky,” he comments swiftly.
“my boyfriend ?” you question, toying with the curly end of your braid.
“reiner. i would think so anyways after the way you were dancing with him,” he responds, a glint in his eye as if he was digging for information.
you look up and make eye contact with him. “he’s not my boyfriend—”
“not yet anyways,” connie interrupts.
you felt your face flush, unsure if you had turned a shade of red or not. you shook your head and had another shaky shot, the alcohol seeping it’s way into your bloodstream.
“what’s your name ?” eren asks, sipping vodka straight from the bottle that was left on the counter.
“y/n,” you responded. “don’t worry, i know who you are eren.”
he tipped his head to the side slightly, he liked the way you said his name.
he hummed, continuing his drink when his friend armin entered the room.
“are reiner and annie fucking or something ?” he asks, a twinge of annoyance in his tone.
you turned to look at armin, your heart slightly dropping. “what do you mean ?”
armin looks at you as if he hadn’t registered you were in the room, “n-nothing. just the way they were talkin’ and dancing and shit..”
you were sure you felt your heart drop this time. annie and reiner ? they had never gave an indication that they liked each other.
you looked off to the side, your throat slowly going dry.
connie noticed and sighed. “they like siblings, don’t stress it.”
you nodded, “y-yeah of course, i just need some air or something.”
you used that as your cue to leave, eren’s eyes following your figure as you walked past him towards the back garden.
you were slightly embarrassed, choking up in front of three boys, two of them you barley knew. you sat on a chair in the corner, taking a shallow breath and texting pieck.
y/n : i think i’m ready to cut pie
pie 🙇🏾‍♀️💓 : y ? e oksy?
you looked at her message and knew she was drunk, yet she still tried her best to check in on you.
y/n : yh dw abt me imma jus take an uber or smthin
pie 🙇🏾‍♀️💓 : olay
pie 🙇🏾‍♀️💓 : grt home sfe iky <3333
you sighed and turned your phone off, looking at the people in the garden. you heard giggling and saw reiner and annie trip over one another, clearly having a good time with themselves.
you turned your phone on and scrolled through your missed texts when you felt a person stood behind you. you looked up and saw eren’s green eyes looking at annie and reiner.
“what a prick,” eren sighed, looking down to meet your eyes.
“it’s cool. annie’s better than me by like tenfold so i’m not really shocked,” you responded, dropping your phone in your lap.
“don’t be fuckin’ dumb, reiner’s a blind asshole. he always has been,” he comforted you. “here.”
he handed you his lit joint and you took a hesitant hit, careful not to get lipgloss all over the paper.
eren watched you as you exhaled into the air, swallowing nothing. “you good?”
you nodded, “ ‘m good.”
you guys stayed like that for a while, exchanging useless comments and smoking. eren was glad that your mood had been lifted. at some point you had ended up back in the kitchen with your group of friends, high and definitely drunk.
pieck had everyone do body shots off of her stomach and made you dance round the counter like an idiot, something you were too drunk to question.
“where’d you go?” reiner’s voice said from behind you, his arms wrapping around your shoulders.
you tensed uncomfortably, though reiner was far too gone to notice. you wriggled out of his grasp, turning around to look at him. “s-sorry, i ended up getting distracted by eren and connie.”
eren nodded at whatever words mikasa was saying, his eyes focusing on the way reiner was forcing a conversation after abandoning you to fuck around with annie.
“yaeger? what were you doing with that bastard ?” reiner said, ignoring the way you rubbed your arm rather nervously.
“n-nothing, we was jus’ talking and shi—”
“fuck that, don’t hang around with that kid,” reiner cut you off, staring at you rather annoyed.
“reiner, i’m sorry he just—”
“why shouldn’t she hang around with me ? i’d say i’m a pretty fun time,” eren said lazily, sitting on the counter beside you.
reiner glared at him, “don’t start your bullshit with me yaeger.”
“i’d say you’re starting problems with me braun, tellin’ pretty girls they should steer clear,” he responded.
eren looked unbothered whereas reiner had become rather agitated.
he ignored reiner, turning to you, “wanna go some where else ?”
you looked at reiner then at eren before nodding, following his lead and taking his hand as he lead you somewhere else.
“fuckin’ hell. rei just got his bitch stolen by yaeger,” porco muttered, reiner still heard it.
“you good princess?” eren mumbled, the sound of his door clicking shut.
“mhm, thank you,” you responded from his desk, untying your heels as he pushed himself up on his bed.
“for what?” he asked pointedly, his eyes locking with yours.
“the reiner thing—”
“anybody with working brain cells could see that you were uncomfortable, i was just helping out,” he dismissed, his hands resting behind his head.
you nodded, holding eye contact with him. the room went silent, the only sound being the tapping of your acrylics against the wood of his desk.
eren sighed, patting the cover of his bedsheets. “c’mere, you too far away.”
you let out a little laugh, hopping off his desk and standing in front of him. he grabbed you by your hands and pulled you on top of him, settling yourself on his hips. he was less than bother by the sudden added weight of your own body, his hands meeting the side of your thighs.
“you really are mad pretty,” he mumbled, squeezing the fat of your thighs that was closer to your ass.
you exhaled, turning your head to try and hide your smile. he grabbed your face and turned it back to him, his eyes hooded with lust.
you stared at him and your eyes dropped to his lips and unfortunately for you, he didn’t miss it. you took a deep breath and leaned forward, encasing eren’s lips in yours.
his hands instantly moved to your ass, squeezing roughly. he kissed you back hard, pushing his hips upwards.
your hands travelled to the back of his hair, your acrylics burying themselves in the nape of his neck. he sat up properly so he could flip you over, a shear display of his strength.
he bit at the bottom of your lip, taking advantage of the whine you let out to slip his tongue into your mouth. his hands wondered down the front of your top, though he pulled away, inspecting your face.
“why’d you stop ?” you mumbled, your eyes darting towards his swollen lips.
“nothin’, just checking to see if you’re actually sober. you alright with this though ?” he asked and you nodded eagerly, tugging at his hoodie.
he laughed. “you’re a desperate thing aren’t you.”
“eren, please,” you mumbled, pulling him forwards with more force.
“fuck. whatever you want princess,” he groaned, grabbing you by the neck and pulling you into a deeper kiss than before.
you moaned quietly as he untied the front of your shirt, revealing your lacy white bra.
“please tell me you weren’t wearing this for reiner,” he begged, rubbing on your tits.
you shook your head. “thank fuck for that.”
he pulled your skirt off, revealing your matching set, throwing the skirt somewhere in his room.
“fuck sake, y/n,” he muttered, eyes trailing the whole of your body.
you tugged at his zipper, “off, i want it off.”
he unzipped his hoodie with a chuckle, removing his shirt too, revealing his muscles. “makin’ demands now ?”
you rolled your eyes and pulled him back in for another heated kiss, your hands trailing down his body and palming his dick through his grey bottoms. he groaned, kissing you harder as you continued to stroke his growing hard-on through the material.
he pulled away and began kissing down your neck, leaving deep hickies as he went down, kissing all the way down your stomach till he got to the top of your lace thong.
he made eye contact with you as he placed a light kiss on your cover clit, watching as your mouth slightly dropped open. he pulled your panties down, stuffing them in his pocket whilst he rubbed on your clit with slow circles.
“you’re so fuckin’ wet for me right now angel. did you know that?” he asked, continuing with his agonisingly slow circles.
“mm fuck, eren, please—” you whined, your hands gripping his sheets.
“please what princess?” he teased, watching your body squirm under his touch.
you whined even louder. “fuck, i want more—” you cut yourself off with a shallow moan as he dipped his middle finger inside of you briefly before pulling it out.
“more what?” he teased.
you looked at him with round glossy eyes, “please eat me out.”
“that’s all you had to say princess,” he laughed, finally giving you what you wanted.
his tongue made contact with your clit and he licked eagerly, making his middle and ring finger stretch you out nicely.
“gotta make sure this pretty pussy is ready for my dick hm,” he mumbled on your clit, sucking on it roughly.
you babbled incoherent sentences, scratching as far as your hands could reach down his shoulders. your moans gradually increased in volume as his slender fingers worked your insides deliciously, finding that soft spot your own couldn’t reach with ease.
“f-fuck eren— feels so fuckin’ good,” you moaned gripping on his sheets harder.
just as you could feel your orgasm approaching, you could feel your phone vibrate beside you.
pieck was calling you, your thighs began to close but eren forced them back open. “answer it.”
“b-but—”
“i said answer it and be quiet.”
you looked at him before doing as he said, his fingers working harder than before.
“y/nnnn! where did you gooooo?” pieck shouted down the phone.
“i-i went with— mm-fuck, eren—” you struggled, pulling at eren’s hand.
“to do whatttt? you guys are missing the party” she yelled, giggling shortly after.
you struggled to hold back a moan as eren sucked more feverishly on your clit, “ ‘m s-sorry pie’, w-we’ll be — fuckfuck— we’ll be b-back soon.”
pieck stayed silent on the other side for a moment. “ohmygodyouanderenarefucking?!”
eren laughed, the vibrations on your clit causing you to let a loud whine slip past your mouth, one pieck definitely heard.
“OHMYGOD YOU ARE! GUYSGUYS EREN AND Y/N ARE—”
you hung up on her and threw your phone on the floor some where, focusing back on eren. “that is y-your fault.”
he pulled up and looked at you, the lower half of his face covered in your slick. “i told you to be quiet princess.”
you rolled your eyes as he continued finger fucking you, his tongue slipping to your hole every now and again.
a strange feeling built up in your stomach, making you push him away by his shoulders. “mm— eren wait, f-feels like ‘m gonna—”
his dick twitched at the thought of you squirting from him eating your pussy, so he pushed your hands away. “stop, let me finish.”
“no— eren—”
he grabbed your arms with his free hand and held them to your side, licking at your clit more needly as he could feel your cunt clenching around his fingers. “i got you princess.”
you moaned loudly and the clear liquid drenched your thighs and his sheets, eren’s fingers still working you through your orgasm.
“f-fuck, eren— please—” you moaned desperately, tears sliding down the side of your face as you tried to squeeze your thighs shut.
“give me one more, i know you can y/n,” he mumbled, pulling your thighs open as his fingers working faster, grazing your soft spot every time.
you shook your head, feeling your second orgasm approaching harder than the first one.
“fuckfuckfuck, eren please—” you came around his fingers a second time, moaning loudly.
“there you fucking go,” eren smirked, feeling your cunt squeeze him. he slipped his fingers out and kissed your clit gently before coming back up to kiss you.
“you okay princess?” he asked quietly, looking you in your eyes.
you nodded lazily, fucked out from the two orgasms he gave you. “ ‘m good.”
“good cause i’m not done with you yet,” he exhaled, kissing you again.
he pulled his bottoms down, revealing his white calvin klein boxers that hugged his straining dick.
“this is your fault,” he said mimicking the words you said to him earlier.
you ignored him and palmed at his dick, feeling it twitch under the contact. you pulled his boxers down and let it free, continuing to rub it bare.
“fuckk—” he groaned, “shit, let me get a condom—”
“i’m clean,” you interjected, “and on birth control.”
eren looked slightly taken back. “are you sure ?”
you nodded desperately, “i need you please—”
“well shit. i’m clean too don’t worry,” he reassured you.
you nodded and continued rubbing his dick.
he moaned lowly before grabbing your face, “open.”
you opened your mouth and he stuck his fingers down your throat, the same ones that had been inside you.
he pulled them out and rubbed them on his dick, mixing your spit and his pre-cum.
next time i’ll have to get head, he thinks to himself before lining his dick up with your cunt. you moan loudly as the tip slowly pushed past your pillowy walls, hugging eren tightly.
“shit—” eren cussed as he felt your nails dig into his bicep, “you’re never fuckin’ getting rid of me princess.”
he bottomed out, making you whimper. he stilled, allowing you to adjust to his length. he watched your face for any signs of discomfort before slowly moving in and out of your cunt.
“fuck eren— you feel- so good—” you babbled incoherently, clawing deep marks down his back.
he nodded, lifting your leg to put it over his shoulder to get a better angle. he increased his speed, rubbing at your clit, making you squeeze his cock.
his hips stuttered. “stop doing that, gonna make me cum.”
“i want you to cum in me though,” you said, looking at him through your lashes.
eren scoffed and went deeper, thanks to the angle his tip kept assaulting your sweet spot.
you whimpered, “fuck eren— gonna cum—”
“no you’re not. hold it,” he grunted, gripping your hips and pulling you down to meet his base.
“eren,” you whined.
his pacing slowed down, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he neared his high.
“fuck— princess, i’m gonna cum—” he muttered into your ankle, nibbling slightly.
you squeezed around him at the sensations. he let out a deep moan, his cum painting the insides of your pussy white.
you came as you felt him empty inside of you, digging a crescent shape into his back.
“f-fuck,” you mumbled, watching him pull his dick out.
you whined at the empty feeling, though eren chose to ignore it. “imma be back.”
he picked his boxers up from the floor and pulled them on, walking to his bathroom. he walked out with a warm cloth, gently wiping the insides of your thigh.
“is your back okay? i noticed all the scratches and some were kinda bleeding…” you said sympathetically.
“don’t worry about me, i’ve had worse,” he smiled.
when he finished he put it on his desk and walked back over to you, kissing you gently.
“you good princess?”
you nodded dazed, causing eren to chuckle. he pulled you up and helped you get dressed, allowing you to fix your makeup and hair.
when you left his bedroom the party was still full swing, people dancing and drinking.
“ayeee ! there they are,” porco called out, clapping eren on the back when he sat next to him.
you were about to walk off to sit with pieck and sasha when eren grabbed your hand and pulled you into his lap.
you looked at him confused when he muttered in your ear. “didn’t i tell you you’re never getting rid of me ?”
you were sure this time you were blushing, especially when he kissed the dark hickey on your neck.
“alright, we get it, you fucked, get a room,” sasha fake gagged, giggling after.
eren made eye contact with reiner. “she won’t be able to walk next time we get a room.”
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l-uminescent · 2 months
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˚⁀➷。˚GOD OF OLD VALYRIA ━━━ DAERON TARGARYEN X FEM! READER
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synopsis: cregan stark's sister (reader) is sent to king's landing in order to find a suitable marriage arrangement. after a year however, you start to lose hope at finding a betrothed. that is, until the king announces the arrival of his youngest son daeron targaryen.
notes: hello! i have yet to see many daeron one shots or fics so i’ve decided to try. and as usual, i have aged him up to about 19/20. requests are also welcome bc i’m running out of ideas 😭
warnings: don’t think there is any apart from my rusty writing bc i have not written anything in years and most likely some spelling mistakes
word count: 1.8k
BEING CREGAN STARK'S YOUNGER SISTER PROVED ITSELF TO BE BOTH A BLESSING AND A CURSE. with the death of his wife arra, and being left with a son to raise by himself cregan struggled to find the time to find a suitable suitor to have as your lord husband as you came of age. the result of this, meant you being sent off to king's landing in hopes that the queen  consort, could provide help with finding you a husband. it's not like you minded being sent off to the capital, you were keen to explore the south after having lived in the north for the entirety of your life. but after being in the red keep for almost a year, you were becoming less and less confident at the queen's promise to your brother that she would find you a betrothed.
however, that was all soon to change with the arrival of daeron targaryen from oldtown.
it was his elder brother aemond, who informed you of daeron's arrival from oldtown after having been sent away years ago to squire for the hightower family. despite aemond's  intimidating aura and the obvious anger he holds within, you two often found solace with each other in the library as it appeared neither of you had many friends around the castle. tucked away, reading books on the history of the north, and that of the previous targaryen kings and queens, aemond often sat near, as he too enjoyed your presence as much you he.
today, he explained that there was to be a feast held in the throne room, at daeron's arrival as he had not been in the red keep for quite some time. your presence was to be required at the feast for some reason unbeknownst to you (but not to aemond's, who was aware of his mother's plotting).
rushing back to your chambers after waving your friend goodbye and thanking him for the information he told, your stomach began to knot as the feeling of nervousness took hold. you had heard stories of the youngest targaryen, of his beauty, how his silver hair fell shorter than his brothers, barely covering his eyes. you often heard gossip that the price frequently made the girls of the realm swoon if they were to ever encounter the boy in oldtown. if the rumours that circled around the red keep were to be believed, than it was also said that daeron targaryen was the most popular of the king and queen's sons. as well as his beauty, you had heard that he was an outspoken and witty boy, a skilled swordsman and returned the kindness that was given to him.
brushing away these thoughts, you began to wash  and paint you face with many creams and serums, until doting yourself as presentable to the targaryen family. you called on a maid to help you with your hair and dress. no matter the time you spent in the south, you were never one to forget your northern roots which often reflected in the clothes you wore and the hairstyle that adorned your head. black dire wolves, were subtly sewn onto your grey dress, a direct nod at your stark lineage, showing how proud you were of it and your hair was twisted and braided until it reflected that of what you so commonly wore in winterfell.
as the maid finished helping you ready, the nervous feeling once again made home in the pit of your stomach. deciding it was time to make your  way to the feast, your hands found themselves fidgeting with the rings on your fingers that were lovingly gifted to you by your mother father and brother, (family heirlooms that once again showed your pride of the north) in an attempt to calm your anxiety.
you still could not fathom where this sudden wave of nervousness came from. you had met the other two targaryen boys, even the three velayrons that had moved away to dragonstone a mere week after your arrival,  and this skittish demeanour was nowhere to be found back then.
taking a deep shaky breath and swallowing, willing your hands to stop fidgeting you walked through the doors to where the feast was to be held, making a beeline straight to where you usually sat. ignoring the piercing glare of a pair of indigo eyes that you were unused to, you bowed to the king and queen before taking your seat, still refusing to meet  the eyes that looked upon you intently.
"it is my greatest pleasure to announce the return of my youngest son daeron" king viserys announced. even in his sickly state the pride he had for his youngest son was not mistaken, making it painstakingly obvious who the favourite child was (second to rhaeynra of course.)
as he continued, you could not help but notice the soft look alicent had gave you. you had heard the rumours of how unkind the woman was before your arrival yet, she did everything in her power to make you feel comfortable during your stay. almost as if this was her second shot at motherhood.
you did not need to wonder for long what she had meant by the look this time before viserys continued his speech. "and to announce his betrothal to the lady of house stark."
at that moment you did not care if the shock in your face was evident  as your mind raced at a hundred miles an hour at the news. feeling your heart pump faster, a bright crimson appear on your cheeks as the entire table had turned to look at you. the  embarrassment at the attention you faced had soon turned to rage at the thought of your brother cregan not warning you of the news to have allowed yourself to mentally prepare. you cursed your brother for that. yet it soon faded and was once again replaced with anxiety as you remembered the boy beside you was the man you were now betrothed to.
you could not help the thought of this being failing marriage, one that was doomed from the start. your northern customs differed heavily from that of the royals in the south and you were afraid that it would offend your betrothed. you barely knew the man, there was no telling that he was as kind as you had heard, for all you knew one simple argument and he could feed you to his beloved dragon tessarion.
willing yourself to calm down, you took a shaky breathe before twisting your head to the side, finally allowing yourself to look at the boy that had been the cause for your nerves the past few hours. you had to hand it to the gossips of the court, the boy was handsome. with a sharp jawline and piercing indigo eyes staring into your plain ones you felt your face heat as his eyes continued to hold yours. taking in his features you noted that his hair, fell perfectly to his eyebrows, and a small scar ran down the left side of his lip. he was absolutely mesmerising. you had always been skeptical at the idea of targaryen's being closer to gods than men, but in that moment you believed.
daeron targaryen looked as if he was a god from old, straight from valyria.
you found the knot in your stomach grow and tension find it's home in your shoulders at this revelation as you struggled for words to say to your betrothed,  feeling unworthy in the presence of true targaryen beauty. your belief of the old gods wavering in favour of the valyrian ones, every time your eyes caught his.
you only prayed he was as kind as he was good looking.
━━━━━━━━━━ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━━━━━
"mother, i will accompany lady stark back to her room." it wasn't until the meal had ended when you had heard his voice for the first time. if you weren't nervous before than by the  gods you were now. with your heart rate elevated your fingers found the rings adorning your hands again, fiddling with them as you stood to be guided back to your chambers by the youngest prince. his voice perfectly matching the god like features of his face, melting like honey as every syllable reached you ear. you were truly enamoured with the targaryen boy.
with a bow to both the king and queen you and daeron had left, an awkward silence following as the words you wanted to say dying on your tongue every time you glanced out the corner of your eye at him. once again, blood rushed to your cheeks as the boy turned to you. "you don't have to be scared of me you know, my lady." he smirked. by the love of the gods, you prayed the answer that left your mouth did not make the embarrassment you felt worsen.
"i believe i have a right to my fear, my prince, seeing as your dragon lays only a hill away from where we stand."
at this, daeron let out a laugh, wondering where the shyness from the feast had gone. "well my lady, tessarion isn't as scary as she seems. maybe one day we shall go out riding."
"i would like that indeed my prince." you returned, smiling at the thought of him allowing you to meet his most precious creature. you had always wondered what a dragon had looked like up close, let alone to ride. the mere suggestion of it showed that maybe this marriage wasn't doomed after all. "well here is my chambers. thank you for walking me back."
the two of you turned to face each other now, allowing you to take in the entirety of his face. and by gods you were even more starstruck than before. in the torch lit corridor of the red keep, he seemed even prettier — truly a god of old valyria.
"goodnight my lady." daeron breathed out, seemingly as entranced as you were with him. the piercing indigo roaming about your entire face as he believed you would disappear if he even for a moment looks away. he had encountered many beautiful strangers in his time at oldtown, had read many history books that described creatures as beautiful as gods and angels. yet no matter how many detailed accounts he had read of valyria, how enchanting those who had lived before the doom were, and how he had inherited this fairness from his ancestors , in that moment he swore he had never met anyone as more beautiful as you. how you took pride in where you came from with the northern rings and stitching on your dress. how your hair was held with clips that were clearly heirlooms of the stark family. he was in awe.
"goodnight my prince." you whispered, pressing a small tender kiss to the side of his porcelain skin before turning to your chambers.
to daeron targaryen, you too were a god of old valyria
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peachysunrize · 23 days
Text
[TANGERINE DREAMS]
Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.
Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity
Warnings: none! Fluff, angst, tension! English isn’t my first language<3
Word count: 5.4k+
A/n: so so sorry for the delay… unfortunately I’m gonna be awfully busy this week so the next chapter might be also delayed😭 buttttttt hopefully this chapter will make up for it! Reblogs & comments are always appreciated <3
Taglist: if you wanna be tagged in the future chapters, please fill this form with your username!
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Chapter 4: push & pull
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“I’m hungry!”
“Shh!” You put your finger on Helaena’s lips to keep her quiet, “you ate all of our snacks! How are you still hungry?”
“I don’t knowwww,” she whines, dropping her head back on your lap as you resume the movie, “I need sweets!”
“It’s three in the morning, I doubt you want to wake up the entire house just to find a chocolate bar,” you thread your fingers through her soft and freshly showered silver hair.
“Babe,” she turns around, reaching for the control to pause the movie before she looks up at you, “why do you think we live in a mansion in the first place?”
“Because you have billions of money and have no idea what to do with it?” You ask, chuckling and rolling your eyes affectionately when she slaps your arm, “as if there is another reason behind it.”
“Of course there is!” She sits up, plopping a pillow next to yours as she sits shoulder to shoulder with you, “Aemond is an awfully light sleeper, so is Mum! Aegon would even sleep through… I don’t know, imagine Michael Jackson screaming in a mic and putting the amplifier next to his ear. Daeron is the best, heavy sleeper but his survival instinct would save him from anything. Me—“
“You don’t sleep at all,” she gawks at you before laughing, “What? You think I don’t know my best friend like the back of my hand? Or why we’re watching The Dance of Dragons trilogy at this god-awful hour? I’m offended!”
She pushes you playfully, “That’s not what I meant! You’re right, I don’t sleep much, but that’s not the point. I’m saying living in a mansion is quite cool because we put Mum and Aemond at the back of the building and chose our rooms afterward. So if you sneak into the kitchen…”
“I’m not gonna sneak there and shuffle around your cabinets like a fucking thief, Hel!” 
“It’s literally your home too! You’ve been here a thousand times, no one would bat an eye if they catch you going through Aegon’s snacks!” She says, pouting a bit as she gives you her best puppy eyes, “One bag of his gummy bears, just one!”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No,” you glare at her, scoffing immediately when she gives you her most precious smile.
“Yes, please?”
“Absolutely fucking not,” you hiss, “Besides, I have no clue which cabinet I should search for.”
“The one next to the stove—“
“Helaena!”
“Please please please, I will take a walk with you in the morning—“
“I’m not dumb, why should going on a walk with you be anywhere near interesting?” You ask, crossing your arms on your chest as you give her a pointing look.
“Because… because I can take you shopping! You know, Aegon will probably give a theme for his party so what better reason than to go on a girl’s date and buy some clothes?!”
“No, and no—“
“One bag, that’s all I’m asking!”
“Fine!” She squeals in joy, “but you will make it up to me, you giant twenty-seven-year-old kid. And shopping is the least you can do.”
“Okay, babe, whatever you want! I can even set you up with one of Aegon’s friends—“
“I'll take the walk, please! Keep those boys away from me,” You stand up from the bed, shaking your head before you slowly turn the doorknob, and before you step out, you look at her and shake your head when you see her lying on the bed with her hands under her chin.
You look at the empty hallway, checking to see if anyone is around or not before walking downstairs, tiptoeing to make sure you wake up no one. Gripping the stair bars, you relax a bit when the wooden stairs don’t make a loud cracking sound.
The path to the kitchen is quiet and empty, but with the numerous vases and other home decor Alicent has put around the house, it’s hard to move around without breaking something or making a loud noise. You have been here many times, but the paintings and various pieces they have will always surprise you; they are so beautiful, and you expect nothing less from the Targaryens.
You finally reach the kitchen, slowly making your way towards the stove to find the cabinet or a drawer — because only those are next to the stove — Helaena told you about. Pulling the first drawer out, you find nothing but forks and spoons, nothing near a good snack, unfortunately. The next one contains spices and herbs, arranged neatly in jars with labels.
“What are you doing here?”
“Fucking hell!” You scream and turn around, hand on your chest as you look at Aemond who is equally surprised to see you here at such an hour, “you scared the shit out of me!”
“Shh…” he approaches you slowly, reaching to take your hand in his to calm you down, “I’m sorry, I thought you heard me, or even saw me.”
“How could I see you? My back was to you!” You exhale shakily, letting him take your hands in his larger ones, slowly caressing your skin, “what are you doing here? Creeping on me like that?”
“I was in the kitchen when you walked in,” he says, his lips twisting in a small smirk as he sees your lips part in shock.
“How did I not see you?” You gawk at him, laughing breathlessly, “You’re a giraffe, tall as fuck and your hair shines like a flashlight! Were you hiding?”
“No, no,” he steps closer, chuckling lowly to not make so much sound, your hands still in his, “I was searching for a cutting board.”
“What?” You smile a bit, looking up at him as he towers over you, “I’m really curious now.”
“No, you’re just nosy,” he smirks when he sees you open your mouth to disagree, but you catch on his teasing tone quickly and bat his hands away.
“Asshole.”
“I’m kidding,” with a kiss on the back of your hand, he moves past you to put the cutting board on the kitchen island, “I missed dinner and couldn’t sleep either so…”
“You wanna cook dinner? Now?” you ask him, rounding the island to stand close to him, “You are crazy!”
“I’m hungry,” he groans, shaking his head as he moves to another cabinet and pulls out a pot to fill it with water.
“What is up with you Targaryens being hungry at such an hour?” You lean on the counter, watching him put the full pot on the stove, taking your time to look at him from head to toe.
He is wearing a loose black T-shirt, with gray sweatpants that stay low on his hip bones. His silver hair is clipped and his glasses are on the bridge of his nose — he looks so cozy and welcoming, and he most certainly glides across the room so effortlessly, pulling out different ingredients to chop.
“What did Hel want anyway?” He asks, pulling out an onion and placing it on the cutting board next to you, leaning just like you with his hips on the counter.
“How did you know she wanted something?” You ask, crossing your arms.
“I doubt you’d come and snoop around for Aegon.”
“Why not?” You raise an eyebrow at him, taking a step closer to him, “Maybe I was in his room, what then—“
“No,” he whispers, putting the knife down before he puts one hand on each side of your hips, the heel of his palm on the dip between where your thighs meet your hips and his fingers against the kitchen island — not gripping you fully, but enough to make you tremble slightly, especially with the way he looks at you, so raw and playful, “you wouldn’t allow him to make a single flirty comment, and you want me to believe that you just left his room?”
“What if I have changed my mind?” You look up at him through your lashes, voice barely above whispering, “Maybe I have fallen for his Targaryen charm?”
“The only Targaryen charm you’ll fall for is—”
“Babeee!” suddenly Helaena’s hushed whisper echoes in the kitchen
Your eyes widen and in the blink of an eye, you push Aemond away and move to the cabinet Helaena told you about earlier, trying to make yourself look busy while Aemond puts his palms on top of the island, leaning down a bit as he sighs, his face forming into a deep scowl as he watches his sister tiptoe into the kitchen.
“Oh, hey, Aemy,” she waves at him, finally finding you crouched down next to the cabinet, “What’s taking you so long?”
“I couldn’t find the cabinet—” “It’s the one you are sitting in front of,” she says, smiling as she looks at her brother reaching for the knife, “and what are you doing here?”
“I was hungry,” he mutters, slicing the onion in half, “What do you want?”
“My promised gummy bears and a glass of water,” she shrugs and walks to grab her glass and you take the chance to stand up with her snack, standing side by side with Aemond, both of you following Helaena’s movements as she hums happily and fills her glass with water.
You glance at Aemond, catching him already looking at you with an unreadable expression that makes the hair on the back of your neck rise. Averting your eyes quickly, you watch Hel making her way to you before she gives you a quick hug.
“I’m going to bed, we will finish them another day.” “Sure, love,” you smile, “I’ll go to bed in a few minutes too, goodnight!”
“Goodnight,” Aemond says quietly, moving towards the boiling water on the stove before he drops uncooked spaghetti in it and walks back to the cutting board.
“What are you cooking?” 
“Penne alla vodka,” he replies, smirking when you roll your eyes at him.
“Of course, typical classy Aemond,” you say, groaning a bit because of how tired you are, “your sister is a menace for keeping me up so long. I can’t even stand on my feet!”
“Then you don’t have to stand,” he says casually, wiping his hands with the cloth hanging from the waistband of his sweats. He moves closer to you, backing you up against the kitchen island with a teasing look in his good eye, his hands coming up to grip your waist and before you know it, he picks you up effortlessly and sits you on the island, his fingers digging into your flesh.
You swallow, bracing yourself by your hands on his chest as you look at Aemond, finding him standing closer to you between your legs, his eye focusing solely on your face — how your lips part with a quiet gasp falling from them, how your pupils are blown with something he can’t read quite well. 
You are a vision to behold.
He leans closer, his face mere inches away from yours, his hot breath fanning against your face. You inhale sharply when he cranes his neck and his nose bumps into yours, his hooded eye hazy as he stares at you.
His grip tightens on your waist, and you feel his fingers caressing your back and the side of your tummy slowly, almost shyly, but with his lips only one breath, you know there is no shyness left within him, only determination.
As soon as he wants to lean down and capture your lips in a breathtaking kiss, the pasta in the oven is long overcooked and the boiling water pours out, making a loud hissing sound that makes Aemond break apart from you.
“Shit,” he groans, the warmth of his hand gone from your waist as he jogs to the stove and lifts the pot to empty the remaining water of the pasta, cursing himself in his head with how careless he acted — not only he nearly ruined your friendship but also his late dinner will taste like an uncooked dough.
“I-I think I should go to bed,” you stutter, jumping down from the island, smiling awkwardly at him, “goodnight.”
“Yeah, goodnight,” he watches you leave in a hurry, running a hand down his face — mindful of his glasses — he sighs loudly, “What the fuck was I thinking?”
If only he knew the answer to this.
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“Okay kids, listen up!” Aegon claps his hands, stepping on top of the huge table in the guest wing’s living room, trying his best to give the four of you — six if you count Criston and Alicent — a very very pointed, dramatic and serious look, “tonight, we will drink!”
He points at Daeron and Aemond who are each holding two bottles of whatever drinks, or poison to put it better, Aegon has chosen to feed you tonight.
“Tonight, we will dance!” He points at Helaena who rolls her eyes and presses play on her phone so the music blasts through the amplifiers around the house but quickly pauses it so Aegon can talk.
“Annnnndddd!” He jumps down, striding towards you with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. He grabs you by your waist, twirls you around suddenly, and dips you down on his arm before he leans down, “We will have fun!” He leans to kiss you, but you put your palm on his face and push him away roughly, laughing out loud with him when you make a gagging sound.
���Get away from me you moron!”
“I’m sure my kisses would make you feel much better—”
“I rather die than have your tongue down my throat,” you stand behind Aemond, and when Aegon sees how hard his brother is glaring at him, he whistles and wiggles his eyebrows at the two of you — Aemond blushes horribly and you only give a tight-lipped awkward smile.
“Alright!” Alicent says, walking towards the table Aegon was standing up to fix the tablecloth, “I know you’ll take care of everything, but—” she looks at Aegon, “no drugs,” she then turns to Daeron and Helaena, “No sneaking out of the house,” then she looks at Aemond, “no goddamn books!” “I don’t even read that much,” Aemond sighs, putting the vanilla vodka bottles on the table before he crosses his arms, “I haven’t had the time to read even one book.” “I don’t care, Aemond. No books, no workshop, no merging with the darkness and sulking in a corner of this house. Okay?”
“Yes, Mum, I get it,” he agrees, turning around to glance at you, only for you to give him an encouraging smile.
“Now that we’re all settled,” Aegon reaches and throws his arm around Alicent’s shoulder, “take out dinner, obviously—”
“What do you mean ‘take out’? I didn’t hire a chef for you to say you’ll get our guests nasty food,” Alicent frees herself from Aegon, giving him one last look before she moves with Cole on toe towards the exit, “Also, the catering will be here soon, if you wanna help, you’ll need to wait a bit for them.” “Did you hear that?” Aegon asks, eyes wide and a very large grin finds its way on his face.
“Billionaires have such a hard life, I pity you guys,” You say sarcastically, “what’s up with these faces? You don’t like having a private chef?”
“Babe,” Helaena comes and grabs your hand, “This means Mum really wants us to party! She only gets this generous when she wants us to have fun.” “A private chef is a pretty great thing,” Aemond shrugs, grabbing yet another two bottles of vanilla vodka with a grimace on his face and putting them down next to the other two.
“No shit Sherlock! Of course, it’s amazing! Who wouldn’t want a fresh plate of ribs in the middle of a partially illegal party?” he chuckles at you, nodding at the catering that finally arrived, putting his warm palm on your waist.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I am always in charge of dinner because these three,” he points at his siblings, “get absolutely hammered and won’t be able to order takeout.”
“I knew Helaena would get drunk if she set her mind to it but Daeron?” you ask leaning closer to his side, looking up at him, and occasionally glancing at the other three siblings who are helping the catering staff with the food and drinks.
“He is a mixed… combination of all of us,” he chuckles, his nails digging into your waist as he scratches your skin under your shirt gently, lit the fire of the memory of a few hours ago you shared, “He doesn’t drink much but when he does… well, rest assured he gets as bad and loud as Aegon.”
“I’ve been here countless times but never seen him acting like an idiot,” you laugh, walking to grab the closest tray to help with the setting. Aemond does the same and follows you around the room quietly, making small talk with you until everything is set and ready for the party.
You and him walk forward, and for the first time he doesn’t guide you with his hand on your back, and you see how he is pondering hard about something.
“He wanted to really kiss you,” he whispers for only you to hear. You stop and a soft yet confused expression overtakes your face as you look at him, waiting for him to continue.
“What?” “Aegon,” he says, “he likes you, maybe he would have gotten away with it if you let him kiss you.”
“Aemond, don’t be ridiculous,” you grab his wrist gently, forcing him to stop, “I said it once, I’ll say it again; I don’t like Aegon romantically, and I would rather die than let him get close to my face.”
He doesn’t look too convinced, so with one glance at your back to see where your best friend and the rest of her siblings are, you hold his other hand in yours as well, “Besides, I would rather kiss another Targ—” “Go find some clothes, kids! It’s a white party!” Aegon announces, and Helaena suddenly appears out of nowhere and wraps her arms around you, making you let go of Aemond’s hands immediately.
“Come on, babe! Let’s go get ready!” you don’t have time to finish your sentence so with one last look at Aemond, you leave with Hel towards your rooms to get ready.
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Aemond pulls shirt after shirt out of his closet, all of them are either black or dark green and those who are colorful are blue. Nothing. He can’t find anything to wear and it has started to annoy him.
He sits on the edge of his bed, his hair unruly and in need of a good brush but that can wait. His outfit on the other hand can’t, and the fact that Aegon’s guests will arrive in a few minutes is driving him crazy. 
With a loud annoyed groan, he stands up and moves toward his hung clothes, searching through them, but again, all he can find is a pair of white sneakers that thankfully will go with any outfit he chooses.
He sighs, running a hand through his hair as he tries to think of any Shirts or pants he can find, but he is interrupted by a knock on his door.
“Hey,” you open the door a bit, smiling at him before slipping inside, but before you can stop yourself, your eyes roam over his topless figure leaning over the closet with his sweat hanging low on his hips.
Aemond is even worse than you; seeing you in a white sundress with sheer sleeves that hung low on your shoulders and the dress reaching your mid-thighs… he is speechless. His eye roams over your figure slowly, taking in the sight of you.
He can see how you get shy all of a sudden, caressing your arm as he literally looks you up and down.
“How do I look?” you ask, twirling to show the back of the dress as well.
“Wow,” breathtaking, gorgeous, mindblowing, earth-shattering, “Beautiful,” you make his heart nearly leap out of his chest, his cheeks turning pink as he gazes at you like a teen boy experiencing his first high school crush.
“Thank you!” you smile, rocking on your feet, “Why aren’t you dressed?”
“Well,” he clears his throat, “I couldn’t find anything.”
“Bullshit!”
“Excuse me?” he asks hesitantly, watching you curiously as you make your way to his wardrobe, standing in front of him to search within his clothes yourself.
“You wore those white shorts to the winery, hmmm, let me see—” You pull out a white shirt with baggy pants, both enough to make him much taller than he is, but he has to agree that the simplicity might actually look great, “here you go! But let me brush your hair first!”
You sit him down on the bed, crawling behind him with a brush and a hair tie you found on his vanity desk before you start slowly combing through his soft hair, detangling and making it look more presentable. 
He relaxes under your touch and lets you pull the front of his hair back and tie it so his face is shown more. He sighs and thanks you when you’re done, and to his surprise, you grab the shirt from him, forcing him to stand up to help him put it on, leaving the first few buttons undone before you do the rest slowly.
“Were you jealous?” You ask, letting your fingers brush over his pale chest, “When you saw Aegon wanted to kiss me?”
He swallows but as soon as you are done he pulls away and holds the pants up, signaling for you to leave so he can change, and you do but wait for him outside until he is ready.
“Maybe,” he says as you loop your arm through his, both of you walking toward the guest wing. You can already hear the blasting hip hop song Aegon is playing, the sounds of screaming and singing already filling the entire mansion.
“Really?” You ask quietly, letting go of his hand as soon as you reach the door, finding a few of Aegon’s friends around.
“I don’t know, I said maybe,” he moves away from you with one last smirk and enters the party. The smell of alcohol, cigarette, and smoke fills his lungs, and soon spots Daeron and Aegon mixing cocktails and handing them to the guests. Helaena is busy talking to an old friend of his, Cregan Stark, and she is all blushy and giggly while she sips on her drink — he makes a mental note to check up on her regularly.
“Here is our boyyyy!” One of Aegon’s friends screams and throws his arm around Aemond’s shoulders, shaking him as everyone erupts in joy and laughter, a shot of whiskey is thrusted into his hands and everyone is suddenly encouraging him to drown the drink in one go.
“Come on, Aemy! Don’t be a fucking pussy!” Aegon screams over the music, and with one final sigh, he brings the glass to his lips and empties the drink down his throat, making everyone around him scream and clap him on the back before they start shouting for another shot, which Daeron pours for him and as the first one, he drowns it again.
“That’s my fucking brother!” Aegon suddenly jumps onto an empty table, completely topless with two bottles of vodka in his hands as he screams and cheers for Aemond while holding the bottles up.
“He is so fucking insane!” Daeron shakes his head when Aegon starts rolling his hips to the music, his silver hair covered in sweat and possibly alcohol as he flexes his abs and chest for the girls.
“He is disgusting,” Aemond sighs, watching amusedly as Aegon jumps down and wraps his arms around two girls, moving to dance with them while their hands wander all over his body.
Aemond looks around and finds you and Helaena on the dance floor, clearly drunk out of your mind with how you are laughing and moving around. He drowns the rest of his drink before he sneaks out of the party, moving outside toward his workshop to clear his head, but before that, he goes back to the main building and grabs a bottle of water to sober up.
He finds Vhagar already waiting for him at the entrance, wiggling her tail when she notices Aemond. He crouches down to pet her softly, scratching behind her ears and kissing her furs before he stands up and moves to the backyard, his old lady following him quickly.
On their way to the workshop, they find Aegon and the two girls sneaking upstairs, making out with one while the other caresses his skin. Aemond rolls his eye in disgust as he moves past them, finding a pair of heels on the ground as she enters the small wood attached to their yard after where the Weirwood tree is.
He walks further inside the woods, following the path he once walked with you which leads to his workshop, Vhagar happily accompanies him there, even jogging and running past him numerous times to show her enthusiasm — she just loves being around him.
He notices a shadow in the workshop, moving around clumsily as it touches and picks different things up. He thinks it might be one of Aegon’s dumbass friends, wandering around their house drunk and exhausted. But how did someone, anyone find the key to unlock the door?
He opens the door, catching you of all the people snooping around his stuff, smiling when you find a pretty seven-pointed star keychain with Alicent’s name carved under it — he remembers when he made that. He was only seventeen, and he had moved past that amateur phase and got a grip on the woodwork and different types of it. What better way to celebrate his Mum’s birthday than gifting her something he made from scratch?
“Hey you,” he says slowly, not wanting to frighten you like he did this morning, “And what are you exactly doing here?”
“Look who’s here,” you turn around opening your arms, burping as you talk, showing how good Aegon’s cocktail must have been to get you this giddy, “sorry, Little nerd! I saw this really really pretty place and couldn’t help myself! Isn’t it strange that no one uses here? Urgh, what I would do to stay here.”
“Alright, darling, don’t pout,” he slowly reaches to grab your arm so you don’t trip over anything and fall down, “How did you get in here?”
“Did you just—” you gasp, letting him pull you to his side, “did you just call me darling?”
“Yes, I did,” he nods, keeping you secure on your feet before he offers you the water bottle, urging you to drink from it, “have this, clearly you need it more than I do.”
“What a gentleman! Thank you,” you say, taking a large sip after he helps you open the bottle, the cold water makes you feel slightly better so you drink the rest too, not sobering up completely but enough to remember where you are and who you are with and more importantly remember what you are doing.
“So, how did you get in here?” Aemond asks again, taking the empty bottle from you before tossing it for Vhagar, who happily claws at the plastic, jumping on it before she takes it outside to bury it somewhere — which Aemond would need to find later.
“Found a spare key under that vase,” you pointed at the vase outside his door on the floor, “You are not as slick as you think, Aemond, calling me darling and everything.”
“Do you want me to stop calling you that?” he asks playfully, watching you bite your lips in response, shaking your head slightly, “then I guess I won’t.”
You look around the workshop and find a wooden pallet with half a portrait carved on it. The lines are oddly familiar, a woman perhaps because of the details put in the jaw, and the hair looks so delicate and soft.
“Wow, Aemond…” You free yourself from his arms and move to take a closer look at the half-done wooden portrait, “Did you make this?”
“Yes…” he answers, rubbing the back of his neck in shame or perhaps anxiousness, because what if you recognize who the person is? All of his efforts will be in vain. What will you think of him? A boy with nothing better than observing women? A pervert?
“This is fascinating!” you keep looking at the wooden pallet but something catches your eye; a printed black and white picture of the person’s portrait, but before you can reach for it, Aemond grabs your forearm and pulls you away roughly.
You gasp as he pulls you between him and the desk the portrait and all of his stuff are on. His breathing is frantic, and his long fingers hold your forearm tight enough not to hurt you.
You look up at him, lips parted, a scene too familiar — this morning, so close to each other, one mingling breath away yet too far — but there is a fire burning within him, a newfound determination that makes his heart beat faster and his hands shake.
He is not a weak mean, quite the contrary, but when he looks down at you, catching how your gaze falls on his lips… he is no better than any other man.
He leans down a little, the sounds of the outside world fading away as he moves his face closer, and he notices how you slowly twist your arm out of his grasp, only to move them toward his chest, and he takes the sign and reaches to hold you by your waist, his nose bumping into yours as the distance between you decreases
You smell so sweet, like strawberry on a whipped cream once Aegon fed him when he was feeling down. It’s sweet but not too much to have him run away, to shy away from such a delicious taste. Will your lips taste the same if he musters the courage to just move down a bit and finds it by himself?
“Aemond…” One whisper of his name is all it takes for his restraint to shatter into a million pieces, and finally, finally, he leans down enough to capture your lips in a quick kiss. Both of you waiting for waited breath to see who will lean in, give in, and take what they want
Both, you both lean in, meeting each other halfway as your lips meet in a chaste messy kiss.
You taste so sweet just as he thought, but not just a strawberry tooth rooting sweet, no. you taste like a fresh cold morning breeze on a summer day, you feel like a cold shower after an exhausting day — so refreshing, so… so much like home. As if he has only found the solace he has been seeking with Alys for so long but something has always been amiss, but with you… oh, one kiss is enough for him to know how wrong he was.
You tangle your fingers through his hair, and he takes the chance to sit you on the desk, but by doing so, he knocks a little vase on the ground, and you freeze.
You pull away from the kiss, muttering his name but he doesn’t let you say anything before he seals his lips to yours in an endearing kiss. But you push him away by putting your hands on his chest, making enough room for you to talk.
“Aemond, we can’t—” “What do you mean we can’t?” He asks, panicking a little but you manage to ease his mind with a quick kiss, “What do you mean, darling?” He asks again, voice barely above whispering.
“I don’t want to be your rebound…” you pull him down enough so his forehead rests on yours, “I don’t want to be the person who you fuck just after you’ve been dumped.”
“You’re… you’re not that, you will never be that! Alys—“
“Alys… you’re still not over her, Little nerd,” you caress his cheek lovingly, pressing a gentle kiss on the apple of his cheek before you push him away and put a great distance between the two of you, and with teasr in your eyes you say one last sentence and leave.
“You still love Alys.”
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coffee-and-geto · 2 months
Text
“HEY, MISTER POLICEMAN I DON’T WANT NO TROUBLE !”
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“Why you wanna holla at me?”
❖ pairing: policeman! suguru geto x f!reader
❖ summary: unfortunately for you, poor poor criminal, you’re getting arrested by a hot policeman. he’s about to handcuff you when your compliant good girl behaviour prompts him to be more lenient with you. fulfilling his duty as a peace officer, he must take you as quickly as possible to his office at the police precinct for a full interrogation about your crime — just as full as it will be with your pussy!
❖ warnings: +18, smut, nsfw, mention of murder/blood (there’s none), tying up, improper use of handcuffs, dirty talk, semi-public sex, semi-exhibitionism (kinda), countertop sex position, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f), sex (p in v), overstimulation, creampie, office sex, fanart by @/polariae.
❖ wc: 2,214
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“Oh no…”
“You’ve committed a crime, tell me…”
“I killed my ex.” You grin with innocence, your teeth half-revealed, and wipe the blood on your pants.
The policeman with long raven hair tied in a half-bun twirls his silver handcuffs around his long, slender forefinger. His lips curl into a smile. “You’re under arrest, love.” His fingers cup your cute chin as you nearly purr, nodding your head, accepting your fate with a soft sigh.
“Alright.”
“Such a good girl,” he coos. “Officer Suguru Geto at your service. Suguru — or Sugu — to my close ones.” He winks at you, making your heart flutter. “Such a good girl deserves a bit more leniency, don’t you think?”
With an adorable pout on your lips, you nod. “Unless you’re a naughty girl?” Suguru adds, the roughness of his hands pressing you against his police car to cuff your wrists. You let him do it and giggle, admitting your guilt. “I’m taking you to the police precinct, love.”
°°°°
“Is cuffing me to a chair part of your usual interrogation process?” You glance back as the click of the door lock reaches your ears.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Suguru smiles and sits behind his desk. He calmly adjusts his computer screen and raises his fingers just above his keyboard. Turning his head towards you now, he wastes no time. “Alright, I need your identity: name, first name, date of birth, and address.” He carefully types your information and nods. “Very well. Was there a particular reason that led you to commit this crime?”
“My ex cheated on me a long time ago and I found out a few days ago,” you admit in a whisper, squirming in your chair from the discomfort caused by the handcuffs pinning you to your seat.
“Ah. An ex. I see.” Suguru purses his lips to stifle a smile. “Poor little heart. Did you have an alibi, perhaps?”
You blink. “You mean, someone who might have helped me kill my ex?”
“Exactly.”
“Well yes, my boyfriend.”
Suguru raises an eyebrow. “Your boyfriend? How kind of him.”
“Very. The best of all,” you assert with a proud look.
He chuckles softly, crossing his arms over his chest. “So did the fact that he helped you kill your ex heal your broken heart?”
“Yes, but my heart still aches and so do some places where we got a little rough…” You adopt a sad and troubled pout, and Suguru stands up to walk around his desk and fetch a cotton ball with tweezers.
“I have a few solutions for that,” he replies, kneeling in front of you, his hand armed with DNA collection tools.
“Will it hurt?” you can’t help but ask in a worried tone.
“No, princess,” Suguru breathes near your neck. He gently dabs the white, cottony ball on your multiple blood stains in silence. “There we go.” He goes to store the sample before returning to you. “So your boyfriend helped you kill your ex? Interesting.” His thumb glides over the soft flesh of your lower lip. “I can help finish healing what’s still hurt in your heart.”
“Can you?”
“If you agree, of course,” he murmurs, his hot breath brushing against your cheek. You give him enough of a signal for his thin lips to press slowly against yours. A growl escapes both of you, Suguru's lips moving against yours as you try your best to keep up. His tongue slips between your lips, seeking access to your mouth, which you part. With this simple gesture, Suguru elicits a small moan from you. “Taste good, baby,” he growls between kisses.
He then pulls his soft lips away from yours to attack your neck. Every inch is covered with sweet, wet kisses of shared saliva. “Suguru…” you sigh, your eyelids closed with fervent desire.
“Is that not enough to heal your heart? Maybe I need to push my interrogation further and deeper to find out what’s still troubling you, hmm? What do you think?”
You let out a yes and swallow hard as his hands slide down your waist and hips — his nails digging into your flesh. The smell of his cologne fills your now intoxicated nostrils. Fuck, he looks hot in his policeman uniform!
“Please,” you whimper. And his fingers are already tugging at your pants to remove them.
You obediently spread your legs, and his forefinger finds its way to the wet patch of your underwear. “Already worked up even though I haven’t done anything? I can even feel how swollen it is already.” The pad of his finger gently presses on your needy, puffy clit. His Adam's apple bobs, and Suguru looks up at you. “May I?”
You pathetically nod your head and a moment later, your panties are gone, and the sight of your glistening pussy right under his nose captures his attention. “I’m going to take care of it… for the sake of the interrogation and your heart, of course.” He buries his head between your plush thighs and a calloused finger slides between your wet folds. “Fuck, princess,” he hisses through his teeth, “I can feel it pulsing just at the entrance...” He inserts his finger and licks his lips eagerly. “So tight… Does your boyfriend truly take care of you?” His finger starts to pump slowly between your gummy walls, the latter clenching around it. “I think I need another to understand where it still hurts,” he grunts, making you whimper and squirm on your chair, handcuffs restricting your movements so you can’t do anything but moan when Suguru’s lips wrap around your bundle of nerves and suck it like it’s a lollipop. To ease the process, he puts one of his arms under your thigh to rest your calf on his shoulder and get better access to the sweet, swollen cunt he wants to eat out so badly.
“Sugu, it’s sensitive,” you whine, your breathing becoming heavy with gasps. And God, you’re so close, as he adds another finger to the first, stretching you out. Your pussy squelches, a warning for him that you’re going to cum soon. “Hnng… Please…”
“Nuh-uh, baby,” Suguru coos, his fingers continuing to finger-fuck you faster and relentlessly. “Use your words.”
“Make me cum, please.” And he obeys without objecting, his long, thin fingers curling up in that deep spot of yours that can make your toes curl so quickly. “So deep— ‘m close…” you sniffle, tightening when this knot in your stomach is on the verge of bursting. Suguru’s tongue darts out to drag teasing circles around your core. “Don’t be so loud, babe, my colleagues might hear you and ask what we’re doing — not complaining, though,” he chuckles, the resonance making you gasp. One more pump, and you squeal his name while reaching your climax on his fingers, walls spasming strongly.
Your breathing is now panting, Suguru winces. “Aw. You’re okay, sweetheart?” He waits for your nod and captures your lips with his. He hums, his lips stretching during the sloppy kiss. Your taste reaching your mouth, the fluid stretches like a rope between your lips when you break the kiss.
“I need more,” you whisper, biting your lower lip. “I’m sure it will help me heal my shattered heart.”
“I will, princess,” Suguru breathes out, his right hand cupping your cheek and stroking your rosy-skinned cheek. He stands up with a swift motion and unbuttons his blue shirt after pulling off his black bulletproof vest. His muscular torso and toned abs draw your attention and you almost salivate in anticipation. In the rustle of clothes, your eyes go down to the center of his body. Slow movements, carefully undoing his belt, he takes off his pants and lets them fall to the floor with a ragged sound. His grey boxers too. Then the sight of his long, aching cock rises towards you in a straight line.
“Like what you see?” he asks in a whisper.
You swallow thickly and nod. He steps closer to you and releases the handcuffs from your wrists, tossing them into a corner of the room. The sight of a naked Suguru standing next to you, his imposing height making your core ache. His abs — radiating warmth just inches from your face — twitch slightly in sync with his dick trickling with pre-cum. You remove your t-shirt and prepare to undo your lace bra, but Suguru’s large hand wraps around your wrist to stop you. “Let me, my beautiful girl.” Skillfully, his fingers unhook your bra, tossing it into the same pile of clothes as his.
“Gonna take care of you.” He nibbles on your earlobe and wraps his strong arms around your thighs, lifting you to place your ass on his cold, varnished wooden desk. Goosebumps travel across your soft skin, complemented by Suguru’s warm hands fondling your breasts while gently pushing you down on the desk to lay you back. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Effortlessly, your legs fly up to his shoulders, your heels catching just behind as his hands grab your ass and give it a loud smack. “Fuck…” he growls, and without needing to guide it, his cock finds its way to your dripping folds. The reddened, sensitive tip brushes against your warm, tight entrance.
Your patience wears thin, and you whine, “Suguru! Just fuck me alread—” And he splits your cunt suddenly, reaching your deepest point in a swift motion, with your sensitive walls gripping his shaft. “Ah— Sugu… s’deep…” He grins and patiently waits for you to adjust to him. Once you do, his hips begin to roll, thrusting in and out of you.
“Fuck, it’s like your pussy was molded f’me…” he hisses through his clenched jaw. He pulls out his dick to slam back in a bit harder, a desperate moan escaping your sweet lips. “Taking me so well…” His tip hits your g-spot again so easily thanks to his foreplay. Your insides are so wet that when Suguru starts to pick up the pace — his name repeated like an angelic prayer by your pretty tongue — his length slips out of your hole.
“Put it back…” you murmur with puppy eyes, shining with tears of pleasure.
“Can you beg for it, babe? Wanna hear ya cry for it.”
“Please, please, please— Ah! S-Sugu…” And he slips it back in to fuck you shamelessly. His hips meet yours harder and harder, and your hand pressed against your mouth no longer suffices to stifle your moans.
“Such a naughty—thrust—naughty—thrust—girl, aren’t you? Begging to be fucked when my cock slips out of your needy cunt, huh?” He growls, closing his eyes for a second to regain composure. He feels your walls tighten when he talks and a laugh shakes his chest. “You love dirty talk, huh?” His hands grip the curve of your hips and pull you back to him, hitting that deep spot inside you that blurs your vision with tears of ecstasy and forces your voice to sing his name like an opera singer. “You close, princess?” His balls slap your ass with a loud sound, matching the squelching sound of your fluids.
“So—So close…” you sob, your arms flailing to find anything to hold onto. You clench around Suguru’s dick so many times that he himself lets out a low groan of your name. The sound is like music to your ears and once again, the knot in your stomach is on the verge of bursting. “Gonna cum, gonna cum…”
Suguru's hand remains gripping your hips while the other grabs one of your breasts, pinching a swollen nipple and mercilessly rolling it between his forefinger and thumb. You even feel Suguru’s dick swell inside you — he’s just as close as you are. “Cum f’me, sweetheart… Let yourself go, I’ve got ya… Want me to cum inside your tight lil’ pussy? Yeah? Yeah?”
“Inside, please, inside,” you pant as your vision blurs with stars and your walls spasm around Suguru’s length. A groan and a moan escape both your mouths, and the next second, you both cum at the same time — him, painting your insides white with his hot spurt, and you, squirting your juices around his shaft. Unable to hold all of it in your womb, some of the mix of your fluids seeps out of your fucked hole.
Heavy and rough breaths fill the silent room. Your trembling legs can’t stay on Suguru’s shoulders and almost fall. He catches them just in time with both hands, bends them slightly, and plants a kiss on each of your knees, then smirks. “God, I’ll never get tired of this roleplay.”
Your own lips curl, and you turn your head towards the locked door. “Do you think anyone heard us?”
Suguru chuckles, eyes lightly squinting. “With your voice? If they haven’t already fled this wing of the police precinct…”
You glance at the fake blood on your arms. “Do you think they’ll go to Satoru to complain, saying, ‘your best friend is fucking his girlfriend a bit too loudly’?” And you both burst into laughter. “He’s the one who gave them the check to keep quiet and let us make all this whole… mess, after all.” You reach out and pinch Suguru’s cheeks.
He rolls his eyes. “Not with the amount he gave.”
“How much?”
“A little less than two million yen.”
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❖ a/n: i think i’m ovulating guys 🫣
❖ tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm
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enviedear · 1 month
Text
you ate me right up, you spit me back out
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⤷ jacaerys velaryon
- ˏˋ 🎧 1.8k words, minors dni  ˊˎ -
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“you shouldn’t be out at this hour.” the voice calling out is deep, and even though you turn in their direction, you aren’t able to make them out. a mere rough outline remains, shrouded in the moons shadows. still, you know who stands before you.
“i thought you a prince, my love. not a ward.” you wish the sun was shining, you’re sure he has his usual smirk on his face. both unbecoming and perfectly poised. as are all things with your prince.
jacaerys steps closer, pebbles and fallen leaves sounding under his boots, “my betrothed leaves dinner in haste. her chambermaids unaware of her location—tell me,” a pause from him, filled by his hands finding home at your waist, “have i upset you?”
“no. never that, my love…” you trail off, fingers blindly following the embroidery of his coat. “i fear i am plagued with utter happiness. this is a time of war, yet my days ring with joy. it feels immoral.”
he hums, the sound reverberating to your fingers at his clavicle, “it shouldn’t. you should know i pray for such, for your joy. i’m glad the gods answer my prayers.”
your breath hitches slightly, “you have far more to pray for, my love.”
he presses his forehead against yours, “such as?” his tone is sweetly sardonic.
“your life. your throne. your kingdom.” the reminders of duty ring heavy, but you have a feeling jace is smiling despite.
a soft kiss to your temple, “i pray for all of that too. perhaps the gods are proving how well they answer.” another kiss, “does that help?”
you breathe him in, hints of smoke, sea salt, and grasses flood your senses. the smell of dragonriding lingers on him, you assume as long as he lives he won’t be able to rid himself of it.
“yes,” you say after a moment. “i relent. i will remain happy.”
your words are met with another deep hum from him, followed by a soft chuckle that vibrates through his chest into yours. it's a warm sound that always exudes comfort. he pulls back just enough to stare at you, his eyes barely reflecting the silvery light of the moon. in night’s pale glow, they seem almost otherworldly—like two shimmering oceans of liquid silver. "my sweet girl.” he murmurs, reaching to deftly trace his fingers along the exposed skin of your shoulders.
a gust of frigid night air carries the familiar scent of saltwater and briny air so commonplace on driftmark. you shiver slightly as the breeze nips through your nightgown, but don't pull away from his touch or his gaze. moments of this kind are precious, even if they’re ill-advised. the palace guards must be searching for you right now, both of you, worried about where their young couple has wandered off to at this late hour. a possibility you should have considered before taking your leave.
"should we go back?" you whisper, breath warm against his neck.
he chuckles softly, pulling you closer. "do you really want to?"
you hesitate for a moment before shaking her head. "no, not really. i don’t want this day to end yet."
his hands trail down her arms, leaving a line of goosebumps in their wake. you tremble again, but this time it’s not so much from the cold. he leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "then i shall not allow for it. my beautiful bride, i only want you happy." he murmurs, voice low and smooth.
you hum at his praise, turning you face towards his. noses bump one another, and you fight a smile before leaning in. your lips met in a slow, tentative kiss. a kiss filled with longing—all the moments spend wishing to be alone together finally coming to fruition. still, you don’t let yourself get too taken by your betrothed’s saccharine lips. the both of you will have to retire and slip away to your own bedrooms soon. how you wish to share a room, to live as a married couple.
his hands move at your waist, pulling you closer still. you can feel the warmth of his body against your own, entrapping you against him. you’re sure you’ve never felt more at home. you card your fingers through his hair, deepening the kiss. he groans softly, one hand moving up to cup your breast. his thumb brushing against your nipple through the thin fabric of the nightgown, eliciting a gasp to break from your mouth.
you seperate, panting slightly. you peer up at him, eyes alight with desire. jacaerys’ brown eyes mirror your own, his hand still on your breast. "perhaps we should return.” he says softly, voice hinting.
you nod, taking his hand. you make your way back to the castle, steps slow and deliberate. jacaerys sneaks the both of you back into dragonstone, his hands remaining interlocked with yours.
as you make your way back to the castle, his hand tightens around your own. his grip is like a vice, making your pulse race. looking up at him through your lashes, eyes heavy with want. he leans in, capturing your lips in another deep kiss. there's no activity in the halls aside from the two of you, but still, your nerves scream out. this is all so unlike the both of you. jacaerys has never been so outward with affection—if anything it only adds to your desire.
his tongue darts out, teasing your lips apart, and you whine when he deepens the kiss. he pulls you closer, hands roaming over your body. His member presses insistent and hard against you and An intense ache of need uncoils within you. he groans into your mouth, breath hot and heavy.
"come with me." he whispers, his voice low and raspy. "spend the night in my bed."
you hesitate for a moment, but the need coursing through your veins makes it nearly impossible to resist. you nod, and jace grins, taking your hand and leading you to his chambers.
once inside, he shuts the door behind you and turns to face you. his eyes are even darker with the hue of lust. jacaerys steps closer, slowly. you almost feel like one of the sheep offered up to his family's dragons, unassuming and naive. he stops right in front of you, hands gently dipping underneath your nightgown. he slowly undresses you, his hands shaking slightly as he slides your dress off your shoulders.
jacaerys always takes you like a man starved. in a way, he is. without the war, the two of you would be happily married—should be relishing in the joy of naive nuptials. but you aren't. so he kisses at your neck hungrily, lips leaving a trail of heat on your skin. his hands cup your breasts, thumbs flicking over your nipples. you moan, your head falling onto his shoulder as he continues his sacrilege.
he pushes you gently onto the plush bed, his body covering yours. he reaches between your legs. his fingers find you wet and ready, and he groans. "you're always so perfect." he whispers, breath hot against your ear. "do you want me, dōna ābrazȳrys?"
you nod, unable to speak, feeling the head of his cock pressing against your entrance, you feel drunken, as if you had consumed the entire castles’ supply.
"say it." he commands, voice rough. "tell me you want me."
"i want you." you manage, voice trembling with need.
with a growl, he thrusts into you, filling you completely. jacaerys moves inside you, his pace slow and deliberate. he watches you closely, his eyes never leaving yours. you can feel every bit of him, like an indelible brand. the heat and weight of his body on top of yours. each thrust sends waves of pleasure through your body, making you arch your back. you grab at him, his muscles clenching under your touch.
his hands grip onto your hips, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. an absolutely lurid scene. his breath is hot on your neck, teeth nipping at your skin as he drives you both closer to the edge. you wrap your legs around his waist, urging him deeper inside you.
"you feel so good." he grunts, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "so perfect."
you moan as his thrusts pick up pace, your body moving in perfect rhythm with his. the bed creaks beneath you, the furs beneath you tangling around your legs as you arch your back to meet his movements. the smell of sweat and sex fill the air, mixed with the faint scent of dragon smoke that clings to him. his hips slide against yours, pressing into you as he takes you deeper and deeper. your breasts bounce with each thrust, nipples pebbled from the cool air on your heated skin.
jacaerys's breathing becomes ragged, his mouth finding yours once more in a passionate kiss, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. he tastes of honeyed wine and seasalt, divine. jacaerys growls into the kiss, tongues dancing together as he drives harder into you. the bed thumps against the wall in time with your grunts and moans, echoing through the otherwise silent castle halls.
"jacaerys." you moan, the sound barely audible among the creaking bed and the panting of your breaths.
he grunts in response, his fingers dig into your hips as he desperately tries to hold back. the bed groans beneath you, the cold stone floor sharp with the sound. his fingers dig into your hips, holding you close, making you feel a part of him.
"so close, dōna ābrazȳrys." he growls out, his voice hoarse. "so fucking close."
you gasp, your orgasm about to break free. the feeling consumes you, spreading through your body like wildfire, consuming you in its wake. your nails dig into his back, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. as the pleasure builds inside you, jacaerys pulls away from the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck and collarbone. you can feel the heat building in your core, every nerve on fire from his touch. you come undone with a loud gasp followed by your lover’s name, repeated like a prayer.
jace isn’t far behind and when he finally reaches his climax, you feel him tense inside you. his body shuddering as he releases himself deep within you. his hot seed pulses out of him, filling you completely before pulling out with a low groan. you gasp at the sudden loss of him, missing the fullness. with a loud sigh, he collapses on top of you, hearts pounding in unison.
he rolls onto his side carefully so as not to crush you under his weight and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Your fingers ascend instinctively, brushing a stray lock of hair from his brow, your fingers lingering on his skin.
he looks at you with a satisfied smile, his eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure. as he moves closer, his body radiates heat and you feel his strong arms wrap around your waist. you lean into him, enjoying the comforting feeling of being held in his embrace. the sound of his steady breaths like a lullaby, and you sink into the blissful calm of slumber.
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visionsofcarnality · 2 months
Note
can we get headcanons for gilf!Joel maybe? his slicked back hair in tlou ep3 stirred something in me 🥵🥵🥵
i like the way you think…
Silver Fox ! Joel Miller Headcanons NSFW!!
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Traditional old man in every sense of the word, he doesn’t make cheesy comments when you grab a door handle but he does give you a scolding little glare that totally doesn’t light a fire in your panties.
Self conscious about his somewhat saggy skin around his chest, middle, and extremities even after you’ve assured him until you’re blue in the face. You do help him though. Watching how attracted you are to his body even aged as it is definitely strokes his ego.
Has an online refillable prescription for Viagra that gets delivered to his apartment, and when he takes it he becomes an absolute fiend.
Usually without the Viagra he still is able to throughly satisfy you with ages of foreplay and a nice thorough fucking, leaving you both satisfied after one climactic round.
But when he takes Viagra-
You better clear your schedule and invest in a massage gun for your legs afterwards because you are going to be SORE.
I’m talking several positions, screaming until your throat hurts, your pussy feeling raw and used, daylong marathon sex.
Joel doesn’t seem to soften even a fraction until your body is wailing in protest and you can’t feel your thighs anymore.
You don’t think he could possibly have any more left in him until he’s once again emptying his heavy, full balls into your cunt; adding to the previous loads from the past six rounds he’s already shot into your body.
When he’s not fucking you stupid with the assistance of his little blue pills, he’s treating you like the princess you’d expect he would.
Don’t even think about carrying your own groceries, what are you, crazy?
Speaking of groceries…
If you aren’t living together yet best believe he’s on your doorstep every Sunday at 11AM with a truck full of groceries, dropping them off after church let’s out and he’s free to go to the store.
He makes you sit and continue sipping your coffee/tea while he puts them away, simultaneously checking the sell-by dates of everything in your fridge and pantry like a man obsessed.
Like a true old fashioned southern boy, he won’t tell you he’s in love with you. But he will point out the amount of things expired in your house.
“Come on, now. You’re gonna get sick, this is ridiculous-“ As if he hasn’t brought you your favorite brand of cereal and all your preferred snacks. Even all those “Shitty, organic, cardboard crap” things you love.
Never had a good plate of grits? He’s making them meticulously for you the morning after a hookup. “Eat, you need it. That stuff’ll keep you goin’ all day.”
Is all too supportive of your flimsy little sundresses. The gauzy fabric floating around your legs like a visualization of your perfume, nearly beckoning him closer. Even when you’re looking like a good little church girl in your soft, flowy dresses… all he can think about is how easy it would be to bend you over and have his way with you.
Which he does the second he brings you home from his cousin’s cookout in the suburbs.
Did I mention that he got a vasectomy after his divorce? Still, seeing you with his now adult daughter makes him daydream about getting you pregnant.
Which he finds insane… He doesn’t want any more kids, he physically can’t have any more kids… But the only thing he can think about right now is burying his cum in your pussy and keeping you pampered in his house with your belly full of his babies.
That vasectomy won’t stop him from trying his damndest, though. Especially after Sarah (who he had young) has her first baby and he watches you hold the six month old infant for the first time.
This man is a GENTLEMAN in the most old fashioned sense of the word.
Like, I cannot stress that enough.
If you’re an independent person, prepare to be thoroughly pampered.
His old fashioned chivalrous ways may be frustrating sometimes but it really does come from a place of just wanting to show his love.
Like when he insists on driving you everywhere whenever you go places together, or when he always finds a way to move you to the side of his body furthest away from the sidewalk when you walk, or when he automatically picks up your purse when you meet so that he can carry it for you.
But you forget all about those minor annoyances when he bends you over your kitchen table and pounds you into next week, muttering nonsense about how you’re too young for him or how you’re such a dirty girl for wanting him and his old man cock.
You moan his name when he grips both your hips in a tight but loving hold, all too willing to forgive him for his incessant door opening when you’re all dumbed down on his cock, the cock which is now way too hard and blood filled because he definitely popped one of your favorite blue pills a while ago.
But much like the gentleman he is, after he fucks you into a blissed-out stupor, he carries you to the bed and wipes your spent pussy clean, cuddling you into the mattress and running his hands through your hair while you both come down from your highs.
When he does get insecure about the age difference between you, all you can do is kiss his leathery, stubbled cheek and wrap your arms around him… Convincing him with your actions instead of words that his age is only a factor in your attraction to him… And that you love him for what makes him him.
this post got way too long but NONNIE I HOPE I DID YOU JUSTICE!!
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taegimood · 9 months
Text
— yeonjun overstimming himself to make you cum ♡
pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 1k warnings: smut, overstimulation (m receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (m receiving), dirty talk, use of pet names (baby, good girl), tummy bulge, pussydrunk soft dom bf!jun~
a/n - i’ve had this idea for a while now, lots of people seemed to like my other jun thought so here’s another one ♡ my inbox is open, send in requests for any member~!
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your legs tremble with every steady thrust to your cunt that yeonjun delivers, the room hot with moans and labored breaths.
the sight above you is heavenly; his dark hair hanging over his eyes, eyes that are boring into yours as he keeps his lips so tantalizingly close — so close, but just far enough to make you beg for it.
you whine as you chase him into a kiss. moaning into each other’s mouths as his skin slaps against yours, you squeeze your legs tighter around his waist and grip the toned arms that hold him up on either side of you as his pace begins to quicken. “baby..”
you can tell he’s close by the breathlessness in his voice and the way his eyes screw shut, lip tugging between his teeth to stop the moans that threaten to spill.
he’s fucking into you so deliciously. your back arches as the tip of his cock hits particularly deep; with a strangled gasp, your hips buck up into his and the way your pussy clenches around him has yeonjun seeing stars.
“baby, i’m- f-fuck, i’m gonna fill you up so good.” he groans. “such a good girl. pussy so good.. squeezing around me like that, fuck..” you can tell that he’s close. his thrusts grow sloppy, desperate, drilling into you as he chases his approaching high. you’re practically drooling, moans spilling from your parted lips as he hits so deep, so good —
before he can help it, his cum is spilling into you, stuttering thrusts slowing to a stop as he pants heavily; the silver chain around his neck is still swinging as he hovers over you, catching his breath. you whine desperately at the sudden loss of movement, your orgasm so close, now chased away —
as much as you want to cum on his cock, you’re at least happy to have his fingers and tongue to help you meet your high, always the doting boyfriend. but as yeonjun sits up onto his knees, what you don’t expect is for him to grip your hips, yanking you further down on his sensitive cock instead of slipping out of you like he usually would, your legs splayed open over his thighs as your hips lift slightly off the bed.
you both gasp in unison at the feeling. “j-jun-?!”
you’re already lifting yourself up onto your elbows, but yeonjun’s hands remain firm on your hips.
“still gotta make you cum, baby, don’t i? just relax for me,” he breathes. you drop back onto the pillow in surprise as a fresh wave of arousal crashes over you, your boyfriend’s sweaty chest still rising and falling in pants as his brows furrow at the over-sensitivity. “jjunie it’s okay, you can just—“
his first thrust takes the words right off of your tongue and somewhere far, far away, and this new angle has you gripping the sheets for dear life. “fuck,” you gasp out as he picks up the pace into a sharp rhythm, pulling your hips against his with firm slaps of skin on skin, his twitching, hardening cock drilling the deepest parts of you like it’s his job. you can’t stop the lewd moans now, wondering how you’re even able to make any sound at all when he’s fucking you this good.
“that’s it, baby, take it,” he grunts, his eyes glued to the bulge of his big cock in your tummy.
“you like it when i use myself to get you off, huh? you like it when i service you like this?” he chuckles, the filthy wet noises that your pussy is making growing even wetter at his words. “y-yes..” you whimper pathetically, unable to even say anything else.
“so fucked out on my cock, can’t even speak..” he murmurs breathlessly, and despite all his taunts, you can tell that he’s no better than you as his words grow increasingly less convincing and just as desperate-sounding as you feel.
he’s pounding into you so messily, one of his thumbs moving over your clit in quick circles, his lips parted and head lolled back as he releases a loud groan at the way you’re clenching around him so tightly. you can see the way his abdomen is tensing from the sheer overstimulation he’s giving himself in his determination to get you off and you nearly cum just at the thought of it.“jjunie, ‘m so.. so fucking close, p-please.. please..”
“that’s it, baby, fucking cum all over my cock, let go for me, fuck- good girl-“ he gasps out, his voice more of a high whine now than anything, his low dominating tone from before practically evaporating with each thrust. his thumb is moving rapidly over your clit, eyes screwed shut and hips twitching, the over-sensitivity stripping him of any thought other than getting the both of you to cum. “n-need it, jun, need it so bad-!” you’re rambling, gripping onto his hand that still holds your hip, shaking and squirming and desperately trying to buck your hips further into him. you can feel the chord about to snap when your eyes meet his, and just like that, your vision flashes white as your orgasm wracks over your entire body. you can feel yeonjun’s warm cum spurting into you again as he moans out filthily, both of you shaking and slick with sweat as he finally collapses on top of you in a daze.
neither of you speak as you both catch your breath, chests moving fervently against each other’s. yeonjun slumps fully into the crook of your neck.
“holy fuck,” he rasps.
“yeah. holy fuck, yeonjun.”
he lifts his head tiredly to give you a shit-eating grin. his hand moves to soothe up and down your waist; “my stamina is no joke, huh?” you roll your eyes but return his smile anyway, resting your arms around his shoulders as you pull him down into a kiss. “can’t believe you did that..” you mumble shyly. he nuzzles his face into your cheek, peppering it with kisses, and you giggle.
“gotta give my best for my baby.”
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idkwhatever580 · 5 months
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I would die happy
Pairings: teen!Natasha Romanoff x teen!reader
Song Inspiration: very loosely based off of the songs Casual by Chappell Roan and Ashley by Zolita (They’re good to listen to before hand but not necessary. I’ll link them)
Prompt: what happens when “good girl” y/n breaks it off with “bad girl” Natasha and Natasha realizes she needs y/n more than she thought?
Warnings:mentions of sex, angst then fluff, mentions of death? (From the song).
Pronouns: unspecified (one use of ma’am but in a silly way)
A/N: No this is not an actual songfic. I just took inspiration from the songs so there might be a line or five in the mix. I have had these songs stuck in my head the past few days and I kept imagining like a teen romance coming out of it? Idk. Hopefully I write this better than the last one 😭
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Y/n’s pov
I am in my room doing my homework when I hear tapping on my window. I look up from my neat desk to see Natasha.
My instinct is to smile and open the window up but I freeze.
Natasha Romanoff.
Bad girl. She vandalizes things. She doesn’t participate. And she dresses like a fuck boy.
Some call her a player. Some call her a cheater.
Whatever they think there’s one thing everyone can agree on. Natasha romanoff does not do relationships.
She’s usually the one night stand type of girl but then she met me. And that’s when everyone says she went soft. She never fucked another girl other than me.
But that’s all. For half a year. All she’s ever done is sex, aftercare, leave, repeat.
Another set of tapping falls upon my ears and I zone back in. I open the window and whisper
“What are you doing here?”
Natasha crawls in and says
“Wanted to see you. You alright there? You zoned out for a sec”
I nodded my head and my eyes fall upon her necklace. It’s silver with a little arrow.
I hate myself when I think of it. I nod my head and say
“Yeah. Totally fine. Just doing some homework”
I sit back down at my desk even though I know why Natasha is here.
After a whole 6 months of this it’s hard to not know what her routine is. But I don’t want it anymore.
Obviously I caught feelings. Who wouldn’t catch feelings for her? I just thought that I would get over it. I thought that having some of her is better than none of her at all right?
Wrong.
I cry so much now. All I want is for her to love me back. But that’s not reality. She doesn’t do love. She doesn’t do relationships. And I can’t do it anymore.
Natasha walks up behind me and rubs her hands down my arms and starts kissing my neck. My body lets her do it but then I think about it and take her hands off me.
“Not tonight. I have to study”
She doesn’t let up. Because usually I like playing hard to get. So she doesn’t know. And that’s okay. It’s my fault she doesn’t know.
“I can help you relax baby”
I roll my eyes at the pet name and say
“Natasha. Can we talk?”
She stands up straighter at my use of her full name and says
“Yeah. Sure”
I can tell she is a bit surprised at me but she nods her head nevertheless.
She sits down at the foot of my bed and I roll my chair over to her.
I sigh and look at the ground.
“I don’t know how to say this, but I can’t do this anymore Natasha”
She furrows her eyebrows and says
“You can’t do what?”
“This Natasha,”
I point at her and myself
“I hate myself for letting this drag on so long because I know you. I know you don’t want a relationship. But I lo- I like you Natasha. And I want you. All to myself. I want labels and I want to go to the pier together and eat popsicles and I want you to tell your friends and I want a future with you.”
I can tell I’m overwhelming her with this information but I keep going
“But you don’t want that. And that’s okay! I understand that some things aren’t meant to last. But I can’t keep hurting myself for some fun okay? I need to heal and move on. And you can go find another toy to play with and that’s okay. I just can’t be the one you go to anymore. It’s not what I want. And our ideals clearly do not align. I thought maybe I could do it and be able to handle all of this but I can’t.”
I tear up a bit
“I can’t be casual with you. I want feelings attached and I want you to myself but you don’t want me like that. So I need to cut it off.”
I finally finish my rant and I look down feeling embarrassed.
“I’m sorry”
I apologize and she shakes her head
“Don’t apologize. I get it.”
We sit there for a minute of awkward silence and she sighs and says
“I guess I should go then”
I nod my head and sniffle a bit. She lingers like she has something to say but she ultimately leaves and on her way out of my window she says
“I’ll see you at school I guess”
I nod my head.
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It’s been a week since I cut it off with Natasha and I look rough. My friends are worried about me but I tell them I’m fine.
Even some of my teachers have asked if I’m okay. Of course I lie to them. But it’s nice to know someone cares.
I have avoided Natasha at all costs. But I still find myself thinking about her.
Her arrow necklace. God I hate myself when I think of it. Because then I think of her. And then I start crying. Or I just shut down.
Yes. I may or may not have almost said I love you the night I cut it off with her. But I didn’t want her to have to hold all of my baggage. It’s not fair. She doesn’t like me like that. And she doesn’t deserve to feel guilty for what I feel.
My friend Emerald walks up to me during a free period and she says
“Hey did you see Natasha today?”
I shake my head and say
“I don’t want to talk about her.”
She shakes her head and says
“Well you’re gonna have to listen. She is the talk of the school right now so either you hear it from me or someone else.”
I roll my eyes and say
“What Em? Does she have a new toy hanging on her shoulder?”
Clearly I’m a little ticked off about having to hear about her.
But em shakes her head and I look at her and wait for her to continue
“She’s wearing your hoodie”
I look at her and say
“My hoodie? She doesn’t have any of my clothes, except for that bra that I’ll probably never get back”
She takes out her phone and shows me my favorite hoodie. It’s the pink one that I got from the thrift store. They all knew it was mine because it has em’s name on the sleeve. And a duck on the front.
I remember now. I forgot it at her house one time after she fucked me in her beach house. That was the day everyone found out and started talking about how I’m just a girl she fucked on her couch.
I cried so much that I forgot about it. And of course she just came over to make me forget about all the things people said.
I look at her and say
“Why would she ever wear that?”
She wiggles her eyebrows at me and says
“She obviously likes you y/n”
I roll my eyes and say
“She doesn’t like me Em. From the beginning everyone has known she doesn’t do crushes.”
Em shrugs her shoulders and says
“People can change.”
I roll my eyes and get a little frustrated and say
“Leave it Em. I don’t want to talk about it.”
She puts her hands up in surrender and leaves it at that.
The rest of the day goes by slowly. But I catch a glimpse of Natasha at the end of the day. She is wearing my hoodie. She looks good in it. But she shouldn’t be wearing that. I’m not hers. And she’s not mine.
I quickly leave so she doesn’t see me. Even though we definitely made eye contact. But it’s whatever.
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It’s about 8 pm now and I’m studying again. This final is about to make or break me so I can’t let myself loosen the reigns even though it’s only a midterm.
I have my headphones on and I’m listening to classical because it apparently helps people study. I’m honestly doing anything to help me.
A hand taps my shoulder and I jump up quickly but thankfully I don’t yell.
I turn around quickly and see Natasha standing there.
I immediately get frustrated and say
“What are you doing here?”
I take a second to actually look at her and she looks like shit. Honestly she is looking at me like a lost puppy. Like she hasn’t been in my room for six months. Her hair is a mess, shes still in my hoodie, and the bags under her eyes indicate that she hasn’t been sleeping well. I almost feel bad for her. Then I remember I can’t let my feelings get in the way. She says
“I um… I wanted to talk to you”
I sigh and say
“Well what is it? I’m listening?”
I feel bad for being so short with her but I can’t do it any other way or else I’ll break down.
She kind of stands there for a second and I sit down on my bed and pat it. I might as well be nice to her. She’s not a horrible person anyways.
She shakes her head slightly and keeps standing. I look at her and say
“You wanted to talk?”
She nods her head and says
“I don’t know how to say this but… I- I need you y/n”
I have never seen Natasha cry once. But she immediately breaks down in front of me
“I can’t do this without you. I need you so bad I just want all of you. I thought that if I convinced myself that it was for the better, that if I said I wanted this it would come true. But it’s not true I- I love you and I know you are probably over me by now and that’s okay I just need to tell you that I want you and only you. I know I’ve never done anything like this but I want to I want to change. I want to be good. For you. I want to take you on dates and tell everyone about you. And I don’t think I can do this without you because life is like a bad dream without you and I didn’t even realize what I had until I lost it!”
She starts crying. I start tearing up at her confession and I say
“Stop it. Stop it Natasha.”
It’s short and snippy because I’m about to cry.
“You can’t just say those things and pull at my heart just to get into my pants okay? I’m sorry that nobody wanted to get with you but I cannot just go crawling back to you if you just lie to me to get me back”
She looks at me and she shakes her head aggressively and says
“No. No I don’t. I don’t want to get into your pants I actually love you. I didn’t even know it because I’ve never felt love before y/n. Please you have to understand me I love you. I love you so much and I want a future with you. I was just scared but I’m not scared anymore I want you!”
She drops to her knees and tries to calm down a bit and says
“I understand if you don’t want me but I want you. I want to be your girlfriend. I want to introduce you to my friends and family. And- and I know my past doesn’t help anything. My reputation is probably your biggest fear but I can’t imagine my life without it. I’ve never been the sappy type but I’m telling the truth. If loving you kills me then I will die happy y/n”
I look at her from my bed and I see the genuine look in her eyes. I tear up again and the I get down from my bed and she looks down. It’s like she’s worshipping me. Like if she doesn’t she might lose me.
I envelope her in a hug and she starts crying into me. And I say
“Tell me that you love me and you won’t leave me.”
She looks at me with tears running down her face and her nose is sniffly and she says with such confdence
“I love you y/n. Nothing can change that. I won’t ever leave you. Not even if I could. I want to be yours”
I smile at her as she waits for me to answer and I grab her head and lean into her. I kiss her.
This kiss is different than any other kiss I’ve ever shared with her. It’s soft and tender. And full of love. I don’t even care that her tears and boogers are getting on me.
I don’t care. I just love her. I pull away and giggle and she kind of sits in criss cross. And I say
“Natasha. I love you too. I’ve loved you for a while now. I was just scared to say it.”
She sends me a dopey smile. I’ve never seen her smile at me like that. I like it. So I boop her nose and say
“Cute.”
She scrunches up her nose and says
“I’m everything but cute right now.”
I shake my head and say
“You’re always cute.”
I kiss her again after she wipes her face off and it’s sweet. I pull her into my lap and she says
“I don’t like this.”
Normally I guess she would be more comfortable with me on her lap. But I don’t care.
“I guess you’re just gonna have to suck it up.”
We sit on my floor for a bit and I say
“Oh shit! It’s late.”
I check the time and say
“It’s nine o’clock already! You have to get home baby”
She stops at the nickname and says
“Wait. So… are we?”
I giggle and say
“After all of that? There’s no way we’re not dating. So yes. I’m gonna call you baby. But you need to go home and I need sleep”
She smiles and says
“Can I have a hug before I go?”
I nod my head and pull her in for a long hug.
I kiss her head and then her nose and then her lips and say
“I love you. Now go. I’ll pick you up for school tomorrow?”
She usually walks to school and I drive but I want to pick her up now. She nods her head and I stop her before she leaves my window and I say
“And I want my hoodie back.”
She laughs softly and says
“No way. It’s mine now.”
Then I pull her back in to me and distract her with a kiss. I say
“Well then. I guess this is mine now”
I swiftly pull the hoodie she has on right now off of her and she pouts and says
“Aw man. That’s a good hoodie.”
I smile and say
“Only the best for me right?”
She smiles finally and nods her head and I say
“Text me when you get home okay?”
She nods her head and says
“Yes ma’am”
I giggle and shake my head. I watch as she walks off into the night and I hop onto my bed and cuddle my stuffed animal with a bright smile on my face.
All of that heartache must have been worth it.
She was right. If loving her kills me, then I would die happy.
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A/N: I actually kind of like how this one turned out. I know I pulled from the songs a lot but at least it was built into the words and not like a normal songfic lol. Because I’ve heard that many people do not like songfics :)
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eddiesxangel · 4 months
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Baby Makes Three | older!Eddie Munson x PlusSize!Reader
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2K request celebration
Requested by @alastorssimp
Summary: you and Eddie find out some very shocking news.
Cw: f!reader, unexpected pregnancy, age gap, older!Eddie, a reader in their late 20’s, a plus-size reader, Eddie is divorced, oral, protected and unprotected p in v, light choking, praise, happy ending. 3k words
An: Older!Eddie is the loml can’t believe we are having his baby 🤭
As the evening unfolds, you find yourself at a lively bar, celebrating your friend's farewell to her twenties. Although you've grown somewhat weary of late-night revelry, your friend insisted that you join her, believing that the celebration wouldn't be complete without you. As you step into the dimly lit bar, your gaze is immediately drawn to a captivating figure.
Amidst a group of older men, he sits on a bar stool, exuding an aura of distinctiveness. His cascading locks and adorned fingers, embellished with silver rings, capture your attention, except the finger where a wedding band would typically reside. Despite his smile, his deep brown eyes betray a hint of melancholy. In that moment, you feel an unwavering resolve to brighten his spirits.
As you observed him from across the room, you couldn't help but feel drawn to him. Although he didn't fit your usual preferences, there was something about him that intrigued you. He was an older man, rough around the edges, tall, dark, and handsome; what's not to like? The more you studied him, the more you estimated his age to be in his late 40s, perhaps 50.
Emboldened by a few drinks, you finally mustered the courage to approach him.
“Hi,” you smile.
“Hi,” you hear another handsome man turn to you, but he isn’t the one you were speaking to.
“I’m Y/N,” you reach your hand so he can shake it.
“Steve.” He smiles.
“Hi Steve, who’s your friend.” You turn to the man you’ve been eyeing all night.
“This here.” He pats his friend on the back, breaking him out of his conversation with another friend. " Is Eddie?” He smiles, and Eddie turns to his friend, confused as to why his name is being spoken.
“What?” He swallowed his beer.
“This is Y/N.” Steve smiles.
“Eddie.” He nods.
“What brings you here, Eddie?” Your voice is so sickly sweet, laced with desire.
“I don’t think you wanna know, Sugar.”
Normally, the name would deter you, but coming from him, it made your heart flutter.
“Try me?” You lean forward on the high-top table, emphasizing your breasts.
Eddie began to shy away, but Steve stepped in once again, “celebrating his divorce.” He claps Eddie’s back again. Clearly, they’ve been here a while.
“Oh well, that’s good news for me then.” You absentmindedly start to twirl your hair.
“And why’s that, Sweetheart?”
“Maybe you’ll find out later.” You wink and turn to go back to your friends.
“What was that?” Eddie was stunned.
“Dude, you gotta go after her! She was totally flirting with you.”
“Nah.” No way Eddie believed that… no way this sexy younger girl who looks like God's gift to earth wants to flirt with him.
“Um, yes, she wants you, man.”
“I could be her father.” Eddie scoffs.
“Hasn’t stopped me.” Steve laughs.
Eddie rolls his eyes at Steve. How would something as hot as you go for a guy like him?
“If you don’t, I will.”
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Eddie eventually gave in to Steve’s nagging and found you twenty minutes later. He offered to buy you a drink, and you gladly accepted.
You “awe” when they tell you he’s newly single and touch his arm while giving him a fake pout. Your pink lipgloss captures the light, and Edie can't stop staring at your mouth.
Eddie tried so hard to keep eye contact, but your body was so full and voluptuous that he couldn’t help but scan you a time or two.
“You wanna get out of here?” You ask after you finish your second drink with him. Your friends are who knows where, and you’re so horny you think your pussy might just explode.
“Yea, yea, let’s um, go.” Eddie couldn't hold back his smile. He was buzzing he was so excited.
You rested your hand on his upper thigh on the short car ride back to his home. His other leg bounced in anticipation, trying not to get hard already. But the simplest touch from you had him realizing. Your manicured fingers looked so good resting on his leg like that.
He pulled up to his small three-bedroom bungalow, which was enough for him and his two kids, who he had with his ex.
It was seriously a bachelor pad. He was not expecting company, so the place was disorganized, but you didn’t care to notice because your lips were attached to his neck the second he closed the door.
“Holy shit” he lets slip because is this really happening? Yes it is.
“Oh baby,” You hear Eddie moan again as your hands slip up his thighs to where his hard-on is starting to take form.
“You should relax; let me help you,” you say, hooking your fingers under his leather jacket and pushing it off his shoulders. Your eyes widen when you see the vast number of tattoos covering every inch of his bare arms.
“You wanna help me relax, baby girl?”
“Mmmmm, I do. You deserve it after all you've been through.” You nod your head, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. God, you're laying it on thick.
Eddie smirks and brushes your loose hair behind your ear, sending a chill up your spine. You watch him lean down to take your lips on his. Needy, passionate kisses were shared before you broke away and found his neck.
“Let’s take this into the bedroom,” he says, pushing you back towards the hallway. You giggle as the man handles you.
Eddie still can’t believe this is happening, but he’s going to take advantage of every second of it. He watches your tiny skirt ride up as you walk towards his bedroom. He can’t help but grab a handful of it, and you squeak.
Finding more confidence in himself, he tosses you on the bed, and you land with a giggle. You’re not used to being so manhandled, but you liked it. Eddie was much stronger than he looked, which only turned you on more.
You watch him as he removes his shirt before he lunges towards you. He has you naked and on your knees for him within minutes of entering the bedroom.
Your nimble fingers unbuckle his belt as you kneel before him. He thinks he will cum right then and there. The image of you looking up at him, your tick thighs pressed together, trying so hard to create some sort of friction for yourself, is so fucking hot to him.
“Fuck you’re big” Your jaw hangs slack in shock as his hard cock springs from the confines of his pants.
“I’m sure you can take it.”
Challenge accepted.
Eddie hadn’t had sex in a very long time. No way he was last if you keep this up. He thinks you’re about to suck the soul out of his body as your hot, warm mouth envelops him wholly.
“Fuck baby girl, your mouth is so perfect, I can’t wait for your pussy.”
“I’m right here, yours for the taking,” you smirk up at him, reeling from the fact he hadn’t touched you yet.
He once again surprised you as his strong arms lifted you with ease to toss you onto the bed. He spreads your legs without a second thought and dives into your needy cunt.
“You’ve been hiding this from me?” His eyes roll back as he tastes you. You mewl as his mouth takes over all of your senses.
“I know, baby, you need me to fuck you, don't you?”
“Yes”
“Needy little thing, just need a man to take care of you?”
You nod your head as your fingers lace themselves through his chocolate waves.
“I promise I'm going to take care of you and make you feel good.” And he is making you feel so good.
His face between your legs feels like you've ascended into euphoria.
“Oh god!” You clench down as your orgasm washes through you.
“That’s a good girl.” He laps at your juices before he fumbles for the condoms he thankfully just bought. He quickly rips open the box as you come down from your high. Condoms are scattered across the bed, and Eddie hears you giggle at his eagerness, and it only makes him want you more.
Eddie has the condom on in seconds and is gliding himself through your wet folds before he pushes himself inside.
“Oh, Eddie!” You scream when he bottoms out.
Eddie lets himself close his eyes as his tounge traced your nipple. He hummed into your skin only sending more waves of pleasure through your body. His large hands squeezed your other breast as he sucked and flicked your nipple with this mouth. Teeth teases as his fingers played, nothing would stop him from having your perfect tits in his mouth and his cock buried deep inside you.
His hips are rocking into you so good, he’s pounding into you, you can’t think. You’re so fucking happy you chose to come home with him, never have you had sex this good. How did his wife give this up? You don’t know,; but you’re sure glad because you will get to experience him now.
“Eddie, please!” He loved hearing his name fall from your lips. He wasn’t even sure you remembered it; he’s having trouble remembering yours if he’s being honest, but he didn’t care. Your pussy was magic.
“Fuck baby girl, this pussy is so tight, so good” You feel his hand gently wrap around your throat, holding you in place as he watches your tits bounce with each thrust. His cock disappears between your plush thighs; he can’t get enough as your pussy is getting tighter and tighter. He can feel your orgasm creeping up on you. He needs you to cum before him; he is damned if he comes first.
“Come on baby girl, cum on my cock…. That’s it; you’re taking me so well. I knew your pussy would be so fucking good.” The praises falling from his lips have you clenching down on his cock, so hard Eddie thinks he sees stars.
Eddie can finally let go. His cum fills the condom as he continues to fuck into you until he’s satisfied.
Once you’ve both caught your breath, you get up to leave, Eddie feels sad when you start getting dressed, but you insist he gives you his phone band. Maybe you can do it again sometime.
When he saw the text from the unsaved number with your name attached, his stomach did a little summersault, and he didn’t think he would ever forget your name again.
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It’s been weeks, and your and Eddie’s schedules have yet to coordinate. He had his kids on the weekends, and you’re always busy. You never give a reason; you’re just busy.
So when Eddie entered the restaurant to get his pick-up order, he was a little surprised when he saw you sitting at the booth with a guy. A guy who was about your age, with his arm wrapped around you.
Who even sits on the same side of the booth anyway?
He gave the host a fake smile as his skin started to crawl as he continued to watch the blonde hair blue eyed Chad-looking fucker lean in and whisper something in your ear that made you laugh.
So this is why you’re “busy.”
“Your food will be out in a minute, sir.” The hostess smiled and walked away.
This gave Eddie the opportunity to walk over.
“Fancy seeing you here, Sugar.” Eddie smiled, but you could tell by the look in his eyes it was not a happy one.
You almost choked on your drink as his deep baritone voice filled your ears.
“Eddie, um, hi.” You try and keep your cool.
No, you weren’t avoiding him. This date had been planned for weeks, and you didn’t have the heart to cancel.
“Hey man,” the douche nods to Eddie, and he can’t help but roll his eyes. How on earth did his girl go for this chump?
Eddie completely ignored him.
“Who’s this baby?” Your date turns to you. “Your dad or something?”
You almost choked again, and Eddie sneered as the smug look graced your date's face.
“Can you give us a minute?” You turn to him.
“I don’t think— "
"Listen to the lady." Eddie glared, and he looked so hot while doing it.
"I'll give you ten minutes."
"I’m sure that's the longest you'd ever need," Eddie mumbled under his breath, and you giggled.
Eddie stuck out his hand, and you take it, and he leads you around the corner to the alcove by the bathrooms.
“So….” You start awkwardly.
“I see why you’re always busy. If you have a boyfriend just tell me I’ll stop waisting my time.” He scoffs.
“Hes not my boyfriend.”
“But that’s your type, huh? Thought you wanted a more mature man? Someone rough around the edges, someone who knows how to please you” He raises his brows.
“I-I mean…”
“What is it, baby girl? He fuck you as good as I did?” He tucks a price of loose hair behind your ear. “I don’t think so.”
“How dare you!”
“You need to be reminded?”
The way your pussy clenched as his tone was a betrayal of your own. You missed his touch, but he was being such as asshole you didn’t want to give in.
“Fuck you”
“Gladly,” he leaned in and kissed you deeply.
You let a moan slip, and you feel Eddie smirk against you.
Eddie dragged you into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.
“Eddie,” you moan, completely forgetting you were on a date with another man.
Eddie can’t get enough of you; he’s been thinking about you every moment of every day since that first night you hooked up, and hearing your name slip past your lips only makes this moment all that much sweeter for him.
“Need this tight pussy to remember who she belongs to.” He flips you towards the sink so you face the mirror. You watch intently as his hands wrap around your waist to unbutton your pants and pull them down. “Need to remind you who made you cum so hard you were begging for more.”
You couldn’t form words, only needy mewls left your throat as you wiggle your bare ass at him before his fingers run up your already wet slit. It didn’t take much for you to get ready when Eddie was around.
“So wet f’me already”
“Only you.”
“Yea, only me? Not that Ken doll out there?”
“No, Eddie, you! Only you!”
“That’s right, baby girl. You’re mine, pretty.”
You hear the jingle of his belt, and soon after, his hard tip brushes through your folds.
“Eyes on me,” he guides your chin to keep looking at him through the mirror as he plunges inside of you.
Your mouth falls slack as he fucks into you; his hand moves lower, holding your throat in place as each brush of his cock feels so deep inside of you.
His grip on your hip is tight, his hand slinks down from your throat to your breasts, and he squeezes it over and over again.
“Can’t get enough of you, pussy is like a fuckin drug.”
“So big,” you slur. His cock brushing that sport so deep inside you your body is shaking with pleasure.
Your orgasm hits you quickly, and Eddie is coming shortly after.
You feel a light smack on your bare ass before he helps pull your panties back up.
“Holy shit” you try and catch your breath.
“Now, you’ll only be thinking of me dripping down your leg while you finish this date.” He gives your ass another squeeze before slipping out the door without another word.
You take a minute to catch your breath and exit the bathroom to see Eddie, with a takeout bag, heading out the door. You say a quick goodbye to your date, making up some lame excuse about not feeling well and chase after Eddie while he still leaks out of you.
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A one-night stand turned into running into him while on another date, and he fucked you in the bathroom so good you ditched your date, and now you’ve been hooking up ever since.
You didn’t speak to one another about what you were, but after that day in the bathroom, you knew you didn’t want to be with anyone else. It was understood after he ran into you on a date - you would be committed to one another only.
You liked Eddie, and yes, he was older by about seventeen years, but he treated you well. He always made sure to take care of you and look after your needs, and when you were both finished, he always wanted to talk and cuddle.
You knew you wanted more with him, to go out with him, to be with him, but you were too scared to overstep. He had just gotten out of a poor relationship a month and a half ago, but your feelings for him started blooming, and you couldn't stop.
You’re falling quick and hard for Eddie and that’s scary. It’s so new and what if a baby is added to the equation? That could end things in an instant. Dread was the only thing to fill your mind as your mind spiralled.
Your phone startles you out of your thoughts, and you answer it right away, don't even see who it is on the other end.
"Hey, baby girl. You getting ready to go out?"
Tonight, you were to go out with your friends to dance. You loved having a drink and some good music, but as you were getting ready, a wave of nausea hit, and you knew that wasn't a good sign.
You were late. It's been a little over two weeks late, but you're scared to take a test. No way you wanted this to be real. You had been so careful.
"No, um, actually. I'm not feeling well." You try and swallow the lump in your throat. You don't need to worry about the unknown.
"Oh baby, do you need some soup? I can pick you up some and bring it over."
“No, no I just — Oh god, the bathroom!”
It hit you; you didn’t use a condom that time.
"You wanna hang up to do that or…?"
"No, Eddie, no I need you to get something for me."
"Whatever you need."
You pace back and forth as the longest 3 minutes of your life pass by.
Eddie couldn't believe you were asking him to get you a pregnancy test at nine-thirty on a Saturday night, but here he was, anxiously waiting.
Eddie loved being a dad, and he would be thrilled to have another baby, especially with you. Sure, the relationship was newer, but he knew in his soul how good of a person you were and how good of a mom you would be.
Fantasies of you and your swollen belly played in repeated in his head until he heard you gasp. He sees your face, and you're in shock, unable to move beside your shaking hand. Holding the test, he sees the blue plus symbol clear as day.
"Your boy has still got it!" He grabs the test from your hand and makes a fist pump in the air.
"Eddie!"
"What?"
"Aren't you scared?" Tears formed in your eyes. Would you be ready? Would you be a good mother? Would he want to leave, and you would be stuck being a single mom?
"No, because I know you'll be an awesome mom. I can't imagine a more perfect woman to have my baby." He leaned in to kiss you, and a tear fell down your cheek.
My baby. Something g you and Eddie made together.
"I'm going to be a mom." Eddie's words start to make you feel better, and you start to smile.
"You're going to be the sexiest mom." He wiggles his brows suggestively.
"Eddie!"
"And the kindest, most caring, thoughtful mom to ever exist. This baby will be so loved."
"So loved," You repeat.
Tagging some mooties (feel free to ignore): @paybacksawitch @xxbimbobunnyxx @strangerstilinski @taintedcigs @munson-blurbs @littlexdeaths @onegirlmanytales
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