#there are so many ways this could go ahhhh.

[akemiiya]

if sif's island is still physically there, there could be an argument that the inhabitants are also still there and perfectly fine, and the island is just separated from the outside world. the island's separation from the rest of the world happened while sif was on that boat after running away from home. so in this theoretical situation, from sif's parents' pov, they actually ran away and never came back.

do you think their parents ever wonder what happened to them or what he's doing now. if he's living his life away from them in the outside world, eating all the non-veggies to his content, or if something bad happened and that's why they never came back. do you think they tried to go after him, but forgot everything immediately after leaving the island, and are now just living their lives in vaugarde or somewhere else, not knowing that they got there because they went looking for their missing child or that they had a child in the first place. do you think they ever ran into each other at some point and had no idea of their relation to one another.

[zeldassecretwell]

listen. listen. hear me out.

trans zelda and trans link (of course), HOWEVER (long speculation and gender worldbuilding/headcanon follows):

link, afab and genderfluid. as a child, shrimply does not Care about gender. does not cross her mind (homeschooled and fucks around in the woods too much for it to be relevant to his life). But when they pull the sword, suddenly there's all this attention on them and guess what? The Hero Of Legend is a boy, and so Link must be a boy, always. He doesn't really mind at first, because it isn't like he cared anyways, but it eventually becomes stifling as he realizes that he, as The Hero, is expected to perform a certain kind of masculinity (and only ever perform that kind of masculinity).

zelda, amab and trans, she/her. grows up as aware of gender roles as a child can be (given that those roles are tied to the monarchical power structure that she's born into). Sees that her mother is 1) the one with the divine heritage and 2) I'm going to assume favorite parent since I dislike Rhoam intensely. Is like, yeah sure I'd like to be a girl, sounds neat! Rhoam et al. are like but your roles...no...be a boy... And then her mom dies when she's like 6 and everybody's like well shit The Princess Of Legend is a girl, and Zelda is an only child, so now we will choose to see you as a girl. And at first Zelda doesn't mind because she thought being a girl was neat anyways, but then it becomes stifling as she realizes that she, as The Princess, is expected to perform a certain kind of femininity (and only ever perform that kind of femininity).

I just think it's incredibly interesting how gender can play into the themes of destiny/expectations/personhood/choice/self discovery if you operate off of the assumption that the botw/totk universe has an (even slightly) different system of gender. because most societies do in one way or another. FOR EXAMPLE:

- link starts dressing more fluidly and expressing themself more after he wakes up post amnesia, moving away from rigid, stoic masculinity of pre-calamity

- zelda cuts her hair post botw. she cuts her hair. oh my fucking god! she cuts her goddamn hair! she is louder and more outspoken, and she leans into being a scientist. and she cut her hair!!! because she IS a girl, but not the one that her father wanted her to be.

- and on the topic of how this influences the rhoam-zelda dynamic: you could read an element of rhoam projecting onto zelda (and zelda very much perceiving this) "well, if only you had been 'BORN' a girl, maybe your powers would work sooner" or "well you wanted to be a girl, so why do you complain about the kind of girl that you must be for the good of the kingdom (read: the kind of girl I want you to be)"

- THUS. INTENSE ZELDA LINK BONDING (romantic or platonic doesn't matter) VIS A VIS BEING TRANS AND THE WAY EXPECTATIONS SHAPED THE WAY THEY WERE PERCIEVED AND THE WAY THEY PERCIEVE THEMSELVES. CAN I GET AN AMEN.

- also, last little note - because I'm assuming (as much as one can) that the kingdom of central Hyrule is to some degree imperialistic and subjugating other regions in the country pre-calamity - other societies in hyrule could have gender systems that differ from that of Central Hyrule (and this is sort of present in canon but. you know. in the way that canon is the way it is. well.). ERGO. none of the Champions have to be in line with the central hyrulean concept of a cisgender person. I rest my case.

[shachiruka]

when will people learn to stay at home when they're sick hhhh

[orcelito]

Ok though its actually kinda nice to see some of my earliest rps... 15 year old me just having fun 🥺🥺🥺

Might go digging more later. Don't rly feel like getting That into it tonight lol

[lyxchen]

Genuinely OBSESSED with Carmen (the opera)!!!! Ahhhhh it's so good!!!! I wish I would have found this sooner!!!!

[lowryuk]

What Was Mine.

Pairing: Eren x F!Reader, Jean x F!Reader

Word Count: 10K

Summary: Your older sister, Mikasa, steals your first love so you get your lick back. But it becomes a little more complicated…

A/N: Ahhhh, my first fic on here!! Let me know your thoughts and if you’d like to see an alternative version because I wrote this like 3 different times before settling on this one LOL.

(Warnings are below the undercut)

Warning(s): Angst, reader is adopted, cheating, heavy betrayal, rough sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, overstimulation, dirty talk, possessive!eren, multiple orgasms, dry humping, teasing, begging, cum eating, unprotected sex (wrap ur Willy pls), lowkey sad reader but it gets better, happy ending

I will post this on AO3 as soon as I get invited which should be around sometime next week!

There was a time when Jean was your everything. The boy who made your heart race, the one you thought you'd grow old with. He was your first love, your best friend—the one person who made the world feel small and safe with just a look. You were so sure of him, so certain that no matter what, he’d always be yours.

You met him at a party. One of those suffocating high school gatherings where the air was thick with sweat and cheap beer, where kids who barely liked each other pretended they were family for the night. You weren’t supposed to be there—Mikasa had dragged you along, making it clear she wasn’t going to hold your hand or play babysitter.

She didn’t say it outright, but you knew what she was thinking. You were only there because of her. Because her parents had taken you in, raised you as their own. Because no matter how many years passed, no matter how many times people called you “sisters,” you would always be the outsider.

And then there was Jean.

He was leaning against the kitchen counter, red solo cup in hand, grinning at something Connie had said. His laughter was loud, careless, the kind that filled a room without trying. The dim lighting made the sharp angles of his face more defined, casting shadows that made him look older than he was. He exuded confidence—comfortable in his own skin in a way most high school boys weren’t.

Then, as if sensing your gaze, he looked at you.

And for a second, everything else—the music, the voices, the heat of the packed house—faded into the background.

You turned away quickly, pulse stammering in your throat, but it was too late. The moment had already settled into your bones, anchoring itself somewhere deep, somewhere permanent.

The party moved on without you. People came and went, music thumped against the walls, conversations turned to white noise. But you felt his presence like a weight against your skin. Every time you dared to glance in his direction, he was already looking back.

It wasn’t until much later, when the night had blurred into a drunken haze of movement and sound, that fate intervened. Someone shoved past you in the crowd, sending you stumbling forward—right into him.

A hand caught your wrist, steadying you before you could fall.

"Woah, you good?" His voice was smooth up close, warmer than you expected.

You lifted your head, suddenly hyper aware of how close you were. The scent of him—something faintly like cologne, something distinctly his—lingered between you.

"Yeah," you managed, breathless. "Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention."

Jean smirked. It wasn’t mocking—it was curious, amused, like he’d just discovered something interesting.

"You’re Mikasa’s sister, right?"

There it was again. That title.

It shouldn’t have bothered you, but it did. You were used to hearing it, used to the way people looked at you when they said it. Like they were reminding you of something you were supposed to remember.

You nodded, half-expecting him to brush you off, to turn back to his friends. But he didn’t. Instead, he let his gaze flicker over you, something unreadable in his expression.

"You want a drink?" he asked, and somehow, it felt less like a question and more like a challenge.

You weren’t sure why, but you followed him.

The next hour passed in a blur. You weren’t drinking much, but Jean was intoxicating enough on his own—his sharp wit, his effortless charm, the way he leaned in just a little when he talked to you, like you were the only person worth listening to. He had a way of making you feel seen, like every glance was intentional, like every smirk was meant just for you.

It was stupid, how easily he pulled you in. How quickly you forgot the world outside of this moment, this feeling.

And then, at some point, the night was over. The house was thinning out, the music quieter, the air cooler as you stepped outside. Jean walked with you, hands in his pockets, eyes flicking over to you in intervals like he was debating something.

Then, finally—hesitantly—he stopped.

"Hey," he said, voice softer than before. "I had fun tonight."

You looked up at him, searching his face, waiting for him to say something else. And when he didn’t, when he only stood there watching you, waiting, you knew.

It happened before you could overthink it. He leaned in first, but you met him halfway.

The kiss was slow, deliberate, lingering just long enough to make your chest tighten. His hands found your waist, fingers pressing lightly against the fabric of your shirt, grounding you. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t reckless—it was the kind of kiss that felt like a promise.

And back then, you believed in promises.

You were young. Naïve. Convinced that love, once found, couldn’t be undone.

Because at that moment, Jean was everything.

And he was for the last 4 years until his birthday night.

It was supposed to be his night. Jean’s 20th birthday—the one you’d planned so carefully, hoping to surprise him. You’d put everything together: the decorations, the cake, even his favorite drinks. You had spent hours making sure every detail was perfect because you knew how much he appreciated things like this. He came in, eyes wide in surprise, and when he saw you, there was that warmth in his expression—the kind that made your chest tighten. He was grateful, and you were too, basking in the glow of his genuine happiness.

The night went by in a blur of laughter, music, and clinking glasses. Jean spent time with his friends, and you were busy with yours, navigating the usual ebb and flow of a party. You watched him from across the room occasionally, smiling to yourself at how easy he was to talk to, how he’d light up a room just by being in it.

It wasn’t until it was time for the cake cutting that you realized he had slipped away. You looked around the crowded room, your gaze flicking to the spots where you’d seen him last, but he wasn’t there.

Curious, you made your way through the house, trying to spot him. Your eyes flicked over every face you passed, but he was nowhere to be found. Maybe he was in the backyard, you thought. You started searching the rooms upstairs, thinking maybe he just needed a moment to himself.

Then, as you walked past Mikasa’s door, you heard it.

His voice.

It made your blood run cold.

Without thinking, your hand reached for the door handle, a nervous tremor running through your fingers. The knob creaked under your touch, and as the door cracked open, your heart dropped straight into your stomach.

There they were.

Jean. Mikasa.

Kissing.

His hand in between your sister's legs and his other hand gripping on her breast. You froze, unable to tear your eyes away. Your lungs tightened, and before you knew it, tears started to blur your vision. The ache in your chest was so sharp, it felt like your entire world had just shattered.

They didn’t even notice you. Not at first. They were lost in each other. But when you sobbed—just once, a broken gasp of disbelief—it was enough to catch their attention.

Jean’s eyes widened in horror, and Mikasa, too, seemed startled, but the damage was done. You couldn’t move fast enough. Your body turned on its own accord, propelling you back downstairs, retreating into the chaos of the party.

The voices, the music, the laughter—it all collided in your mind, distorting everything around you. You didn’t care anymore. None of it mattered.

Your best friend grabbed hold of you, her face contorted in concern as she noticed your tear-streaked face and the way your breathing was shallow, rapid.

“Hey,” she said, voice trembling with worry. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

But you couldn’t speak. The words were tangled in your throat.

She rushed you out of the house and took you back to her place. Your phone buzzed in your pocket—Jean, messages, calls, apologies. You couldn’t bring yourself to read any of them. Without even thinking, you blocked Jean on everything. Facebook. Instagram. Texts. Calls. You didn’t want anything from him anymore.

You collapsed in her arms, sobbing until your body felt like it might break.

The blowout after that night was messy. People took sides. Jean and Mikasa’s friends stood by them, defending what they’d done, making excuses. But you couldn’t stomach it.

Even your parents, who didn’t agree with what Mikasa had done, found a way to justify it. “She’s your sister, and maybe they were in love. Maybe you were in the way of that.”

“Life is strange,” they said.

And through all of it, they expected you to forgive her. “Please, find it in your heart. She’s still your sister.”

It wasn’t that easy.

Time passed, and you focused on healing—on trying to forget, or at least bury the pain long enough to function. But the ache never really went away. Not when Mikasa and Jean made their relationship official. Not when she brought him around the house, acting like nothing had ever happened. And definitely not when you’d have to listen, helpless, to the sounds of them together.

The sound of her laughing, of their whispers, of him—him—with her, in the same spaces that used to feel like home.

The betrayal was a weight you couldn’t lift, and you started to wonder if you ever would.

Their relationship seemed to be smooth sailing after that. Mikasa and Jean were inseparable, the picture-perfect couple everyone admired. She flaunted it, of course. Every chance she got, she rubbed it in your face, whether it was with a sly comment, a smug smile, or the way she’d casually mention Jean’s name in conversation—like she had to make sure you knew, that you saw how happy she was. How perfect they were.

And it stung every time. Every time she smiled too brightly when she mentioned him, or when they’d show up together at family dinners, laughing, holding hands, as if everything was normal. But nothing felt normal. Not to you.

It wasn’t that you wanted Jean back. You’d buried that pain deep down, letting time work its numbing magic. But seeing them together—seeing her with him—was a constant reminder of how she had taken something you once thought was yours. And for what? Was it worth it? Was he worth all of this?

Then, a year later, Eren Yeager stepped into the picture, and suddenly, everything changed.

He was new to the city, fresh-faced and confident, a star on the court with a reputation that preceded him. He was everything Jean wasn’t—intense, magnetic, with a presence that made people stop and take notice. Eren wasn’t just another guy. He was the guy.

It didn’t take long for him to become well-known at university. You could see the effect he had on people—on the girls who couldn’t stop talking about him, on the guys who wanted to be him, and the way Mikasa’s eyes followed him whenever he walked by.

At first, you thought it was just harmless admiration. But soon, you could tell it was something more. You saw the way she’d pause when he entered the room, how her face softened in a way it never did around Jean.

And Jean noticed too. He wasn’t blind. It didn’t take long for him to start feeling the pressure—especially when Mikasa began to subtly pull away from him, her attention now split between her boyfriend and her new, undeniable crush.

Jean wasn’t the kind of guy to back down, but you could see it in his eyes, the insecurity creeping in. Mikasa was slipping from his grasp, and Eren was right there, making his move without even realizing it.

You, on the other hand, stayed quiet. You weren’t going to say anything. You weren’t going to make it worse. But it was hard not to notice the way Eren’s presence changed the dynamic—how Mikasa’s attention shifted.

It was like watching a slow-motion car crash and you couldn’t look away.

Connie and Sasha were quick to befriend Eren, welcoming him into their circle as if they’d known him for years. Mikasa, unsurprisingly, was thrilled, her excitement visible every time he was around. It didn’t take long for you to notice the shift. Jean, on the other hand, was becoming noticeably more distant, his cool façade hiding what was likely insecurity. He was fading from the group.

Then, one evening, it all came to light. Over a casual family dinner, Mikasa casually mentioned that she and Jean had split. No drama, no confrontation, just a matter-of-fact statement as though it didn’t matter.

And it hit you like a ton of bricks. Your sister had ruined something that was once beautiful—for no damn reason. Mikasa had always been so quick to go after what she wanted. Now, she had Eren, and you? Well, you were left to pick up the pieces of what she had torn apart.

It didn’t take long for Mikasa to set her sights on Eren. Within a month, they were official. She paraded him around like a trophy, gushing about how he was the captain of the basketball team, how he carried the team to victory every game. She thrived on the attention—not just from him, but from everyone else on campus. She was dating the golden boy, and she wanted everyone to know it.

But it all faltered when Eren met you.

It happened on a quiet evening. Your parents were away on business, Mikasa was supposed to be with Eren, and for once, you had the house to yourself. Dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts that barely passed as clothing and a loose tank top, you were sprawled out on the couch, enjoying the rare solitude.

Then the front door burst open.

You turned your head just as Mikasa rushed inside, Eren trailing behind her. You sat up slightly, the movement making your top slip lower, exposing more than enough to be considered inappropriate. Mikasa's eyes narrowed.

“What the hell are you wearing?” she snapped.

You blinked, feigning innocence. “Didn’t know you were coming back, let alone bringing someone. I’m just in my comfy clothes.” You shrugged, making no move to cover up.

It was then that you felt his stare.

Eren hadn’t looked away since the moment he walked in. His gaze was heavy, dark, lingering. He wasn’t subtle about it either, drinking you in like he was committing every inch of you to memory. And that’s when the idea struck.

At first, this was accidental. A chance encounter. But now? Now it was an opportunity.

You knew Mikasa better than anyone. You had watched her cycle through relationships, but never had she been as enamored as she was with Eren. It wasn’t just him—she loved what he represented. The status, the envy in other girls’ eyes when she walked into a room with him on her arm. He was an ego boost, a walking validation of her importance.

And you made it your mission to take him from her.

It started subtly. The skimpy outfits when he came over, the calculated flirting when Mikasa was too preoccupied scrolling through her phone to listen to him go on about last night’s game. But you listened. You engaged. You actually cared about what he had to say, and it didn’t help that you were breathtaking while doing it.

And Eren noticed.

The way his eyes lingered a second too long, the way his voice dropped when he spoke to you, the way he leaned in just a little closer than necessary. You could feel the shift, the unspoken tension building between you both. He was slipping, and you were ready to catch him.

Then, at some overcrowded party, it finally happened.

Mikasa was off somewhere, lost in the sea of her so-called friends, and you had been searching for him. You found him in the back of the house, seated on a couch, playing cards with a group of guys you didn’t recognize. The moment he spotted you, his lips curled into a smirk, and he patted the empty space beside him.

You didn’t hesitate.

They dealt you into the game, but neither of you were paying attention. His arm draped lazily across the back of the couch, his fingers tracing light patterns against your bare shoulder. You leaned into it, just slightly, but enough for him to notice.

The tension was suffocating, electric.

You weren’t sure who moved first. Maybe it was him, maybe it was you. But suddenly, his fingers were in your hair, tilting your head toward him, and your hands found his jaw, pulling him down. The moment your lips met, the rest of the world ceased to exist.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn't careful.

It was desperate.

Eren’s arm curled around your waist, dragging you onto his lap like he had been waiting for this moment all his life. His hands burned against your skin, his touch rough, hungry. The kiss deepened, his tongue sweeping past your lips, tasting like whiskey and recklessness.

The guys around you barely reacted, either too high to care or too used to this kind of debauchery. But it didn’t matter.

You feel the bulge growing in his pants and moan softly when the denim of his jeans slightly rubs against your clit. You try to pull away, just enough to see how far Eren is willing to go, to test him, to see if he’ll hesitate.

But he doesn’t.

His grip tightens around your waist, keeping you flush against him, his breath hot against your lips. His eyes, half-lidded and dark with something unmistakable—search yours, daring you to stop him.

“Eren, we can’t—” your voice is barely a whisper, a weak protest, but even you don’t believe it.

“Let’s go to my car,” he breathes, his lips brushing against your jaw, trailing lower, voice thick with want.

Your stomach flips. The rational part of your mind warns you, reminds you that Mikasa is somewhere in this house, that this is wrong.

But then his hands slide down your thighs, fingertips pressing into bare skin, and suddenly, you don’t care.

He pulls you out of the crowd and to his car, opening the back door and pushing you in before getting on top of you and kissing you all over. You laid on his back seat, dress pulled up to your stomach as Eren grinds his bulge against your slit. His hands roamed your body, exploring your curves with an urgency. He cupped your breast, his thumb brushing against your nipple, eliciting a gasp from you.

"Fuck, Eren," you moaned, leaning into his touch. He responded with a low growl, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses.

He moved between your legs, his fingers coming down and finding your pussy wet and ready. You let out a gasp as he began to tease you, his thumb circling your clit in a maddening rhythm.

You moaned louder, head falling back against the seat, surrendering to the pleasure. Eren continued his motions, his fingers dipping inside you, making you squirm with each thrust. "Eren please, m’ gonna cum," you panted, body trembling with the impending orgasm.

Eren didn't stop. He increased his pace, his fingers moving in and out of you, his thumb pressing against your clit. You came with a cry, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. But Eren wasn't done. He pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips and sucking them clean. "You taste so fucking good," he growled, his eyes dark with lust.

He moved lower, his hands pushing your legs apart. He buried his face between your thighs, his tongue finding your clit. “Eren!” You squeal, hands tangling in his hair as he begins to lick and suck, his tongue dipping inside you, tasting you. You come again, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

Eren moved back up, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips, a heady mix of arousal and his desire. You reached for his pants, your fingers fumbling with the zipper. You pulled his dick out, long and hard, ready for you to take.

You sat up and straddled him, his hand guiding his dick to your entrance. You sank down on him, taking him inch by inch. He filled you completely, stretching you more than Jean ever could. You begin to ride him, hips moving urgently, like you had been waiting for him your whole life. Eren's hands were everywhere, cupping your breasts, squeezing your ass, pulling your hair. He was rough, his touch bordering on painful, but it only served to heighten your pleasure.

“Fuck baby, you’re so fucking pretty. You have no idea how fucking long I’ve waited to do this.” he utters, thrusting his hips up to meet yours. You squeak in response, syncing up with his thrusts and nearly crying at the sheer pleasure he brought you as the tip of his dick reached your overstimulated g-spot.

You knew the car must be shaking but at that point you didn’t care. The world was second until you soaked his cock with your cum and nearly passed out in exhaustion. You’ve had sex countless times with Jean, but never once had he made you feel like this. You nearly laugh at yourself, at the absurdity of it all. You used to think Jean was everything, used to cry over him, used to let his half-assed love break you. But now? Now, with Eren fucking Yeager between your legs, making you feel things you didn’t even know were possible, you realize how foolish you were.

Mikasa really saved you from mediocre sex for the rest of your life.

The car reeked of sex, but neither of you minded. You were trying to collect yourself, touching up your makeup and hoping that feeling would come back to your legs, but Eren kept kissing on you.

“Eren, we have to go back, or people are gonna notice we’re MIA.”

“Let them notice,” he mutters against your skin, nuzzling into your neck and making you giggle.

“Stop, your girlfriend is going to have my head if she finds out.”

He pulls back slightly, green eyes locking onto yours. “We’re not gonna tell her?”

You give him a dumbfounded look. “Of course not! She’d kill me! Her room is right across from mine—there’s no doubt in my mind that she’d suffocate me with a pillow.”

Eren sighs, shaking his head. “It’s a shame. I wish I met you first.”

Your heart skips. But you recover quickly, tilting your head. “I’m not saying we can’t do this again.”

That makes him smirk. “Our little secret, huh?”

You lean in, pressing one more kiss to his lips before slipping out of the car and heading back inside.

After that night, things spiraled. Sneaking around became second nature—quickies in the janitor’s closet, locker rooms, empty classrooms, even a napping pod once. It was reckless. It was thrilling. And it didn’t help that Eren was so good. Too good.

Whenever he’d come over, you’d be lounging on the couch, and the second Mikasa got up to grab a snack, he’d have you pulled onto his lap, kissing you like he was starving. And before she could see, you’d be on the other end of the couch, casually scrolling through your phone, stifling laughter.

Then, it shifted. The secret dates started. And the biggest problem emerged—you were falling in love with him. And worse, he was falling in love with you.

The guilt set in. Not because you were sleeping with your sister’s boyfriend. No, you didn’t give a damn about that. But because you didn’t want Eren to feel like a pawn in your game. You didn’t want him to wake up one day, realize the truth, and feel used.

So, you came clean.

It was late. You’d already had sex, and now you were sitting in his car, eating ice cream. He could tell something was off. The ice cream was his way of cheering you up.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” His voice was gentle, but there was an edge of concern. “You’re being quiet. It’s freaking me out.”

You inhaled deeply. “If I asked you to break up with my sister for me, would you?”

“In a heartbeat.”

Your stomach dropped. That wasn’t the answer you were expecting.

“Why… Do you want me to?”

“I was just wondering why you haven’t already.”

He sighed, rubbing his jaw. “Because I don’t know what we are. I feel bad for dragging your sister along, but I don’t feel that connection with her. She tries to like my interests, tries to be a good girlfriend, but it all feels forced. With you… It’s just easy. Like you were made for me or something.”

His sincerity made your chest ache. Your eyes burned. He noticed immediately, setting his ice cream down and pulling you over the console onto his lap, reclining the seat so you could lay comfortably against him.

“Tell me what’s going on,” he murmured, voice softer now.

“I don’t think we can keep doing this, Eren.”

His jaw tightened. His arms locked around you like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers. “Don’t say that.”

You swallowed hard. “I feel bad for dragging you into this.”

“Why?”

You took a shaky breath and told him everything. About Jean. About Mikasa. About how the night you met him, you’d plotted to use him against her, knowing how much she liked him. By the time you finished, tears streamed down your face, the weight of your confession crushing you.

Eren’s expression hardened. His jaw clenched, fingers tapping against the steering wheel in a way that made your stomach twist. Then, without a word, he reached for the seat controls, pushing it back into place before lifting you off his lap and setting you back into the passenger seat. The silence was suffocating.

You buried your face in the sleeve of your sweater, unable to look at him as he started the car. The drive back was agonizing. He didn’t speak, didn’t even glance in your direction. When he finally pulled up a block away from your house, he didn’t tell you to get out, didn’t ask if you were okay. He just waited. Watched. And the second you slipped inside, he sped off, leaving you alone with the hollow ache in your chest.

Eren didn’t message you after that. And you didn’t reach out to him either. He was still with Mikasa, and that broke you more than you wanted to admit. You avoided them, choosing to immerse yourself in school, in your friends—anything to keep yourself from falling apart.

But Eren saw you. And when he did, his stare burned into you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

Then, as if to twist the knife deeper, he became the perfect boyfriend. Mikasa was happier than ever, always by his side, gushing about their dates, his sweet gestures, the way he looked at her like she hung the stars. And you? You were unraveling.

You tried to distract yourself—drinks at random bars, meaningless hookups with men who never once made you feel the way Eren did. But it only made things worse. Left you feeling emptier, dirtier. So you stopped. Chose to rot in your bed instead, watching mindless shows to drown out your thoughts.

Then one night, everything changed.

It was late, the house quiet except for the hum of your TV. Mikasa had left hours ago, off to some party, giddy about spending the weekend with Eren. Your parents were away too, leaving you entirely alone. It was supposed to be peaceful.

But then came the pounding on the front door.

Your heart lurched as you glanced at the window, spotting Eren’s car parked outside.

What the hell?

You grabbed a bat before making your way downstairs, your pulse hammering. Peeking through the peephole, you saw him—his expression unreadable, chest rising and falling heavily.

You hesitated, but opened the door anyway.

“You scared the hell—”

Eren pushed past you, eyes scanning the room before snatching the bat from your hand. He didn’t stop, storming up the stairs like a man possessed.

“Eren, what the fuck are you doing?” You shut the door and followed after him, heart pounding.

He threw open your bedroom door, searching like a madman—checking under your bed, inside your closet, even the bathroom. Then he turned to you, eyes dark, wild.

“Where is he?”

“What?”

“Jean.” His voice was a growl. “I know he’s here. Don’t fucking lie to me.”

You stared at him, utterly baffled. “Jean? Why the fuck would he be here?” You argue.

Eren’s jaw tightened as he stepped closer, backing you against the wall. His scent surrounded you—faint cologne mixed with something desperate, something unhinged.

“Your friend told me he was here,” he said through gritted teeth. “And Jean was nowhere to be fucking seen at that party.”

Your brows furrowed. “My friend?” You turned your phone over and sure enough, there was a notification from her: ‘Angry Eren headed your way ����.’

You exhaled, rolling your eyes as you showed him the screen. “She lied to you. He’s not here.”

Eren’s eyes flickered with relief for only a second before something darker took over. He grabbed your phone, tossed it onto the bed, and then his lips crashed onto yours.

“Fuck it,” he muttered between kisses, hands gripping your waist. “I can’t stop fucking thinking about you.”

You gasped as he pushed you onto the mattress, his weight pressing down on you. His fingers trailed up your thigh, squeezing, possessive.

“You have me so fucking crazy in the head,” he rasped against your lips. “Had me leaving a party, abandoning my girlfriend to see if you were with that piece of shit.”

His mouth was everywhere—your neck, your jaw, your collarbone. Desperate. Consuming.

“Thought I could ignore you. Move the fuck on after you used me like that. But fuck,” his teeth grazed your skin, making you shudder, “I can’t stop thinking about you. I close my fucking eyes, and I see you. I get into my car, and I miss you. I read our messages every fucking day, hoping you’ll reach out. But you never fucking did.”

His words made your chest tighten, your hands fisting his hoodie. “Eren…”

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, breath uneven. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured. “And I will.”

But you didn’t.

Instead, you pulled him closer, sealing your fate with a kiss that tasted like everything you’d been running from.

Eren’s lips trail down your jaw, rough and desperate, his breath heavy against your skin. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s kissing you again, like he’s trying to make up for every second he spent ignoring you. His hands are gripping your waist, fingers digging in like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“You fucking ruined me,” he mutters against your lips, his voice low, strained. “Made me lose my fucking mind. Do you know how many times I’ve been this close—” his hand moves up your thigh, pushing your tank top higher “—to driving to your house in the middle of the night?”

Your heart is hammering against your ribs, but you manage to whisper, “Then why didn’t you?”

His eyes darken, and suddenly, he’s flipping you onto your back, pressing you into the mattress. “Because you didn’t fucking reach out,” he growls. “You left me there, made me think I was just a fucking game to you.”

You shake your head, fingers gripping the back of his neck. “It wasn’t like that. I swear.”

Eren scoffs. “Then why’d you do it? Huh?” He’s searching your face, looking for something—maybe a reason not to hate you, not to love you as much as he does. “Why’d you play with me like that?”

Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. You don’t even know if you can say it. But when you look into his eyes, into the frustration, the longing, the hurt—you know you have to.

“I was angry,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper. “Mikasa… she took everything from me. I just wanted to take something from her for once.”

Eren’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t loosen his grip on you, doesn’t stop looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

“Then why does it feel like I’m the one who took something from you?” he mutters.

You swallow hard. “Because I didn’t expect to fall for you.”

Eren exhales sharply, like the words just knocked the air out of him. His fingers tighten on your hips, and he curses under his breath before pressing his forehead against yours.

“Say it again,” he murmurs.

Your breath hitches. “Eren—”

“Say it again.” His voice is hoarse, pleading. His lips ghost over yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. Not yet.

You close your eyes, hands trembling as they tangle in his hair. And then, softly, “I fell for you.”

A sound leaves his throat—something between a sigh and a groan—before he’s crashing his lips into yours, kissing you like he’s starving, like he’s been waiting for this moment since the day you walked out of his car.

And maybe he has.

Eren’s hands are everywhere—gripping your thighs, sliding under your shirt, tilting your chin up so he can kiss you deeper. It’s messy, desperate, all-consuming. You feel like you’re drowning in him, in the way he holds you like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers.

“You’re mine,” he breathes against your lips, like he’s making a vow. His hands tighten around your waist, pressing you closer to him. “I don’t give a fuck about anything else. I don’t care what we were supposed to be—I just know I can’t lose you again.”

Your chest is heaving, heart pounding so loud you’re sure he can hear it. “Eren…”

“I mean it,” he growls, his lips ghosting over your jaw, down your neck. “I don’t care about Mikasa. I don’t care about Jean. I don’t care about whatever the fuck happened before—I just want you.”

Your breath catches, fingers trembling as they dig into his shoulders. “Eren, if we do this… there’s no going back.”

“Good,” he mutters, pressing his forehead against yours. His eyes are wild, pupils blown wide. “I don’t fucking want to go back.”

And then he’s kissing you again, harder this time, like he’s trying to fuse himself to you. Like he’s trying to make up for every second you spent apart.

You don’t stop him. You don’t want to.

You let him pull you closer, let him steal the breath from your lungs, let him drag you under because if this is what drowning feels like—being swallowed whole by Eren Yeager—you don’t ever want to come up for air.

Eren’s hands slide under your shirt, rough palms grazing over your heated skin. He’s impatient—grabbing, pulling, desperate to feel more of you, like he’s scared you’ll slip away if he lets go for even a second.

“Tell me you missed me,” he pants against your lips, his breath hot, his voice low and dangerous.

You swallow hard, head spinning. “Eren—”

“Say it.” His fingers dig into your hips, his jaw clenched so tight you think he might shatter. “Tell me you fucking missed me like I missed you.”

Your throat is dry, your heart slamming against your ribs. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction, don’t want to let him know just how badly you’ve been aching for him, but you can’t lie. Not to him.

“I missed you,” you whisper, voice barely above a breath.

His eyes darken, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah?”

You nod, hands gripping his shoulders, trying to ground yourself, but he’s everywhere—filling your senses, stealing the air from your lungs.

He leans in, lips brushing over your ear. “Then show me.”

And just like that, all hesitation crumbles. You crash into him, fingers threading through his hair as you kiss him like you’ll never get the chance again. He groans against your mouth, hands roaming your body like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead pressing against yours. His eyes, normally sharp and cold, are burning with something raw, something unspoken.

“You’re mine,” he breathes. It’s not a question. It’s not a request. It’s a fucking fact.

And for the first time, you don’t want to fight it.

You nod. “I’m yours.”

Eren lets out a shaky breath, like he’s been waiting forever to hear you say that. Then, with a smirk, he grips your chin, tilting your face up to his.

“Damn right you are.”

Eren doesn’t waste another second. His hands are everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding up your shirt, his fingers digging into your skin like he wants to pull you inside him.

“You have no fucking idea what you do to me,” he growls against your lips, yanking your body flush against his. You can feel him—hard, throbbing, pressing into you like he’s already lost all patience.

You whimper, fingers twisting in his hair as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, your throat, sucking at your pulse just to hear you gasp.

“Eren—”

“Shhh, baby,” he murmurs, voice husky as he nips at your collarbone. “I got you.”

His hands slip under your shirt, pushing it up, his thumbs brushing over your heated skin. He pulls back just enough to yank it over your head, tossing it somewhere in the room before his mouth is on you again—hot, wet kisses trailing lower, lower.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he mutters, his breath fanning over your stomach. “So fucking perfect for me.”

You arch into him as his fingers slide under the waistband of your shorts, playing with the elastic. He looks up at you through heavy-lidded eyes, his smirk downright sinful.

“Tell me how bad you want me,” he teases, voice dripping with arrogance.

You bite your lip, your body screaming for him. “Eren, please.”

His smirk grows. “That’s my girl.”

He tugs your shorts down in one swift motion, leaving you bare beneath him. His eyes darken, his tongue swiping over his lips as he takes you in.

“Fuck,” he groans, gripping your thighs and spreading them apart. “Been dreaming about this.”

Your breath hitches as he kisses the inside of your thigh, his hands gripping your legs like he never wants to let go.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?” he murmurs, teasingly slow, lips ghosting over where you need him most.

You nod frantically, hands reaching for him, but he only chuckles. “Use your words.”

“Eren, please,” you gasp, squirming under his touch.

He grins against your skin.

Eren groans, low and deep, like he’s barely holding himself together. His hands grip your thighs, fingers digging into your skin as he spreads you wider beneath him, his breath ghosting over your most sensitive spot.

"Fuck," he rasps, voice rough with need. "You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this."

His lips skim over the inside of your thigh, slow, teasing, his tongue flicking on your clit just to feel you shudder. He smirks against your skin, eyes dark as he watches you squirm.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice thick with hunger. "Already dripping for me. So fucking perfect, baby."

You whimper, arching toward him, but he just chuckles, gripping your hips to hold you down. "Patience, sweetheart," he taunts, pressing a lingering kiss right where you need him most—just barely, just enough to make you gasp.

"Eren," you plead, voice breathless, fingers threading into his hair to tug him closer.

He groans at that, his control slipping. "Shit, you’re gonna fucking ruin me."

Then he’s on you—hot, relentless, devouring you like he’s been starving for this moment. His tongue flicks, his lips suck, his grip tightens as he pulls you closer, deeper, like he wants to drown in you.

Your back arches, a cry spilling from your lips, and Eren growls in satisfaction. "That’s it, baby. Let me hear you," he rasps against your skin, his pace ruthless now.

You’re already trembling, teetering on the edge, and he knows it. He feels it. He fucking loves it.

"Come on, pretty girl," he coaxes, voice rough, hands gripping you even tighter. "Give it to me. Let me taste you fall apart."

Eren is relentless. His grip on your thighs is bruising, his fingers digging into your skin like he’s trying to claim every inch of you. His tongue flicks, slow and deliberate, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive spot just to suck—hard.

Your body jolts, a sharp gasp escaping before you can stop it, and Eren groans at the sound like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. "Fuck, baby," he rasps, his voice muffled against you. "You taste so fucking good."

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even slow down. His tongue moves with precision, stroking, circling, teasing, while his hands keep you pinned, leaving you completely at his mercy.

You squirm, panting, your fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him closer. He groans at that, the vibration of it sending shockwaves straight through you.

"Eren—oh my god—"

He chuckles darkly, lifting his head just enough to meet your dazed, desperate eyes. His lips are glistening, his pupils blown wide with hunger. "That’s right, baby," he murmurs, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip. "Say my fucking name."

Then his fingers join the mix—two of them sliding inside, slow, stretching you, curling just right as his mouth latches onto you again. The combination is devastating. Mind-numbing.

Your back arches, a broken moan spilling from your lips as pleasure crashes over you, and Eren growls in satisfaction, his grip tightening, his pace ruthless.

"That’s it, sweetheart," he groans, his fingers curling deeper, his mouth working you over mercilessly. "Let me feel you come for me."

You shatter. Your whole body tenses, thighs trembling around his head as the pleasure rips through you, wave after wave. Eren doesn’t let up—he keeps going, dragging you through it, devouring every second of your undoing like he lives for this.

When you finally slump against the bed, boneless, breathless, he presses one last kiss to your sensitive skin before making his way up your body—hot, open-mouthed kisses trailing up your stomach, your ribs, your throat.

By the time he reaches your lips, he’s grinning, cocky and devastating. "You’re so fucking pretty when you come," he murmurs, dragging his thumb over your swollen lips.

Then he kisses you—deep, slow, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His hips press against yours, hard and insistent, reminding you just how much he needs you.

Eren doesn’t give you a second to recover. His hands are everywhere—gripping your hips, trailing up your stomach, pressing into your thighs like he owns you. His mouth is back on yours, hot and desperate, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes you whimper.

"Fuck," he groans, grinding against you, making sure you feel how hard he is. "You feel that, baby? This is what you do to me."

His hands slip beneath you, gripping your ass, pulling you against him harder, and you can feel him, thick and throbbing, pressing against your slick heat through his sweats. It’s not enough. It’s nowhere near enough.

"Eren," you gasp, your nails raking down his back, dragging over the firm muscles beneath his skin.

He growls at that, teeth grazing over your jaw, nipping at the sensitive spot beneath your ear. "You like driving me crazy, don’t you?" he mutters, voice rough, his breath hot against your skin. "You like knowing I can barely fucking think when I’m touching you?"

You moan, thighs squeezing around his waist, desperate for more friction, more him.

He smirks against your throat. "I can feel you dripping for me, baby. You want it that bad?"

"Yes," you whimper, back arching as he grinds against you again, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body. "Eren, please—"

"Shit, you sound so pretty when you beg," he groans, his lips dragging lower, lower, his teeth scraping over your collarbone before he sucks, leaving a mark—his mark. "Say it again."

You’re already dizzy with need, your fingers twisting in his hair as you pull him closer. "Please, Eren," you gasp. "I need you. Need all of you—"

His control snaps.

He sits up, yanking his hoodie over his head, tossing it somewhere behind him. His eyes are dark, ravenous, as he watches you, chest heaving, lips swollen from his kisses.

"You’re gonna be the fucking death of me," he mutters, his hands hooking into the waistband of his sweats, pushing them down.

And then he’s there, bare and thick and aching for you, his cock standing proud against his stomach. Your breath catches because fuck, he’s big—so big it has your thighs squeezing together in anticipation.

Eren sees it. Loves it. His smirk turns wicked, one hand stroking himself as he watches you with those heavy-lidded, lust-filled eyes.

"What’s wrong, sweetheart?" he teases, voice dripping with arrogance. "You think you can take me?"

You swallow hard, your whole body burning. "I—I want to."

That does it.

"Fuck," he growls, surging forward, caging you beneath him again. His lips crash against yours, desperate, hungry, his cock pressing against your entrance, teasing, taunting. "I got you, baby. I’ll make it fit."

His fingers trail down, teasing your slit, groaning at how soaked you are for him. "So fucking wet," he mutters. "All for me."

Then, without warning, he thrusts—slow, deep, stretching you open inch by inch. A strangled moan rips from your throat, your nails digging into his shoulders as he fills you completely.

"Fuck," he grits out, his forehead dropping against yours, his breath ragged. "You feel so fucking good, baby. So tight, so perfect for me."

You’re gasping, legs wrapping around him, overwhelmed by the way he stretches you, the way he owns you.

Eren groans, his hands gripping your hips as he pulls back before slamming into you again, his jaw clenched, his control fraying. "Oh, baby," he pants, setting a deep, punishing pace. "You’re gonna fucking ruin me."

Eren is gone. Completely wrecked, consumed, feral. His grip on your hips is bruising, his thrusts deep and devastating, like he’s trying to carve himself into you, like he wants to ruin you for anyone else.

"You feel that, baby?" he growls, his voice all grit and desperation. His forehead presses against yours, his breath ragged as he drives into you, hitting just right, making you gasp. "Feel how good you take me? Fuck—you were made for me."

Your nails scrape down his back, leaving red-hot lines in their wake, and Eren groans, his pace stuttering for a second.

"Shit," he pants, his hands sliding down your body, grabbing at your thighs, pulling them higher around his waist. "You’re so fucking tight—so perfect, baby. Squeezing me so good."

You can’t even speak, can’t do anything but take it, your body trembling beneath him as pleasure builds like a wildfire. Every drag of his cock against your walls, every filthy, desperate moan that spills from his lips, sends you spiraling higher.

And he knows it.

Eren watches you with hooded eyes, his expression downright sinful as he slows just to tease, rolling his hips in deep, controlled thrusts that have your back arching off the bed.

"You gonna come for me, sweetheart?" he murmurs, dragging his tongue over your throat, biting down just enough to make you cry out. "I can feel it. You’re so fucking close."

You are. Your entire body is burning, your muscles tensing, the pressure coiling tighter, tighter—

"Come on, baby," he coaxes, one hand slipping between you, his fingers finding your clit, circling it in slow, teasing strokes that have you whimpering. "Give it to me. Let me feel you."

And that’s it. The pleasure snaps, crashing over you in a blinding, breathless wave. Your body convulses, your back bowing, your walls pulsing around him as you shatter with a strangled moan of his name.

Eren loses it.

"Fuck, that’s it, baby," he groans, his pace turning desperate, sloppy, chasing his own high. "Shit—gonna fill you up—fuck—"

With one last, deep thrust, he breaks, his body tensing as he spills inside you, groaning your name like a fucking prayer. His grip on you is tight, like he never wants to let go, his breath hot and ragged against your skin as he rides out his release.

For a moment, all you can do is breathe, tangled together, your bodies slick with sweat, the air thick with heat and satisfaction.

Then Eren lifts his head, a lazy, cocky smirk curving his lips as he brushes a damp strand of hair from your face.

"You okay, baby?" he murmurs, his voice low, teasing. "Did I fuck you stupid?"

You glare at him—weakly, still dazed—and he grins, chuckling as he presses a slow, lingering kiss to your swollen lips.

"That was just the first round, sweetheart," he murmurs against your mouth, his fingers already trailing down your body again.

"You did say you needed more, didn’t you?"

Eren doesn’t even let you breathe. He’s still inside you, still hard, still fucking hungry, and from the way his hands are already trailing lower, gripping your thighs like he owns you, you know he’s not done.

Not even close.

"You thought I was finished with you?" he taunts, voice thick, teasing, dripping with arrogance. He rolls his hips—slow, deep—making you whimper at the overstimulation, and fuck, his smirk is wicked.

"You can take it, can’t you, baby?" he murmurs, fingers tracing over your swollen, sensitive clit just to tease. "Be my good girl and let me ruin you."

You’re still shaking from your last orgasm, body sensitive, nerves on fire, but that only makes it better. Your head lolls back, a needy whine slipping from your lips, and Eren grins.

"That’s what I fucking thought."

Before you can respond, he moves. Fast. Suddenly, you’re flipped onto your stomach, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you onto your knees. His chest is warm, burning against your back as he leans down, his teeth nipping at your earlobe.

"You’re so fucking pretty like this," he groans, his cock pressing against your soaked folds, sliding through your slick without pushing in. Teasing. Torturing. "All spread out for me. Ready to be fucked proper."

You’re desperate. Arching your back, pressing against him, trying to push yourself onto his cock, but he just laughs.

"Needy little thing," he coos, one hand wrapping around your throat, pulling you back against his chest. His other hand dips between your legs, fingers sliding through your wetness, making you tremble.

"You want it that bad, huh?" he murmurs, pressing a soft, almost mocking kiss to your temple. His fingers glide up, circling your clit, barely touching—just enough to make you squirm.

"Eren, please," you whimper, your voice already wrecked.

He groans at that, his grip tightening. "Fuck, baby," he breathes. "I love when you beg."

Then, without warning, he slams into you.

A guttural moan rips from your throat as he bottoms out in one thrust, stretching you all over again. His grip on your throat tightens, his breath hot against your ear.

"You feel that, baby?" he growls. "Feel how deep I am?"

You can barely think. Your fingers claw at the sheets, your body arching, completely at his mercy.

Eren loves it. Loses himself in it. He pulls back and thrusts again—hard, deep, his pace brutal. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, filthy, obscene, mixed with his low groans and your desperate, broken moans.

"You’re taking me so fucking well," he grits out, his hand sliding from your throat down to your mouth. His fingers press against your lips, and when you gasp, he shoves them inside.

"Suck," he commands, voice raw, and fuck, you do—hollowing your cheeks, moaning around his fingers as he fucks into you even harder.

His growl is pure filth.

"Shit, you’re so fucking nasty," he groans, his other hand coming down on your ass—hard. You gasp, the sting of it making you clench around him, and Eren loses it.

"Oh, you like that, huh?" he taunts, his pace somehow turning even more devastating. "Like being fucked like a little slut?"

You whimper, drool slipping down your chin, body shaking as pleasure builds like a fucking storm.

"You gonna come for me again, baby?" he pants, yanking his fingers from your mouth, trailing them down between your legs. He finds your clit and rubs in tight, fast circles, making you wail.

"You’re so fucking close, aren’t you?" he growls. "Come on, baby. Make a mess all over my cock."

And then you snap.

Your vision blurs, your body convulsing as a scream rips from your throat. You come so hard it nearly knocks you flat, your walls pulsing around him, milking his cock, dragging him to his own breaking point.

"Fuck," he snarls, his thrusts turning sloppy, desperate. "Fuck, fuck, fuck—"

Then he shatters, his entire body tensing as he spills inside you, filling you up with a guttural moan of your name. His grip on your waist is bruising, his body collapsing against yours as he grinds his hips, riding out every last pulse of pleasure.

For a moment, neither of you can move. You’re both wrecked, sweaty, panting, tangled together in the best possible way.

Then Eren chuckles—low, breathless, still cocky as hell.

"Holy shit," he pants, pressing lazy kisses to your spine.

Your whole body is shaking, skin burning, sweat dripping—but Eren? That man is insatiable.

You barely have time to catch your breath before he’s moving again, hands gripping your hips hard, pulling you up onto all fours. You let out a weak, breathless moan, and he grins—that wicked, cocky, downright sinful grin.

"Aww, what’s wrong, baby?" he coos, teasing, breath hot against your ear. "Too much for you?"

You don’t even get a chance to answer before he spanks you—hard—his palm coming down on your ass with a sharp crack, making you jolt.

Your gasp turns into a moan, and Eren laughs, the sound deep and filthy.

"Ohhh, you like that, don’t you?" he taunts, rubbing over the stinging skin, his voice dripping with amusement. "Such a dirty little thing. Getting all wet just from being put in your place."

You whimper, back arching, needing more.

"Use your words," he warns, fingers teasing at your entrance, rubbing through your slick but not giving you what you want.

"Eren, please," you gasp, pushing back against him, desperate, needy. "I want you."

"Yeah?" he breathes, leaning down, his teeth grazing your shoulder. "Want me to fuck you stupid again?"

"Yes—yes, please," you beg, voice wrecked, trembling beneath him.

He groans, dragging his cock through your wetness, teasing, taunting, making you squirm.

"Since you asked so nicely," he mutters.

And then he slams into you.

A wail rips from your throat as he fills you to the hilt, stretching you open all over again. Eren grunts, gripping your hips so hard you know you’ll have bruises tomorrow—but you don’t care.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, pulling back just to thrust into you again, setting a brutal pace. "You love this, don’t you? Getting fucked like a little whore?"

You can’t even answer—can barely breathe. Your fingers claw at the sheets, your mouth open in a silent moan as he wrecks you.

Eren notices.

He laughs, breathless and cocky, and suddenly, his fingers are tangling in your hair, yanking your head back so your back arches perfectly for him.

"Aww, is it too much?" he teases, his voice mocking, his pace relentless. "Look at you, baby—drooling for me, fucking shaking, taking every inch like a good little slut."

You whimper, body trembling, completely at his mercy.

"Say it," he growls, snapping his hips so deep you swear you see stars. "Say you’re my little slut."

"I—I’m your little slut," you gasp, the words wrecked, choked.

"Fuck," he groans, his cock twitching inside you. "Good fucking girl."

Then he’s really losing control. His hand slips between your legs, fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight, brutal circles that have you screaming.

"You gonna come for me again, baby?" he taunts, his breath hot against your ear. "Gonna make a fucking mess all over my cock?"

You can’t stop it. The pleasure crashes over you, tearing you apart, your body convulsing, your walls pulsing so tight around him that he growls.

"Shit," he grits out, his pace turning desperate, erratic, wrecked. "Gonna fucking fill you up, baby—fuck—"

With a deep, guttural groan, he snaps, his body tensing as he spills inside you, hips jerking, grinding, making sure you take every drop.

For a moment, all you can do is breathe, both of you shaking, panting, wrecked.

Then Eren chuckles, low and teasing, pressing a lazy, cocky kiss to your shoulder.

Your whole body is spent, muscles trembling, skin hot and slick with sweat. The air is thick, the room still humming with the aftershocks of what just happened, but before you can even think about moving, Eren is already on you.

Strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close, and the second your body melts into his, he lets out the softest sigh. His lips press lazy, feather-light kisses to your shoulder, up your neck, across your jaw—slow, tender, like he’s savoring you.

"You okay, baby?" he murmurs, voice low, husky, but gentle now. The contrast from the way he was just wrecking you makes your heart ache in the best way.

You hum, still a little dazed, nuzzling into his chest. "Mmmhmm."

He chuckles, all warm and fond, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. "That’s not a real answer," he teases, fingers tracing lazy circles over your spine.

You smile sleepily, turning your face up toward him. "I’m good," you mumble, voice soft, satisfied. "So good."

Eren grins, his hand sliding down to your thigh, kneading it gently, soothing over the marks his fingers left behind. "You sure? You need anything?"

You shake your head, completely content, but that doesn’t stop him from fussing over you. He shifts, reaching for something—his discarded shirt—before gently wiping you down, murmuring little praises under his breath.

"So fucking perfect," he whispers, pressing another soft kiss to your shoulder. "So good for me."

When he’s done, he tosses the shirt aside, pulling you right against his chest, wrapping you up in his arms like he never wants to let go.

“What’re you going to do about her?” Eren follows your gaze that’s on his phone with Mikasa’s name flashing on it. “I already told you what I’m gonna do. She’s nobody to me.” He whispers, his fingers running through your hair down to your back.

A small pause follows.

"Stay right here, baby," he murmurs, tucking your head under his chin, his fingers stroking slow, soothing patterns into your back.

You sigh, completely boneless, curling into him. "Not going anywhere," you mumble. "Ever."

Eren chuckles, the sound soft, sweet. "Good," he murmurs, tilting your chin up just to steal one more slow, sleepy kiss. "Mine."

[eclipseslayer]

thinking hard ab bodyguard!toji @~@

like he knooowsss he shouldn’t but ur just so sweet and naïve and these stupid idiot boys that break ur heart are no good for uuu

like it’s obviously a lil dubious and wrong cus he’s hired to be ur bodyguard, not to fuck you but he wants to keep u safe from guys who’ll just hirt you.

that is his job, after all. to keep u safe

n e way i hope you have a goood day ^-^

-🫐

ahhhh!!!! I kinda made this soft... <3 I hope u like it <3

Bodyguard!Toji who's watched over you since you were a fresh actress, staring in small indie films until you were starring on the big screen.

Bodyguard!Toji who's watched you sift through relationships, moving on over, and over again, and getting your heart broken one too many times.

Bodyguard!Toji who begins to feel sorry for you, each time you get your heart broken. You'll go to him, and cry to him about your ex, hugging him and burying your face into his warm, broad chest, meanwhile he has no choice but to soothe you by rubbing your back warmly.

Bodyguard!Toji who rolls his eyes a time or two every time you come to him to complain about your ex, but, despite his harsh exterior, he actually wishes he could comfort you and tell you that everything's going to be okay, and that he wouldn't let these douchebags break your heart ever again.

Bodyguard!Toji who one day cups your face, and strokes it with his thumb, wiping away your tears, he says he wishes he could protect you from all of these men who break your heart.

Bodyguard!Toji who then leans down and kisses your cheek, leaving you in surprise. He'll chuckle at that, and then he'll finally kiss you on the mouth, claiming you as he kisses you.

Bodyguard!Toji who then ends up fucking you, telling you that he's the one who's going to protect you, and who won't ever let anyone break your heart ever again.

[servicpop]

CAN SOMEONE BE MY ADRIEN RN 😭 !! Anyways, what if Adrien asked Y/N to their prom?! isn't that the cutest thing?! is up to you if you gonna make it nsfw! I REALLY NEED HIM !! 🥲 AHHHH (love your page! so glad I found it 🫶🏻)

had so little time cus of work so let me write up something quick !

NSFW ; fingering & overstim

"Who are you taking out to prom, Adrien?" It was a question Adrien never really thought about. The obvious answer was... you, so he had completely forgotten the fact that you two weren't exclusive, or public yet. "Dunno, might just skip it," Adrien shrugged, pushing himself off the cobble pavement and brushed off the dirt from his clothes. The guys just laughed, nudging him with their elbows and patting him on the back, typical Adrien, they all remarked. Now came the complicated part, actually asking you out and playing it off so you won't get found out.

He decided a few weeks before prom day to ask you out. It was a Saturday evening, you were in your room filling out some paperwork for the school. It was crazy how much of a burden the school dumped onto you just because you were the student president. Your phone buzzed on your table, causing you to flinch from the unexpected notification from Adrien.

Look outside ur window I got a surprise for u

It has become normal for Adrien to sneak in through your window. You didn't know how your parents would react to seeing someone like Adrien, and you sure didn't want to risk it so you never actually asked them if Adrien could come in. The chair creaked as it rolled, allowing you to get up and walk to your window. You peered through the glass to look down at your yard, seeing Adrien standing on the grass with flowers in his hand and a large cardboard cut out with poorly drawn glittery words that were practically ineligible from his handwriting. You could tell he used glue and threw glitter on it from the way the letters drooped and melted.

You turned away from the window and went back to work.

You had barely gotten back on your chair until you heard your window slam open and Adrien jump in. How did he get into your room on the 2nd floor? Who knows. A few petals scattered onto your floor and Adrien dropped the cardboard cutout onto the floor, striding to where you were standing. "I'm not leaving until I hear a yes," Adrien grinned, placing the bruised flowers onto your desk and wrapping his arms around your waist, hoisting you up into the air and placing you back down onto your bed.

You don't know how long he's been at it. He has you laying ontop of him, back to his chest and three fingers slowly pumping in and out of you. There was already white all over your abdomen from your previous orgasms. His left hand is working on your spent cock, rubbing the tip over and over again. His fingers are sodden with your pre-cum that continued to leak out your slit despite how many times you've cum. "Adrien— please I can't take anymore," Your whole body screams with pleasure but your mind is so blank you can't even think a full sentence.

"Not stopping till you say yes," Adrien cooed, rubbing circles along your cockhead that sent shivers down your spine. He knew exactly all the spots you're weak in and all the spots that would drive you insane. Your pride wouldn't let you say yes, how could he even attend prom with you without it being a huge give away to their relationship? But now, all you could think of was his calloused hands rubbing so sweetly at all your spots. His fingers squelched as they pushed deeper, pressing against your prostate once more.

"C'mon just tell me you'll go to prom will me, I'll work double shift to buy you a suit if you want—" "I'll go to prom with you." "I'll even rent a car— huh?" Adrien paused, instantly sitting up to look at your face. It took a moment of pause before a toothy smile spread across Adrien's face, "Really?" You barely nod, your body as so spent from Adrien's torture. Adrien slides his fingers out of you, and wraps his arms around your shoulders in a bear hug. He basically tackles you on your own bed, rolling you around with a hearty laugh, "Fuck I really thought you'd reject me," he smiled against your shoulder, pulling you to lay ontop of him again but now both your chests were brushing against eachother.

"Does this mean we're dating—" "No."

[moonzzip]

dreams | kwon jiyong

a/n – I tried a new style for the story header, nothing special, just to make it cuter, the story is a little (very little) longer this time, I hope you like it! feel free to correct me about grammatical errors in the comments!

summary: jiyong gets stressed over things that aren't directly your fault.

pairing: jiyong x gn!member!reader

warnings: jiyong stressed, t.o.p, taeyang and daesung are in there, i think that's it

lowercase letters, word count: 1,7k

no, no, no.

there was no way he had dreamed about you, no chance, not LIKE THAT.

jiyong had always believed that dreams had some sort of meaning—good luck, a sign, or something else entirely, even things like déjà vu, which happened quite often. and you were involved in EVERY SINGLE ONE. as if he thought about you that much—he DOESN'T. he thinks... ugh, damn it! you're bringing too many thoughts into his head, and it's starting to put him in a bad mood.

jiyong ruffles his hair with frustration, walking back and forth in the practice room, sighing and muttering to himself, biting the thumbnail of his hand.

the floor always creaks annoyingly when he steps on that specific spot.

"jiyong, can you stop walkin' in circles? you're making me dizzy." the oldest member of the group complains. he and the other two, taeyang and daesung, had already given up on scolding him. this wasn’t the first time one of them tried to call him out, but it seemed to go in one ear and out the other with their leader.

the members were waiting for you to start practice. apparently, you had an issue with some clause in your contract renewal with YG, but nothing major. they figured that’s why jiyong was pacing around anxiously.

t.o.p, taeyang, and daesung were sitting on the floor, completely relaxed—any chance to rest was always welcome. but that didn't seem to be the case for g-d.

when it seemed like he was about to complete his 388th lap in that room, you finally opened the door.

"seriously, this took forever..." the moment you entered, jiyong's entire demeanor changed, though he kept his reaction silent. you were too busy complaining to notice.

"all this fuss over a random document, when all they had to do was look for it!" you grumbled, adjusting your clothes. the other members stood up, and you greeted them cheerfully, "hello, hello~"

t.o.p walked over to you, throwing an arm over your shoulders."so... everything worked out, right?" the eldest asked.

taeyang dusted off his pants and stepped closer as well, alongside daesung.

"well, since you don't look sad, I guess it did." he commented.

daesung suddenly jumped and let out a dramatic whine, "ahhhh~~ there would be no bigbang without ___, don't die on us, ___!" he shook you by the shoulders, making you laugh.

jiyong said nothing, but you could feel his gaze burning into your back. sensing his irritated aura, you rubbed your nose and pressed your lips together nervously, pretending to be clueless. then, quickly, you said:

"ah. I think we should start practice already. I feel like I took way too long."

you nodded to yourself as if agreeing with your own words.

the other members chuckled, stepping away to take their starting positions.

soon, the music began.

not even two minutes into the practice, and you could still feel jiyong's burning stare. it made you even more nervous, feeling guilty for the delay. that nervousness caused you to accidentally mess up one of the dance steps, and—damn—the air got stuck in your lungs.

everyone else froze in place, their breaths hitching. it wasn’t just you who felt jiyong’s irritation.

you stayed where you were, frozen in your mistake, and seconds later, you heard footsteps approaching. you shuddered, expecting harsh words fueled by the anger radiating off jiyong. you squeezed your eyes shut.

.

.

.

okay, and… nothing happened. he just walked past you.

none of you understood what was going on—not even jiyong.

he had been ready to tear into you for messing up, to completely rip you apart with words (he knew it wasn’t right, but his anger was louder). he was about to take everything out on you, but suddenly... he felt nervous. shy...?

he wanted to punch himself. what the hell was this? why was he feeling like this? the great g-dragon, embarrassed? even he was surprised he walked past you instead.

as he passed, his heart skipped a beat. his fingers tingled—no, his whole body tingled, even his ears.

this was definitely your fault. completely your fault! who gave you permission to appear in his dreams and act LIKE THAT??? now he was acting weird. he wasn’t even in control of himself anymore—one second, he did one thing, and the next, he did another. all of his anger had somehow transformed into partial embarrassment—the kind of embarrassment that comes when you do something stupid in front of someone you like—

like?

for a moment, that word felt wrong.

like? no...

like was too shallow, too undefined.

liking was like liking food, liking to relax, liking to swim.

no.

not like.

at that moment, jiyong decided that he love—

he stopped mid-step, whatever his body had been doing completely halted. his hand flew to his mouth in shock.

you, t.o.p, taeyang, and daesung all watched your leader press his hand to his forehead and bite his lips. he looked like he had just witnessed a murder in front of him. the guy paled about 300 shades lighter than his usual skin tone. he looked like a blank canvas, a brand-new sheet of white paper, untouched white paint—before the brush, before the mess, before it all blended into some unrecognizable color. white. you got it.

he let out a completely defeated sigh, disappointed in himself, and made the most disgusted expression you four had ever seen on a human being.

daesung let out a small snicker but quickly shut up, pressing his lips together to hold back laughter. you shot him a warning look that said, 'stay quiet, or he’ll kill you,' before turning back to jiyong.

your eyes locked with his, and immediately, you felt yourself go pale.

it was like getting punched in the stomach, shot in the chest, stabbed in the head, kicked in the shin. you felt like you had just been caught committing the worst crime imaginable, like YOU had said the most absurd thing a human could possibly say. that feeling, you know?

you saw jiyong point at himself, then at you, then at the practice room door.

knowing exactly what that meant, you nodded. and before you could process it, he was already walking out.

you felt pats on your back and squeezes on your shoulders—a clear farewell.

bastards. they weren’t even trying to save you from the dragon about to devour you.

"it was nice having you in the group, thank you very much." t.o.p’s deep voice declared.

"vip’s will be sad, but your departure is for the greater good." taeyang thought he was so funny—why didn’t he just open his own circus?

"just because I told you not to die, ___? do you have no survival instinct?" you had never heard such cruel words from daesung.

you shot them all a look of pure betrayal, "i’ll come back as a ghost and haunt all of you."

scanning them up and down in judgment, you clicked your tongue and made your way to the door.

for a brief second, you considered jumping out the window and running away. it could work—if only you weren’t on the fourth floor. so you scrapped that plan.

you opened the door. it even creaked, making you even more terrified, already mourning your own death. you hesitated, closing it for a moment, but then you opened it again and stepped out.

now it was too late.

why the hell did this hallway suddenly seem so dark and ominous?

you wondered that as you turned your head to the right.

there he was.

leaning against the wall about three meters away, near the company's vending machine. he didn’t even look at you, just kept his gaze lowered.

closing the door behind you, you stood in the hallway, frozen, gathering your courage. you swallowed hard and slowly walked toward him.

he still didn’t move.

you stop at the wall opposite to where he’s leaning, pressing your back against it as well. neither of you speaks, not yet.

“so… what do you want to tell me, jiyong?” you don’t even finish your sentence before he skillfully places one hand beside your body, trapping you against the wall.

“you’ve been disturbing me too much, ___. my patience is running out. seeing you irritates me, hearing your voice irritates me, your perfume—always the same—just catching a whiff of it irritates me. your laughter irritates me, knowing we’re in the same space irritates me. everything about you irritates me. everything you do irritates me.”

his deep, low voice echoes in your ears, sending shivers down your spine. you don’t say anything, just taking in his words, your face shifting through confusion, offense, shock, disbelief—all at the same time.

“i can’t take it anymore. you’re everywhere i go, like a magnet. i turn my head, and there you are. someone is always talking about you. everything is about you, you, you.”

jiyong mutters, his fingers pressing into the wall so hard they turn white. his eyes drop to the floor, teeth sinking into his lower lip. you stare at him, unsure of what to do, watching as his head tilts slightly to the side before dropping forward—until it rests on your shoulder.

you almost let out a sharp breath at the sudden contact, at the weight of his head against you, at the warmth of his breath ghosting over your neck. you swallow hard, your words completely failing you.

“i don’t know how to deal with you, ___.” his voice is quieter now, tinged with something deeper, something raw.

“i don’t know how to handle your presence. you don’t even have to enter the room, and my eyes are already on you. my chest melts when i hear you laugh, my cheeks get so hot it gives me a headache, your voice surrounds me, and i feel like i’m dreaming. everything about you makes me feel so comforted yet so flustered. i feel dizzy and lost just thinking about you.”

his lips are dangerously close to your ear now, his breath tickling your skin. your whole body feels like it’s on fire, your cheeks burning impossibly hot. and then, he says something that sends an inhuman wave of shivers through you:

“this is all your fault. you’re going to have to do something about it.”

a/n – i actually liked this story, i hope you liked it too! it made me want to become a member!reader and here I am... feel free to correct any grammar errors!

[duckprintspress]

AHHHH BOOKS OF OURS HAVE BEEN ADDED TO THE QUEER LIBERATION LIBRARY ( @queerliblib ) I AM SO EXCITED.

If you don't know what the QLL is this is a great chance to find out!! They're an online library of hand-curated queer e-books with really awesome range (non-fiction! fiction! many genres and disciplines!), and they keep growing! Anyone in the US can become a member FOR FREE. From their webpage: Queer Liberation Library (QLL) is fighting to build a vibrant, flourishing queer future by connecting LGBTQ+ people with literature, information, and resources that celebrate the unique and empowering diversity of our community.

They're also a non-profit 501(c)3 organization, and completely funded by donations (we donate a pittance monthly, I wish we could do more).

I HIGHLY recommend you go to their webpage here to find out more, and you can follow their tumblr (tagged above) too!

And if you didn't know - all our published anthologies to-date are available through multiple library apps, including Libby (if selected by the library) and Hoopla (should be available to all libraries with Hoopla subscriptions). So even if you aren't a member of QLL, you might want to check your local library e-book system to see if you can read our books. Titles potentially available at your library include our anthologies Add Magic to Taste, She Wears the Midnight Crown, He Bears the Cape of Stars, Aim For The Heart: Queer Fanworks Inspired by Alexandre Dumas's "The Three Musketeers" and And Seek (Not) to Alter Me: Queer Fanworks Inspired by Shakespeare's "Much Ado About Nothing," and our stand-alone titles To Drive the Hundred Miles by Alec J. Marsh and Many Drops Make a Stream by Adrian Harley. There's more on the way, too, so be on the lookout.

[genderkoolaid]

I am currently taking a sociology and gender studies course in college, and it’s been really fun so far. But I feel kinda weird whenever the teacher brings up masculinity and femininity, and just certain gender stuff in general. I talked to her about my concerns, and she assured me that she was going to be adding stuff by trans and nonbinary scholars later in the course. But the thing that’s bothering me is the seeming lack of mention of trans men.

One of the things that stood out was when we were discussing patriarchy and she defined it as the subordination of femininity to masculinity. Which, like, yeah, but expressing masculinity isn’t rewarded in those expected to be feminine. And it feels as though the teacher is missing some important nuance.

I am not really sure I’m explaining it properly, but I was wondering if you had any suggestions of things I could read or do to make sure I am able to argue for trans masculinity if it does become a problem. Because right now I just have weird vibes but am unsure how to argue my point.

Ahhhh I've been in a very similar situation. I hope your professor is more amenable to critique than mine.

Here are some articles that come to mind:

Tracing a Ghostly Memory in My Throat: Reflections on Ftm Feminist Voice and Agency by C. Jacob Hale

Trans. Panic. Some Thoughts toward a Theory of Feminist Fundamentalism by Bobby Noble (also the author of the book Sons of the Movement: FtMs Risking Incoherence on a Post-Queer Cultural Landscape)

Trans. Feminism: Or, Reading Like A Depressed Transsexual by Cameron Awkward-Rich

Both Eraserhead and TERFs, Trans Mascs, and Two Steve Feminism by Jude Doyle examine the relationship between transmascs, oppression & feminism and expose the flaws in how feminism tends to approach transmasc issues

All of those are available online & are explorations by transmasculine feminists of the relationship between transmasculinity and feminism, encouraging people to think critically about feminism and what the transmasc experience teaches us about the patriarchy. Jude Doyle's work in particular is approachable and hits directly on many of the problems with how cis feminists tend to approach transmasculinity in feminism. bell hooks work on masculinity/manhood is also very valuable although it does not discuss transmasculinity directly, especially because she focuses more on the impact of race & class.

You could also bring up specific examples of anti-transmasc violence. This BBC article about the camionas of Chile, for example shows how for people seen as female, being masculine can be dangerous in ways that those who perform femininity are not affected by. There's a long history of masculinity in people seen as female being labeled a kind of madness, hysteria, and/or schizophrenia, and people being institutionalized as a result– this has been happening for centuries and is still very present in the world today.

It is blatantly obvious in the lived experiences of transmasculinized people that patriarchal oppression cannot be fully described by "femininity is subordinate to masculinity." And why would any feminist framework that was developed without the recognition of trans people be able to account for our experiences? Feminism that is not willing to be challenged on pretty fundamental levels by transness is not productive feminism. We need to have as much a voice in anti-patriarchal theorization as cis women. To get there, cis feminists need to realize just how deep trans & transmasc erasure runs, how entirely our experiences have been left out, how much of patriarchy & gender is left untheorized by cisfeminism because we cannot fit neatly into cis frameworks.

[theemporium]

ahhhh thanks!! can I request a little coach’s daughter reader, forbidden relationship sort of romance blurb? fluffy or spicy, maybe with seth jarvis if you write for him or nico hischier if not?

-🌿

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“This is risky.”

“I thought you liked risky.”

“I said risky, not stupid.”

Nico didn’t bother to hide his smile as he leaned down, that same damn smile pressed against the side of your neck as he pulled you closer. The setting was less than romantic, one of the many cupboards used to store extra tape and gear in the Rock. But it was the best the two of you could do in the short window you had between you needing to meet up with your father and someone noticing Nico had disappeared after his cooldown routine in the gym.

However, the secret shared moments are bound to happen when you end up dating one of the boys your father coaches for a living. 

“Nico,” you sighed, your eyes fluttering shut as you fisted the material of his shirt with the intention of pulling him away. But you couldn’t seem to bring yourself to do as much. “We don’t have much time.” 

“Then we should enjoy what we have,” Nico retorted, his hands skimming down your sides before resting on your hips. 

“I was already coming over to yours later,” you pointed out, giggling a little when you felt the scrape of his beard tickling the spot just below your ear. “Dad has a meeting with Sheldon and the other coaches at six—”

“Please don’t talk about your dad when I am trying to convince you to makeout with me in a really small cupboard,” Nico murmured, pulling back enough so you could watch the way his nose scrunched up in disgust. 

You snorted, painfully endeared by the expression on his face. “You chose the cupboard.” 

“Fair,” he grumbled with a small huff, but the faux annoyance quickly disappeared to be replaced with a softened expression. “I’ve missed you.”

“It’s been a few days,” you pointed out, but you couldn’t deny the way your chest tightened at his words. There wasn’t really a label on what the two of you were, just vague rules the two of you seemed to be dancing around—as well as the risk that your father or someone else on the team figured the two of you out. 

But it still made you swoon a little to know he missed you as much as you missed him during the recent roadie.

“Too many,” he complained, his hands slipping under the fabric of your hoodie as he flashed you a cheeky grin. “You staying for dinner?”

Your brows raised in surprise. “You gonna cook for me?”

“Yeah, I am,” he said, confident and so sure of himself, even if you noted the hint of nerves in his voice.

“Can’t wait, Cap,” you replied, your own lips twitching at the way he beamed at you. “Now, I really need to go before Dad gets suspicious.”

Nico hummed, leaning down to press one more peck against your lips. “See you later?”

“See you later,” you promised with one last kiss before you snuck out the cupboard.

.

[lucidfairies]

drummer girl [a.a]

pairing: punk drummer!abby x reader

summary: dina dragged you to a bar for a concert, and you naturally thought it would be lame as hell... you were wrong!

warnings: sub!top!abby, dom!bottom!reader, poc friendly (if it's not lemme know ASAP), begging, praise kink, face riding, cunnilingus [r], mommy kink uh [r], squirting, tribbing AHHHH, orgasm denial, masturbation

wc: 3.6k

collaborators: @enbesbian / @enbesbians

"please, I will seriously pay you to come with me," dina begged, following you around the kitchen as you put away dishes. "you know how important this is to me, I can't just go alone!! I need you there. you're my wing woman."

you sighed, running your hands down your face. "dina, this is my one night off a week. why would I want to spend it at some bar seeing a band that I don't even like?" she frowned.

"how would you know that you don't like them if you've never listened to them before? just come with. you spend all your time at home and that's not how a young, beautiful college student should be spending her life." you rolled your eyes at her enthusiasm.

"look.. if I agree to come with you-" she squealed, "you're doing the dishes all month. deal?" dina clapped her hands and grinned.

"perfect. deal. now, let's go pick out your outfit." she grabbed your arm and pulled you in the direction of your bedroom, skipping all the way there while you walked.

you and your roommate dina had lived together for two years, ever since you met each other on campus. the first year was in a dorm... but that didn't really count. ever since then, you had become best friends, and essentially did everything together.

the first time dina mentioned this concert was two weeks ago, when she casually brought up that she was talking to a rockstar (her words). rockstar was a stretch, seeing as the band only had a few thousand followers on insta, but they were big on tiktok.

now, she was claiming that you had to come so that it wouldn't be awkward if her and this rockstar met up backstage and talked, and she wouldn't take no for an answer - no matter how much you said it.

that's how you got here, dolled up in cargos and a corset, going to see a band that you've never heard of with your asshole of a roomie. at least she blew your hair out for you and assisted with your makeup.

"jesus dina, it's packed. I thought you said this was gonna be a lowkey thing." you frowned. she didn't even bother answering, just locked her hand in yours and tugged you to the front of the crowd.

"you'll survive if you stop whining, y/n. just relax. you're way to wound up, I should get you a blunt." before you could ask her not to leave, she was gone. you didn't want a blunt, at least not right now - dealing with this many people high would probably give you a seizure.

the lights dimmed before dina got back, and when she did, she had two fruity drinks with her. "drink up, mama. tonight's gonna be so much fun."

the band was rock, and their lead singer and guitarist was the girl that dina was drooling over. her name was something like ellie, or eliza. you couldn't really remember, and the drink that she gave you was strong as shit.

maybe she was right, maybe you did just need to loosen up. by the time the drink was finished, you were grabbing her hands and dancing to the music with her, letting the alcohol take over your senses for a little while.

dina spun you, and while you were mid spin, you caught the eyes of someone on stage, and suddenly you felt incredibly sober, even if you were still buzzing. you let dina dance with herself for a minute as you tried to catch another glimpse of the drummer, but ellie was moving so much that you could barely see anything.

finally, ellie moved to a stationary microphone to play a slower song, and you could see the drummer in full view; hair pulled off her face revealing her blue eyes, high cheek bones, sharp jaw. she was in a loose muscle tee, and had a few layered necklaces from what you could tell, and she was looking at you.

you slapped dina's arm lightly and she turned to you, smiling like she had just downed four more cups of whatever you were drinking. "who's their drummer?" you yelled.

"that's abby," she yelled back, "you can meet her later." she went back to dancing, while you turned back to the drummer, abby, who was now focused on her music as she sang chords with ellie.

when her portion of the song was over, she looked back up for a moment and locked eyes with you again. you were truly the only one she was looking for, out of the few hundred people in the crowd. there was just something so perfect about the way the light hit you, making your face glow and your body look exquisite. you looked like an angel.

the concert went on for another hour or two, you weren't exactly tracking. all you knew were abby's eyes, and you didn't seek to be knowledgeable about anything else but her. you had to know her. had to have her.

when ellie sat her guitar down at quarter past eleven, you felt like you were being stabbed. the night was over. people were leaving. the band was walking off stage. "will you stay here while I go talk to ellie?"

"I thought I came to make it less awkward when you talked to ellie," your eyebrows knit in confusion.

"please don't hate me but I lied to get you out of the house," she was already backing up, "I'm gonna go do adult things with her so.. stay here. you're my ride." she turned on her heel and sped back stage while you scoffed. she was dead when she got back.

you slid into one of the booths and scrolled on your phone for a while, actually following the band's insta and tiktok. your phone was dying, and you needed the charge to get home, so you sighed and sat it down, staring at your hands while you picked your nails.

"did your friend leave you?" you looked up as you heard a voice, undoubtedly directed towards you. and. fuck. it was her - the drummer who you were making eyes with for three hours, who you were convinced you were never going to see again.

"she's in the back hooking up with ellie," abby snickered, cheeks a little rosey. you noticed some equipment she must've sat down, and you wondered how long she had been standing there before you acknowledged her.

"yeah, that checks. the door was locked when I tried to get my stuff." a silence fell between the two of you, and you tried to think of anything you could say.

"you had a really nice show," you broke the silence, smiling nervously, "I've never heard you guys play before tonight. it was crazy good." she stuffed one of her hands in her pocket and rubbed the back of her neck.

"thanks so much," she was practically giggling at the compliment. "uh, I gotta put some stuff away and head out.. d'ya think I could get your number?" you took her phone quickly, putting your number and name into it. you handed it back to her, smiling.

"abby, let's fucking go already," a man yelled into the bar from outside, looking at her with an annoyed expression.

she broke your eye contact to flip him off, then smiled. "I should probably go.. I'll text you." she picked up her bags and took them out to a van, then got it. dina came out seconds later, hair disheveled and makeup smudged.

"I don't wanna know." you said, sliding out of your booth and walking towards the car, your arm over her shoulders and her arm around your waist.

- - -

an hour later, your phone buzzed. ideally, you should've been asleep, but you couldn't get over the prior interaction. how could someone get over that? a hot drummer, with arms for days (something you couldn't see on stage) and the prettiest face, wanted your number.

hey it's abby :)

you responded with your name and asked her how her night was, and the following hours were spent talking about random things until the sun came up. she told you about this annoying guy in her band, talked about her tattoos, explained why she became a drummer. you were essentially head over heels.

it wasn't until late in the morning that she asked you to dinner, but that hardly mattered. she asked you to dinner. abby. the insanely hot drummer.

"dina, help," you ran into her room, throwing your phone onto her bed and running your hands through your hair, tugging at your roots. "abby asked me out. I haven't gone on a date in years, what do I wear? what do I say?"

"abby as in.. drummer abby? ellie's abby?" you nodded and she gaped. "girl, you have game!! everyone wants abby and she wants you. this is big news. where are you guys going?" dina got out of her bed, dragging you back to your room to assist in your tragedy.

you weren't going anywhere fancy, just some pizza place, but dina seemed to have all the answers to every question. she gave you baggy jeans and a cute crop to wear, helping you style your hair and giving you a kiss on the cheek before she left to let you do your makeup.

"I would hit," dina joked when you came out of your bedroom. "but for real, you look so hot. she's so lucky." you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help yourself from grinning. you and abby didn't halt your texting after she asked you out, and the more you learned about her, the more you liked her.

"does the jacket ruin the outfit?" you asked, pouting in the body mirror in the hallway.

"no babe, you're just overthinking. be safe, no sex without protection, talk about boundaries, if you need me call me. I love you, have fun!" dina pushed you out the door and shut it behind you, prohibiting you from second guessing yourself.

and dinner went... better than anything you could've thought. somehow, every bad thought, every intrusive thought, just relaxed around her. you weren't worried that she wasn't going to like your outfit, especially after the way she praised your body like a temple. you weren't worried about anything.

did it count as u-hauling if you absolutely undoubtedly knew she was the one?

she insisted on driving you home, claiming that Ubers were way too unsafe for such a pretty girl like you, and spent the drive back to your house singing along to music on the radio.

when she arrived at your apartment building, she walked you up to the door, blushing like a mad woman and smiling. "I.. um, we.. we have a gig next week, same place and time if you.. y'know.. wanna come."

"I'll be there. front row." you smiled, taking a small step forward. "is this when we say goodnight?" you giggled. she cupped your jaw and leaned in, lips hovering over yours.

"can I kiss you, y/n?" her mouth quirked into a smirk as you pressed your lips into hers. you felt that smirk under your lips disappear as your tongue breeched her lips, and your teeth took ahold of her bottom lip. after a while, she pulled away, cheeks still red. "sorry.. if we keep going I might start moaning."

"hm," you shrugged, "I'll see you next week, drummer girl."

- - -

dina was on the phone, hyping you up for tonight's concert and apologizing for being unable to come. she was away for this week, visiting family, which conveniently left your house empty. it wasn't the first date anymore, right? that meant it was okay to do things now, and you were certainly thinking about it.

"girl you should get some action tonight!" dina squealed, "it's the perfect night. she'll be all hot and sweaty, and the house will be empty."

"d, we've been dating for a week. we're not even official." you laughed, propping the phone up as you touched up your hair and makeup.

"you're lesbians, babe. you could've never talked before and be fucking right now." you grinned, getting up and giving dina a full fit check. tonight's fit was parachute pants, a tube bra, and a bomber jacket.

"okay, I gotta leave. see you soon, my love." you kissed the screen then hung up, calling your Uber and heading to the bar. just like last time, the joint was packed, and it was incredibly harder to get to the front of the crowd than last time.

abby waved from between her drums, smiling. you waved back, smiling the same. she looked so good; hair down, pasties hardly covering anything but her nipples, tits on display. you couldn't wait to see her up close, have her pressed against you as she kissed you.. or other things.

they played spectacularly, blowing the minds of everyone who didn't know how amazing they were. when ellie gave closing remarks, you instinctively moved towards the door to backstage, waiting for someone to let you in.

ellie came out, smiling at you as she held the door open. you slipped in, finding abby in one of the backrooms packing up her stuff. "hey baby," you shut the door behind her, coming towards her. she looked up, grinning at you and pulling you in for a kiss.

you pulled away, taking in her appearance. the pasties covered less up close, and her abs, which you hadn't known she had, were perfectly sculpted and the waistband of her boxers were showing off from under her cargos, and she looked absolutely delicious. but aside from that, her blonde happy trail was leading to places you had to see.

"did you enjoy the show?" she was blushing again, noticing your gaze on her body.

"yeah, but I enjoyed the view more." you pulled her in again, kissing her harsher than before, running your hands down her waist and over her stomach. she gasped into your mouth when you ran your fingers above and between the ridges of her abs. "wanna go back to mine?"

"hell yeah I do." and that's how you ended up in her car, with her hand on your thigh, as you directed her to your apartment. you guys stumbled in, trying to get in as fast as possible. you kicked off your shoes and pressed your mouth to hers again, pulling at her neck as you stumbled towards your bedroom.

she fell back, pulling you into her lap and kissing your neck. hickies traced her path as she grabbed everything, gently grinding your hips or tugging at your shirt. the moment you ran your hands over her tits, she started whining like a bitch in heat. "please touch me, please put your hands on my tits baby, please," she pressed her nose into your jaw, moaning when you peeled the pasties off and started flicking her nipples.

her back arched against your hand, nipples clearly sensitive. she got louder when you kissed her chest, then took her nipple in your mouth, grabbing at your hair and trying to hold your head there. "does that feel good, sweetheart?" you asked, almost condescending because everyone in the room knew the answer.

"s'good. so good," she kissed your neck softly as she ran her hands over your sides and pulled your tube top up and off, letting your tits spill out. her tongue was on them in no time, licking and sucking and nipping. "please top me," she mumbled once she kissed her way back up to your neck.

"what was that, abs?" you giggled when she whimpered.

"want you to top me, mommy." you stood, shimmying off your pants and underwear and pulling your hair up.

"on your knees in front of me, angel." she hurried up, kneeling in front of you as you positioned yourself on the bed. she placed her hands on the sides of your thighs and pulled you forward slightly, kissing the inside of your thighs. "wanna eat my pussy?"

"yes, please let me," you grabbed her by her hair and pushed her head into your cunt, hearing her muffled moans. she licked a fat stripe up to your clit, sucking it into her mouth and licking harshly.

"fuck.. you were made to get on your knees, huh?" your voice came out as a pant, and you groaned when she moaned into your pussy. her boxers were weeping, drenched in how you made her feel. it was like she was being punched in a good way, in a way that made her clit ache and beat.

she continued to suck your clit as her middle finger gathered your slick and pushed into you, whining again at the easy intrusion. it's like she was getting off on getting you off, and you were living for it. but you definitely weren't going to let her cum until you'd had your fill.

when she added a second finger, your stomach was already flipping. she curled them up, matching her finger speed with the speed she was sucking your clit, and you felt the familiar tingle in your legs, that shot up to your stomach. "gonna come," you moaned, letting your head fell back as you saw stars.

she milked every last drop, waiting until you were absolutely finished to pull her fingers out. you cocked your eyebrow and almost instantly she sucked your cum off her fingers, eyes blown and dark. "what do you want, abby?" you asked, gently wrapping your hand around her throat so that she looked up at you.

"want you to sit on my face," she swallowed hard, "please, I can make you feel so good, I promise I'll make you feel good," you were definitely nervous, but you complied, letting her adjust and lay back on your bed, beckoning for you to climb over.

you placed your thighs on either side of her head and hovered, watching as she admired your pussy. her eyes were wide but the blue had almost turned grey, absolutely entranced by you. "you look so pretty, don't you?" you cooed.

you ran your hands down your body, spreading your lips with your fingers so that she could see just how wet you were. her jaw dropped, and you could feel her warm breath against you. you messed with your clit for a moment above her before sinking two of your fingers right into your hole.

you fucked yourself slowly, moaning as you hit your g-spot over and over. abby was just watching, eagerly waiting until you let her have her turn. you fucked yourself right until you came, pulling your fingers out and letting it drip onto her face.

"I need you to let me fuck you," she huffed, eyes still focused on your center as she stuck out her tongue. she finally looked up at you, so you tangled your hands in her hair and sunk down, letting her do the rest.

you ground your hips against her tongue until she slowed your hips and maneuvered her hands to rub your clit with her thumb, tongue fucking you as deep as she could.

she was mumbling incoherent things into your cunt, whining about how she never wanted to stop eating you out. you briefly pulled up, letting her get air. "you taste so good," she moaned, panting, "never wanna stop," the last word got cut off as you sat back down.

abby was having the time of her life - head tightened between the thighs of an absolutely gorgeous girl as you rode her face. but she was so fucking wet, and you had yet to do anything but touch her tits, and she was desperate for you. she needed you to tell her what to do and where to be.

your stomach flipped, the overstimulation from your last orgasm hitting you hard as you got close. "want me to come on your face, abby? wanna make a mess?" abby whimpered, vibrations pushing you over the edge.

after a few moments, you rolled off of her and fell next to her, breathing heavily. you sat up, moving between her legs. her stomach fluttered at the thought of cumming on your fingers or tongue. "you're soaking the sheets, princess." her hips bucked as you gently ran your thumb over her clit and down her slit.

you spread her legs then lifted one and straddled her hip, hovering again. "what-what are you doing?" she stuttered, but you didn't bother to answer as you lowered yourself down, cunts clashing as you rolled your hips forward. "fuck.. feels so good mommy,"

abby was practically screaming. her moans were almost shrieks at how heavenly it felt. she had never done something like this before, most of the time it was lowkey with her other partners and all they wanted was the strap - but this. this was different.

your pussy was covered in her slick and it felt phenomenal, she was pulsing and throbbing and so wet. you grabbed one of her tits harshly and pulled at her nipple, twisting it right as your clit landed against hers.

"I can't-I can't, fuck, m'gonna cum, m'gonna cum," abby wasn't ready for whatever feeling came next, but it was different - abrupt. there was no buildup, and it was probably the strongest orgasm she'd ever had.

you lifted off of her slightly, watching white pour from her swollen cunt, and giggling as she squirted. her head was back, chest rising and falling rapidly as she came down from her high. "you squirted all over my pussy, baby." she propped herself up on her elbows and blushed.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled as you climbed off of her.

"you don't need to apologize, sweet girl," she smiled into your mouth as you kissed her, pulling her in by her neck. "we should go shower, what do you think?"

"sounds good to me." let's just say that the shower was not rated pg.

a/n: this ended lowkey super weird BUT that's okay. THANK YOU SO MUCH TO FERN FOR HELPING MEEEEE they literally wrote this guys. go check on the art this was based on and give it SO MUCH LOVE or I'll hurt u ty ty. next time she'll fuck u with her sticks 😚

[caturnmoon]

The sun 🌞 through the houses!!(7-12)

•Part II•

•Sun in the 7th•

With your sun in the seventh your identity and ego will have a major focus on relationships of all kinds. This could also indicate a competitive personality in your relationship sphere; whether that be your work environment, sports, intimate relationships, etc..Similar to that of Mars in the 7th house in a way. Partnerships will be an important part of who you are. You are a naturally assertive person who knows what they want out of live and isn’t afraid of pursuing that! Networking will be of the utmost importance for you and how these qualities will be expressed. Teamwork means a lot for you and an equal exchange of give and take. If aspected positively, this can show that you understand the value of healthy boundaries. Your relationships with others and yourself will teach you a lot in this lifetime and you’ll learn more about yourself through them as well. Having your sun here could also show a healthy and influential relationship with your father or paternal figure unless negatively aspected. You could also be known for your relationship(s) with your spouse too. You could also love art and beautiful things and carry yourself with Venusian grace since the 7th house is ruled by Venus!

•Sun in the 8th•

With the sun in the house of intimacy, debts, inheritance, joint finances, transformation and death, you’ll most likely have a lot of experience with any of these themes. With your solar luminary in this house, you’ll be seen as someone who undergoes many transformations in your life. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, so will you. Time and time again. You have a natural knowledge and respect-if positively aspected to reinforce this- of life and death. This cycle applies to the many ego deaths you’ll experience as well. Perhaps your father or someone you looked up to as a father figure passed early on and left a huge impact on you as well. Inheritance from the paternal side of your family could be possible too, whether material or spiritual gifts or karma. This also stands out to me as someone who’s meant to end some generational curses and karma in their family and break those cycles. You could also exude a very powerful aura to others and come off as very scorpionic as well. You have a natural sensitivity to all the hidden nuances in life and the unseen; your bullshit radar is unlike any other. This placement heeds you to listen to your gut, because it’ll never lead you stray!

•Sun in the 9th•

Your ego and identity are tied to the themes of the 9th house of Sagittarius; expansion, higher learning, philosophical pursuits, and foreign travel. These are themes that will have an over arching role in your lifetime and the sun will shine a spotlight on this. If there are many aspects to Mercury, this could further highlight an importance on education and a knack for teaching as well. Seeking a deeper understanding of life around you- and abroad- are mostly likely going to be of great significance to you and your identity. If positively aspected by Jupiter, this only gets magnified for you as Jupiter is the ruler of Sagittarius and the 9th house. With your sun being in the 9th house, this can also indicate that your father settled abroad in a foreign land from his home of origin. Settling abroad and moving often could be a potential for you as well, as 9th house placements and heavy sag in the chart can show this as well. You will be constantly searching for the next biggest thing to learn and experience, being known as a student of life itself. You could also grow into being known as a really seasoned and wise person that people can count on for rich anecdotal advice and guidance. This is another “gets better with time” placement similar to the 2nd house sun but rather than solely material wealth, this wealth translates to wisdom and experience/knowledge.

•Sun in the 10•

Ahhhh yes, the ever so overemphasized “fame” placement. (Sorry, I just had to, cause having this doesn’t automatically grant massive fame. 🫶🏼) Having your sun in the 10th shows an emphasis on being known for taking on responsibilities and an enterprising spirit at some point in your life since this house is ruled by Capricorn and Saturn. The solar luminary in this house will shine a spotlight on your hard work and accomplishments in your career! You will be known for what you do for a living most likely and known as a hardworking and accomplished person. This also rules legacies and since the 10th house is ruled by Saturn and both Saturn and the sun can represent the father, he could leave his legacy for you or you could be inspired by him or his work as well. A great example is my little brother; he has his sun in the 10th and he decided to follow in my dad’s footsteps and become a nurse as well. “Taking on the family business” can be another possibility with this placement and you could be highly favored by your father or he could have a huge impact on you. How you’re seen and perceived in public could also be very important to you and you more than likely will be very popular especially in your field of work. You will have natural talent and ability to accomplish anything you set your mind to, as the Sun illuminates the more positive attribute of Saturn in this house. This can indicate fame if the rest of the chart supports this, but at the very minimum, this means you have the drive to better yourself and lead whatever venture you go on with diligence and success!

•Sun in the 11th•

The 11th house is another underrated wealth and fame placement if positively aspected and supported by the rest of the chart. With the sun shining its light on the house of larger communities, wish fulfillment, philanthropy, and technology, this can indicate a person with a wide network of friends that help support them in life. They can be the leader of a community or cause and volunteer work and charity work could be of great importance to them at some point in life. If supported by other benefics in the chart great wealth could be a real possibility and popularity on a massive scale. Since the 11th rules the realm of technological advancements as well, you could be very popular on social media or online in general. Blogging, astrology, or even work in the government could also appeal to you since these are associated with “larger” groups of people. Your friends can also be family to you and they will have a huge influence in your life. If you also have Pluto in this house then there’s a possibility of being supported by powerful friends and people. Politicians are know to have heavy 11th house activity. You are seen as one of a kind and original, never replicated! The more you step into your authenticity and embrace your quirks, the more you will shine in life. Those with this placement could have felt ostracized and isolated at a young age whether from their families or peers for being different and are very sensitive to others and making sure everyone feels seen and included. You have a strong desire to be socially recognized and you most likely will be known for this.

•Sun in the 12•

Last but never least and a very misunderstood placement like a lot of other 12th house placements. The sun in the 12th house of endings, losses, spirituality, isolation and dreams is such a profound placement to be treated with respect. It is thought that those with their sun in the 12th were royalty in a past life (also a common placement in a lot of royal’s charts in general.) and since the 12th rules the hidden, this could be in their subconscious in this lifetime. The 12th rules hidden talents and the subconscious mind so with these placements there’s usually a lot to be gained from the planet it’s in which can hint towards these talents. Since the 12th is ruled by Neptune and Pisces you may come off very soft spoken and introverted to others and only show parts of yourself that you’re comfortable revealing (the sun). The suns attributes can be quieted here at first; perhaps you felt you couldn’t take up space as a child and had other family members that took priority over you. This can also indicate foreign settlement and estrangement from your father. You are an absolute light and joy to everyone around you and you most likely won’t see this quality in yourself but others most definitely will! With the 12th also being known as the connector from this world and the spirit world you could also have a natural sensitivity to this as well. Vivid dreams and astral travel can be pretty common. Spirituality will be an area of focus you will be leaning into most likely and have aptitude here. You will need a lot of alone time to decompress from harsher energies because you’re like a psychic sponge. You could have the ability to read auras too, since the sun shines a “light” in these matters as well. I have this placement in whole sign and can see auras! Always remember that with this placement, how you view yourself is almost never how others perceive you. Thoughtful, kind and artistic; this world needs more souls like you!

Until next time! 👽🖖🏼

[phosph-ate]

Hi, hope you’re having a good day! Do you have any fluffy wholesome headcanons about Phosphorus? Could be general stuff, domestic life, whatever you feel most interested in! Thank you 💚

HIII Thank you for this ask!! I've been thinking about it since you sent it lmao Finally got to time to put my thoughts into words, so here we go!

Phosphorus is sooooo clingy!! Like my man just wants to be close to you and hold you and oh my god hugs!!

He loves hugs to be honest. Please hug this man

You have to initiate the hug though. Sorry, he is Afraid of hurting you.

Will lean so hard into any sort of physical contact. Whether you are hugging him or just sitting beside him and leaning on him. He will give back tenfold.

The way he hugs?? AHHHH He will hold you so close and grip you like a lifeline. As if he absolutely needs you. Because sometimes he does.

Will kill for you honestly.

You seem slightly upset? Don't worry, he will take care of the issue.

If he somehow upset you? Oh lord, he is so sorry. He is stubborn but as soon as you seem like you are about to cry, oh god he is losing it.

We are going to pretend he is uh not in Belle Reve for like two minutes.

If you two live together he is soooo sweet to you! Will try to cook for you, which probably ends in you cooking actually

BUT he uses it as a bonding experience and sits with you, watching you cook.

He adores just being with you, even in silence. If you happen to have something to say? That is even better!

If you like dumping information, he needs all of it, and he needs it immediately. IS SO INTERESTED IN YOU AND WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY!!

If someone interrupts you while you are telling him about anything, especially if it's a special interest or something, he is Fuming. You may want to leave the room.

He does not STAND for any slander towards you.

Oh, calling him dr. phosphorus is cool and all, but as soon as you call him Alex? He is melting. Unless you seem mad then he is really tense.

You want literally anything? It is yours. He will get it somehow for you.

When he loves, he loves so deeply and he is so, so affectionate.

HE IS THE BEST!! I JUST AAGH

there are so many thoughts in my head, and I can't even get them straight. I may make even more of these later because I love him so much!!! For now, i hope these hold y'all over ☺️

[lightsoutletsgo]

I’m such an angst girly omg how about lando’s phone not working and reader gets sad he’s not replying or answering her calls for a few days🤨

pairing: lando norris x reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, allusions to a panic attack, reader is v emotional, lando is an idiot ahhhh tysm for sending this in! It was fun to write but ofc I had to make it fluffy to end bc I didn't wanna make myself too sad happy reading! love mimi 🤍

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ — — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ — — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ — — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Long distance relationships were hard, you knew that before you’d even started dating Lando. You’d heard all of the stories before but like the many innocent others who had yet to experience their partner being on the other side of the world, you were determined that everything would be okay. 

Now, as you thought back to how naive you’d been, you scoffed, how could you have thought it would be so simple? If you weren’t battling with time zones, you were battling to find free time, and if you found free time, it was never quiet and peaceful and it never lasted more than a few minutes. You knew you should have been satisfied with those snatched moments you did get, but you missed your boyfriend. 

You missed him even more when he got another podium and you weren’t there to celebrate with him. You’d stayed up until stupid o’clock to watch the race live and you’d cheered and jumped as your boyfriend performed overtake after overtake to move up the grid to claim second place. You knew that once he had done his post-race interviews and meetings he would call you. You sighed as once more Lando’s contact picture flashed up with ‘facetime unavailable’. You’d scheduled this call the night before but he was only a few minutes late. You shook your head as you took a deep breath, he was probably just finishing up in meetings. Half an hour went by and your stomach twisted with worry as you still hadn’t heard from him. You checked your phone but there were no new notifications - not from him at least anyway. 

You curled up on the couch, noticing Lando’s hoodie still resting over the arm of the couch. Pulling it towards you, you nuzzled your face into it and inhaled, the smell of his cologne washing over you. You felt tears well up in your eyes. No matter how busy or tired he was, he had never once missed your call. You grew angry, not with Lando, never with Lando, but just at the situation. 

You huffed and grabbed your phone once more, deciding to doom scroll through instagram until Lando finally called. You noticed that a few people had posted new stories and so you pressed on the first one, absentmindedly tapping your screen until you paused, sitting up quickly as you realised the story you were looking at was Max Fewtrell’s. He’d posted a video in the club at a post-race party. You normally wouldn’t have batted an eyelid, but you could have sworn in the back corner of the dimly-lit club video was a figure that looked suspiciously like Lando. Going back to the start of his story and scrolling through again you realised it was Lando, wearing the black shirt you’d given him for his birthday the previous year. 

Turns out you could be mad at Lando. Something uncomfortable and hot flashed in your stomach as nausea hit you. Anger curled its way up your spine and through your chest, tightening around your lungs and making it hard to breathe. He was out at a club? And that’s why he hadn’t called you? You growled and glared at your screen, thumbs jabbing into the keyboard as you furiously typed a message to Max. He was online, you noted, as you hit ‘send’ and waited for him to read it. You barely had to wait five minutes before Max was apologising profusely and sending you a long paragraph about how he was sure Lando had texted you and would be letting him know straight away. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, throwing your phone down on the couch next to you with a ‘hmmph’. You sat in silence for a while, your emotions slowly welling up as tears gathered on your lash line. Was this how your relationship was going to end? Long nights alone while Lando partied it up on the other side of the world? Surrounded by scores of choices of pretty women and an endless supply of alcohol? You couldn’t help the way you sobbed as you grabbed his hoodie once more, desperately trying to catch your breath. You were crying so hard you almost didn’t hear the way your phone vibrated on the cushion. You gasped for air as you picked it up and turned it over, Max’s name flashing on the screen. You snatched your phone up and pressed the green button to accept, not even registering that it was a facetime call and he was going to see you crying.

You inhaled sharply as it was Lando’s worried face that appeared on the screen, he looked panicked and you could hear the music thumping in the background although slightly muffled. Despite the fluorescent lights he was standing under, he still looked good, “Baby? Oh my god…” He took in your tear stained cheeks and the way your eyes were red. He noted your sniffling noises and the way your bottom lip trembled, “Love I’m so so sorry!” You let out a laugh and rolled your eyes, trying to not let him see the next wave of tears that were threatening to fall, “Sure.” He sighed, “Honey, I promise you, I didn't mean it. I did text you! I didn’t realise it didn’t go through because I was in the post-race meeting!” “I wanted to celebrate your win with you!” Lando gently shushed you as he saw your chest heave, your breathing quickening once more, “Baby, baby, shh sh sh it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m right here.” He looked off screen for a moment to a person you assumed to be Max before the music got louder again and then quiet, as if Max had left Lando alone. You followed along with his breathing as he over exaggerated for you to copy.

“Love I promise you it was just an accident okay? I texted you to ask if you were ready to call but when there was no reply I assumed you’d fallen asleep so then I texted you to ask if you could be at the airport for 4am…” He winced, “I decided to fly home early and have a few days with you before the next race.” You melted back against the couch, hugging his hoodie to your chest as you tucked your knees up under your chin and rested your phone there, “4am?” You sniffled with a giggle, “Is that my hoodie?” He said, doing his best to distract you and you let out a proper giggle this time, “Lando! 4am is so early!” He laughed, relieved to see you feeling better, “I figured we could go for a super early breakfast and then go home and fall asleep together, in our bed, in our apartment which is my favourite place to be, with my love. Your bottom lip wobbled once more, “You promise?” He nodded to assure you, “I promise.” You inhaled deeply and let out an exhale with a sigh, “I can’t wait to see you,” your thumb gently rubbed across his cheek even through the screen. “I can’t wait to see you either love, can’t wait to be home”