#this idea has been plaguing me for sometime now

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

A 5 +1 fic and its five times dazai breaks into Chuuyas apartment and one time Chuuya visits Dazai’s place

[muntitled]

Virginity Files: Enha Edition

▪︎ Summary: how Hyung Line would respond to finding out you're a virgin

▪︎ Cw: Established Relationship, nsfw, virginity kink, Heeseung's part is a little unethical, +18, Minors dni

Heeseung | 희승

Abstinence had never really been a major factor in Heeseung's philosophy. In fact, he believed quite the opposite. Always choosing to forgo self control, in favour of being passionate, hedonistic and sometimes even borderline lecherous in your relationship.

Discussions of sex would plague you early on in your relationship because sexual gratification is something Heeseung refuses to compromise on- and you look too fucking gorgeous in nothing but a simple bathrobe for him to be expected to have pure thoughts.

He kisses up the side of your neck first, with his arms encircling your waist from behind like ivy creeping along the sides of an archaic mansion. You tilt your neck, welcoming his kisses as you rub the rest of your lotion along your forearms, the smell of cocoa butter having dire effects on Heeseung's restraint.

"I could fucking eat you alive," he whispers drunkenly in your ear, causing the sharpest of gasps to leave your throat when you feel his hardened length push up against your ass.

'It's happening' you think idly to yourself as Heeseung's hands crawl up your front until they're dipping into the opening of the robe.

When his fingers make contact with your breasts you freeze and Heeseung groans as he dips his head between your neck and shoulder.

He squeezes and tweaks your nipple, his cock growing impossibly harder when he feels your nipples turn to hardened peaks.

"Fuck-" he whispers before dragging you down onto the bed. Your body is limp and unresponsive when Heeseung hovers over you, your back pressed against the comforter as he inspects the expanse of your body with his large domineering hands.

You should've known what you were getting into with a guy like Heeseung.

He lives, eats and breathes sex.

How could you ever be so dumb?

"I need to touch you," he whispers, undoing the belt of your robe.

"You'll be good for me?" He asks- but his movements stop when your hand on his, stops all movements.

"I haven't had sex yet-"

Heeseung only blinks once before flashing you that dazzling smile. "Well obviously we haven't had sex yet- that's what I'm trying to correct."

"Ever. Heeseung." You release a shaky breath. "I mean ever."

It only takes a maximum of 15 infuriating seconds before Heeseung continues to slowly undo the knot of your belt as he says, "Would it be unethical if I said I'm more hard now than I've ever been?”

Jay | 제이

The idea of sex comes pretty early on in the relationship because it's all Jay could ever think about in your presence. Sex had never been anything monumental in his previous relationships- it had always been exceedingly casual, like a mutual business transaction with both parties guaranteed to step away from the venture wholly satisfied.

But here Jay is, on his knees in front of you like a martyr at the altar.

The blazer he had worn is discarded somewhere around him but all that plagues his mind is evil, diabolical thoughts of you. He looks completely wrecked as he kisses up the sides of your legs, his dress shirt half unbuttoned with his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. At the start of the evening he had looked dapper, not a single hair out of place and not a single wrinkle on the prada shirt. Ready to meet your patent.

But for you… here, he's a mess.

"What has gotten i-into you?"

You dig your hands into his hair, urging him to stand up but all he does is groan and nuzzle his face further between your thighs.

"You know how beautiful you looked tonight?” he breathes, lifting the fabric to reach more skin, “It was torture having to save face for your parents but secretly wanting to eat you out the whole the night-"

Jay punctuates his mind numbing confession by lifting the ends of your dress and ducking underneath. He hooks his fingers into the sides of your lace underwear and he pulls-

"Jay, stop-"

"Why?" His voice cracks under the weight of his own desire, and he peaks up from under your dress to look up at you with pleading eyes. "Baby, just let me taste you." Your heart shatters. "I know we haven't done anything, and that's fair- maybe you don't trust me yet- I don't know-" as Jay speaks all you can do is shake your head, "But I'm fucking attracted to my girlfriend- I need to be inside of you, I need to taste you and fuck you and hold you-"

"I'm a virgin."

Jay's rambling dissolves into complete and utter silence and you're left to watch as he sits back on his haunches, completely mystified.

"What?"

"That's why we haven't done anything- I-"

Your words of embarrassment completely dissolve in your throat once Jay ducks under the skirts of your dress once more, sending your heart into complete overdrive.

"Tonight's the night then,"

Is all he says with the mission of eating you out with absolute ardour.

Jake | 제이크

Being in a relationship with a boy made of literal prince tendencies meant there were a lot of lecherous acts that you had to coax out of him. When you and Jake first shared your first kiss under New Year's fireworks he had tenderly placed his hand on your cheek as if your skin was forged of porcelain and he muttered, "Is this okay?” Those three words haunted your relationship to the point that you feared your boyfriend saw you as less of a girlfriend, and more a fragile, precious thing he coveted.

These thoughts spin in your head as Jake rubs circles on your inner thigh through the duration of your Friday-night movie.

You couldn't focus on Toy Story 2 because Jake's large hand and its glorious callouses left nothing but goosebumps in their wake, and you're completely and utterly brimming with energy when you pause the movie to gain his attention.

"Can we kiss?" You ask.

You're not sure why you ask but this running theme of always seeking for consent I'd a habit that is difficult to shake off.

"Fuck, if I wasn't thinking about it for the passed hour," he replies before scooping you into his arms. "Get over here."

You're straddling his hips and his mouth crashes against yours, eliciting an unsteady moan from the confines of your throat.

Jake is such an eager kisser. Always eager to please.

Always eager to do good for you. It's like he was purposely trying to kiss away every other guy you may have come into contact with.

If only he knew how embarrassingly small that list really is.

"Woah- Bunny, what're you doing?" Jake's hands are still on the soft sides of your hips when you grind down against his length. You're both fully clothed but the intention of your actions is very much clear. He curls his arms around you as if urging you to stop, but his steadily hardening cock gives him away.

"F-Fuck," he curses under his breath finally relenting and choosing to lean back against the couch as you grinded down against him. He watches you with hooded eyes. "This is how you're feeling tonight, yeah?"

Your bottom lip clamps between your teeth, "Yeah..." and it completely erupts a wave of arousal in the pits of Jake's stomach.

"You want Jake to take care of you?" It's the way in which he says it, like every word had to be meticulously asked in order for you to understand the severity of the situation. It made you feel silly, and juvenile and so incredibly blissful.

"P-please," you whine, locking your arms behind the back of his neck as you grind down harder against the bulge in his pants. "I'm ready."

"What- like ready, ready." Instead of admiring how cute your boyfriend is, all you're able to do is bury your face in the crook of his neck.

"I'll take good care of you." He says eventually, with his large hand rubbing soft circles into your back. "Jake'll take good care of you..."

You need him to make you feel good and that alone has him soaring along the silver lined clouds.

Sunghoon | 성훈

Unlike the rest of Sunghoon's meticulously planned life, falling helplessly in love with you- and then your body- had been something to hit him quite unsuspectingly.

You stormed into his life, and shook up every aspect of his fully functional brain, making him question just how good of an idea it was to invite you to live with him. Seeing as you two were quickly becoming a serious ensemble, Sunghoon knew the time to solidify the relationship was quickly approaching, still, it caught him wholly by surprise when you admitted your inexperience under the soft glow of his overhead light. Wine intermixed with saliva lay on both your lips due to the sweet, drunken kisses you've exchanged on the couch. Sunghoon didn't mean to get handsy. He rarely does.

In fact, Sunghoon prides himself on his restraint when it comes to you. Seeing you, however, in this space, amongst his things, as if you were a part of his property... he lowered the wine glass onto the coffee table to swoop you into his arms.

"D-Did you hear what I said?" You felt embarrassed to have to admit to being a virgin but somehow you felt that consent was needed. Perhaps he may not be completely comfortable being made subject to the daunting task of being someone's 'first'.

"W-We don't have to do this?" You try to whisper. You try to push him away by his chest but his teeth sink into the crook of your neck drawing a heightened gasp out of the confines of your throat.

"We should get you ready first," he whispers instead, knocking all the air out of your lungs in one fell swoop. His hands glide down over your silk pyjamas until he's cupping your sex- the most private, most vulnerable parts of you. "We'll go slow." Sunghoon said with his nose still buried in your neck as he snuck his hand down your pants. You were a gasping mess, so unused to the feeling of it being someone else's hand on that particular spot.

"Just relax, Baby,"

"Sunghoon-"

"Right here," he whispered, drinking in your gasps like they were the finishing remains of crimson red wine. "I'm right here,"

[itsa-me-lily]

God I love this au, it's feeding me so good today. The last one with the part about only one bedroom has me thinking about a sick reader, the gross kind of sick where you're sweaty and wheezy and snotty, and the fact that if it were anyone else Simon would be quarantining them. But because it's his spouse, he wakes up to you nasally wheezing and mouth breathing while sprawled across him, and all he can think about is when you're due for your next round of medicine and if he needs to buy more tissues.

Sometimes love comes coated in mucus, and is reciprocated with an artificial cherry taste. Also do the guinea pigs have names and what do they look like?

I'm dying. This is the first ever ask I've ever gotten (that I recall) and I'm going to pass away. Also "sometimes love comes coated in mucus, and is reciprocated with an artificial cherry taste" that is such a good line, I'm apologizing in advance if I steal it.

Also warning for content of being sick, this is based off my last bout of plague.

Also Also Here's the Simon & Thimble playlist

Also Also Also Here's the Military Program Spouse AU masterlist

Bedsharing in general does not happen at first. (Now I want to percolate an idea about sharing the bed for the first time). You're way to use to having your own bed that sharing with someone means you're not sleeping easily and I think Simon would rather sleep with the guinea pigs in their cage than have another human being that close to him when he sleeps. (This was also not something he initially thought about when being told a spouse was to be picked)

So what's the solution? Obviously bunk beds! Kind of, sorta...okay not really but the look on Simon's face when you had suggested getting bunk beds had been entertaining. Who knew so much indignation could come through a medical mask. Really his eyebrows did so much talking.

With the dream of bunkbeds dashed, the next best solution was either two twin beds crammed into the bedroom with a bedside's worth of space between them, or a pull out couch. You managed to find a couch same day that didn't terribly clash with the artwork you have yet to hang up.

You two actually manage to come up with a schedule for who slept where. Obviously you'd get the bed when Simon was deployed, made no sense for you not to. And when he was home the bed was all his unless he was having a night that he knew he wasn't going to trust a deadbolt to keep monsters at bay. Then he made himself comfortable, TV playing low until he managed a few hours in the early morning before you try to leave a silently as you can for work.

(Funny thing, even if you aren't sharing a bed traditionally, you both most certainly have your own sides, along with bed stands that told two different stories)

The first time you get sick is when Simon is technically deployed. Well actually, the day he returns is the day you spike a 101.8 fever and work forces you to go home so you don't become a walking petri dish and expose the college kids that come into your office.

Once you're home you appease the little beasts demanding some sort of vegetal boon, change into the rattiest clothes you have, and then huddle under a staggering amount of blankets that have made their home on your bed. (Simon may have side eyed them when you first set them out, but you've seen the mountain he creates under them, you knew the magic of weighted blankets)

Sleep isn't peaceful, you hadn't broken out the Nyquil quite yet, but you do manage to drift off for a few hours. And then the coughing starts. It's the kind that's a bitch to deal with, dry and pushing your ribs to the limit with how often they can expand and contract. By the time Simon comes home you've steamed yourself twice, taken only a smidge over the recommended amount of cough suppressant, and slathered yourself with Vic's Vaporub. All in all, you were properly miserable.

You're in the kitchen, staring into the abyss of your over-steeping tea as if it will magically make you feel better if you only sell your soul to it, really a tempting offer, when the wheeks of the pigs announce that another person they know has arrived.

If Simon wasn't clued in that something was off at seeing you home before the end of your work day, the pungent smell of menthol would have been a dead give away. You're still communing with your tea when he knocks against the wall, pulling you out of the deal for your soul to meet him with bleary eyes and a flushed face.

You croak out a greeting that makes Simon wince in sympathy, though that's about all he really does. Simon doesn't really do pleasantries and doting probably wouldn't be the first word people use to describe him, so with your brain function reduced by an overflow of mucus and fever, the kitchen was rather silent.

Until you started coughing, face buried into the crook of your elbow to try to keep your contagion to a minimum and back bowing to nearly double you over. That drives Simon to action, coming to try to keep you up incase you collapse, grabbing your free arm.

When you feel him touch you, you try to pull away, shaking your head and finally finishing your bout, gasping a little as you try to daunting task of breathing and speaking to dissuade him from getting close lest he catches what you have. He clearly wasn't persuaded, hands clenching and unclenching like he simply wanted to pick you up and put you...somewhere.

How exactly Simon Riley would take care of you, he didn't know but he'd be damned sure to at least try. He'd been left to fend for himself while sick before and he didn't like the idea of you going through that. When it was clear that he wasn't going to just leave you to your suffering you relented enough to try to reach a compromise; if he'd be alright watching the pigs while you were sick that would be more useful than a nursemaid while you camped out on the couch.

That...that was something Simon could do. He'd watched how you took care of the boys, surely this was something he could do. And then his brain caught up to the rest of what you had said. There was no way he was going to let you sleep on some pull out couch, as nice as it was. Being Sick meant sleeping in a proper bed, on a mattress that didn't spend it's days folded up.

You tried to insist it was alright but he wouldn't listen to a word of it. Instead he practically herded you back to the bedroom, ignoring your murmurs of your abandoned hot beverage. He didn't lift you to plop you onto the bed itself but it was a near thing. He had to bribe you with the promise of a proper cup of tea for you to even lay your head on your pillow, eyes already heavy with the need for sleep. By the time he had actually made a cup you were out for the count, nasally mucus filled snores letting him know you hadn't perished in the time it took him.

The next few days were filled with mucus, the attempted escape of your lungs via coughing fits, and more Vics than the human body should be exposed to. And the entire time you insisted that you could fend for yourself. Simon didn't push to play nurse, but your tissues never ran out, a dose of medication was always ready on your bedside, and a warm cup of tea stood waiting for you after each nap, like a solider committed to his guard.

Edit;

I'm going to make a separate post for the guinea pigs, because honestly I'm torn on if they're based on my guinea pigs I used to have, or guinea pigs I'd want to have in the future

[misspygmypie]

Age Difference

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (slight age gap) Word Count: 1666 Request: Can i request something for Lando where reader is older then Lando by 5 or 6 years and reader worry's Lando will find someone his own age but he keeps on reassuring her he lover her so very much. Like a lot. And reder talk to max about it and how she thinks it's better if she leaves him so he can find someone his own age. But Max tells Lando who has noticed she has gone distance. Happy ending though please. Masterlist

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Y/N sat by the window, watching as the world outside went about its usual business, feeling uneasy and anxious. The difference in age between her and Lando was something she had always been conscious of but recently it had started to gnaw at her more insistently.

Lando Norris was vibrant, full of life and only in his mid-twenties, while Y/N was in her early thirties. It had never seemed like a big deal before but lately she had started to worry. The thought that Lando might want to be with someone closer to his own age, someone who could share his youthful energy and ambitions or was up to party until the early morning hours, had begun to plague her mind.

One evening while they relaxed on the couch together, Lando reached out to take her hand. He noticed the distant look in her eyes, the way she seemed lost in her thoughts. He had sensed her growing distress and wanted to address it before it became a bigger issue.

“Y/N,” Lando began softly, his eyes full of concern, “I’ve been feeling like something’s been bothering you lately. I just want you to know that I love you so much. More than anything. I’m not just saying that, I mean it.”

Y/N looked at him, her heart aching. “I know you say that but sometimes I wonder if you really mean it. I worry that maybe you’re settling for me.”

Lando’s face grew serious and he gently squeezed her hand. “I’m not settling. I’m with you because you’re everything to me.”

She could see the sincerity in his eyes and it warmed her heart but her insecurities still lingered. “I just don’t want you to feel like you’re missing out on something because of me. Especially now that you're growing more popular, you could have so many other, younger girlfriends.”

“You’re not holding me back,” Lando said firmly. “If I thought for a second that being with you wasn’t right I’d tell you but that’s not the case. You’re my partner, my love and I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.”

Despite his reassurances Y/N found it hard to shake off her fears. As the days went by she became more preoccupied with the idea that maybe Lando would be happier with someone closer to his own age. She felt a growing distance between them, a distance that she couldn’t explain but also couldn’t ignore.

One evening she couldn't handle the overwhelming feeling anymore and she decided to talk to Max, Lando’s longtime best friend and the person who knew him best. Max had always been a voice of reason and she hoped he could provide some clarity.

Y/N sat across from Max in the cozy corner of her favorite café, her coffee cooling as she fidgeted with the edge of her napkin. The conversation had shifted from their initial casual chat to something more unsettling.

“I’ve been thinking,” Y/N said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe it’s better if I leave Lando.”

Max’s brow furrowed in concern. “What do you mean? Why would you say that?”

“It’s just… I can’t shake the feeling that I’m holding him back,” Y/N explained, her eyes reflecting the turmoil inside her. “He’s so young and full of life. I see him growing more popular and I worry that he’s missing out on experiences he could have with someone closer to his own age.”

Max took a sip of his coffee, his gaze steady on Y/N. “But Lando’s made it clear that he loves you and he’s with you because he wants to be. Have you talked to him about this?”

“I have,” Y/N admitted. “And he says he loves me and doesn’t want to be with anyone else but I can’t help but feel like he’s saying that to not hurt my feelings. If I’m being honest, there’s a part of me that thinks he might be happier with someone who’s more on his wavelength, someone who can share his lifestyle without these doubts.”

Max leaned forward, his expression serious. “Y/N, love isn’t just about shared experiences or age. It’s about how you connect, how you support each other. From everything I’ve seen, Lando values you deeply. He’s not the type to stay in a relationship just out of convenience or because he feels like he should.”

“I know,” Y/N said, her voice trembling. “But it’s not just about what he wants. I keep thinking about what’s best for him. Maybe I’m not the best person for him and maybe it would be better if we both moved on. He deserves someone who isn’t plagued by insecurities and doubts.”

Max sighed, shaking his head. “Look, I understand where you’re coming from. But you have to ask yourself why you’re so willing to give up on something that’s important to both of you. Sometimes, the hardest part of a relationship isn’t the age difference or the external factors, it’s facing the insecurities and challenges.”

“It’s just so hard, Max,” Y/N’s eyes filled with tears again as she spoke, “I love him so much, but I don’t want to be the cause of his unhappiness.”

Max reached across the table, placing a reassuring hand on hers. “It sounds like you’re trying to protect him, but you’re also underestimating the strength of your relationship. If Lando has reassured you that he’s committed to you, then you need to trust that. If you really believe in your relationship, then you should be willing to fight for it, not just walk away because of fear.”

Y/N nodded slowly, her mind racing, but she still wasn’t convinced.

________

Max and Lando were hanging out at Max’s place, having a rare moment to unwind after a hectic week. Lando was in high spirits but Max had something on his mind that he needed to address.

“Hey, Lando,” Max began casually, “I had a chat with Y/N recently.”

Lando looked up, his interest piqued. “Oh? How’s she doing?”

“She’s been struggling with some doubts about your relationship,” Max said carefully. “She mentioned feeling like maybe it would be better if she stepped away. She’s worried she’s holding you back because of the age difference.”

Lando’s face clouded with concern. “She said that? I thought we were getting through it.”

Max nodded. “Yeah, she’s been feeling insecure. She loves you a lot, but she’s been thinking she might not be what’s best for you.”

Lando’s expression softened with frustration and worry. “I’ve told her over and over that I’m with her because I want to be. The age difference isn’t an issue for me. I just wish she could see that.”

“I told her the same thing,” Max said. “But you know how these things are, sometimes it’s hard for her to believe it, even when it’s coming from you.”

“I need to talk to her again,” Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I want to make sure she knows how serious I am about this. If she’s feeling this way, it’s clearly affecting her more than I realized.”

Max gave a supportive nod. “Yeah, you should have another conversation. Let her know how much she means to you and that you’re not looking for anyone else. It might help her feel more secure.”

“I will,” Lando said firmly. “Thanks for letting me know. I just want to fix this before it gets any worse.”

“No problem,” Max replied. “I’m here if you need anything. Just remember, communication is key. Show her that you’re in this for the long haul.”

________

When Lando came home from training the next day he decided it was time to chat with her. “Y/N,” he approached her, “we need to talk.”

“What’s up?”

“Y/N, I know what you said to Max, he told me and before you blame him for saying anything, I am so glad he did, because now I can address this with you before you make any stupid decisions,” Lando said and he saw the anxiety creep up into her eyes. “Please, talk to me Y/N, what’s going on?”

Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes meeting his with vulnerability. “I’ve been worried about our relationship. About the age difference. I keep thinking that maybe you’d be happier with someone closer to your age. I don’t want to hold you back or make you feel like you’re missing out. I know I've said it before but I'm really struggling with these thoughts and I can't stop thinking about it.”

Lando’s expression softened immediately. He stepped closer and took her hands in his. “Y/N, it hurts me so much to see you like this. I need you to listen to me, really listen, and I need you to know that I’m not thinking about being with anyone else. I’m with you because I love you. The age difference doesn’t change that, it doesn’t change how I feel about you. I love you for who you are and I don't care how many years we have between us”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes as she listened to him, the weight of her fears beginning to lift. “But what if you’re just saying that because you don’t want to hurt me?”

“No,” Lando said firmly, his gaze steady and sincere. “I’m telling you the truth. I’m with you because I want to be. You’re not holding me back, you’re making me better and my life better. You're my everything. I’m not looking for someone else or a different kind of relationship. I’m here because I love you.”

Y/N’s heart ached with relief as she threw her arms around him, tears streaming down her face. “I love you so much,” she whispered.

“I love you too,” Lando replied, his voice thick with emotion. “And I want us to work through this together. And we will.”

________

AN: Anon I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶

[luvnami]

hey, chat?

author's note ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ streamer!sanemi has been PLAGUING me | kinktober 2024 mlist content warnings ₊˚⊹ petnames, implied sex toys, masturbation, fingering, blowjobs, handjobs, under-desk, low voyeurism, leg humping, x fem! reader, ageless/minors dni (18+), 900+ words

when your boyfriend’s job has him in front of a computer for most of the day, sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands when you get horny – literally. ovulation is no joke. you’ve been panting in bed, fingers squelching deep within your swollen pussy, trying to get a sliver of the pleasure that sanemi’s usually adamant on providing you with. 

it’s just not the same.

your fingers aren’t as long, the sadly discarded dildo doesn’t hit your favourite spots, and your vibrator’s dead. you just want to be satisfied with a few hours of absolutely animalistic bareback sex. however, sanemi’s in his gaming room, streaming to his thousands of fans at the moment. thankfully, your horniness knows little to no limits. 

you get off the bed and stumble next door. the door clicks open.

“babe?” sanemi pulls one side of his headset off when he hears you, turning around in his chair only to see you absolutely ruined. his jaw sets. 

you bring a finger up to your lips. a few messages pop up in his chat about how sanemi’s girlfriend must have appeared off camera. 

you’re wearing an oversized shirt with the collar cut open. one side hangs off your shoulder, showing off the curve of your neck and flesh of your chest. you get on your hands and knees and crawl under sanemi’s desk, careful to stay out of view of the camera. 

his legs widen to accommodate you between them. sanemi swallows thickly. if he had to be wholly honest, this isn’t the first time that you and him have done anything particularly lewd on camera. sometimes he has you talk with his chat, controlling a vibrator stuffed into your cunt off screen; or teasing your clit as you play a minigame and edging you when you fail the in-game objectives. 

this, though? this is new. 

“sorry chat, my girlfriend just came in to check on me.” sanemi readjusts his headphones and swivels back to his monitor. 

a few messages aw-ing and cooing at him for being a sweet boyfriend enter the chat. he rolls his eyes and tells them to shut the fuck up, then unpauses his game and goes back to exploring the area he had been in earlier. 

you practically drool at the sight of sanemi in sweatpants. call it cliche – whatever. you just want him in any one of your holes right now. 

you wiggle the band of his sweatpants and briefs below his hips, pulling his soft cock out. sanemi talking to his chat drones into background noise as you dig in. he swears, knee bouncing and nearly hitting the table from underneath. 

“fuck, i thought there was a spider next to me,” he grumbles in excuse.

sanemi’s quickly grows hard as you make sure he’s nicely lubed up for your throat, spitting on his tip and using your hand to pump his shaft. his thighs flex and he lets out a heavy huff in an attempt to play off any noises he might make out of pleasure. your knees dig into the flooring as you lean forward. 

“is this the right spot? we’re supposed to-” sanemi chokes on his words as his tip hits the back of your mouth, then inches into the tightness of your throat. 

your nose flares against his skin. you stare up at him through your wet lashes and for a moment, sanemi thinks that this is a very bad idea. he loves fucking your throat till you’re hoarse and gasping for air. on stream, however, is another deal. a rush of adrenaline surges through him and he swears he gets even harder.

“we’re supposed to find the boss here. let’s keep explorin’.”

sanemi wants to look down at your lips wrapped around the base of his cock, but he’d rather do anything else but give his chat something to spread on twitter like wildfire – especially not when it involves you. 

you give yourself a few seconds to adjust. your pussy drools, sticky and dripping onto the floor below you. you start to move your head and fuck sanemi’s cock with your mouth. you hear him swear, although you’re not sure if it’s from the game or because of you.

his thighs clamp down on either side of your face. you whine as the pressure stops you from moving too freely. your hand touches the sensitive skin of his inner thigh and sanemi jolts, trying his best to relax. 

each little gag you make drives him closer to the edge as you suck, lick and kiss his length, occasionally pulling off to use your hand to jerk him off. he feels dizzy. he should end the stream, call it quits and just fuck you till he’s satisfied, but there’s some sort of heady rush knowing that you could be caught at any moment. 

your hand dips between your thighs to play with your clit. the cock in your mouth muffles your moans, but the noises don’t escape sanemi. he spares you a quick glance and he nearly groans out loud. you look so pretty with your blown out pupils and drool-smeared face. he can see the curve of your tits through your shirt, jiggling with each movement you make. 

“chat, i think i have to end stream earlier than expected,” sanemi breathes. 

you move your hips closer to his foot and roll up his sweatpants. he loses composure for a second when you press your wetness against his ankle, swirling your legs and rubbing your clit against his skin. sanemi can feel the heat of your pulsing pussy. 

“sorry. i’ll make it up to you guys another time. see ya.”

he’s never clicked ‘end stream’ faster in his life.

[mysicklove]

𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄

DAY 10: SOMINOPHILIA

With: Levi Ackerman

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: gn! reader, sub! levi, nightmares + insomnia mentioned, oral (m! receiving), handjob in dreams, implied age gap, set in around season 2 timeline? im kinda forgetting which season erwin was in... kissing..lots of kissing, reader being puppy coded and levi is sick in love

A/N: sorry this is late!!!! i hope this also isnt too confusing considering it switches back and forth between his dream and irl. idk. also title is named after a song by The Mamas and The Papas that i LOVEEEE

Levi Ackerman finds himself plagued with nightmares. It was always like that though, since he could remember at least. Three to four nights a week he awakes in the middle of night dripping with sweat with his heart nearly beating out of his chest. He has grown used to the lack of sleep by now, it barely bugs him anymore.

That is, until he found someone to share his bed with. 

You were his light, as dramatic and sappy as it sounds, and something he will never admit out loud. But it was true, finally in this dim world he finds himself in, you came crashing in, brighter than the sun. He had fallen for you in record time, and you, drawn to his stoic and feisty aura, came tumbling down after him.

It's been a year now since you've gotten together, and Levi swears the nightmares are getting less frequent. 

Well, at least in the nights where you lay beside him. The nights where you hold him, and he has easier access to your heartbeat. The steady rhythm of your chest rising and falling. Alive.

He doesn't go into too much depth about the nightmares, but you know the general scene of them, usually relating back to his comrades deaths. He has mentioned that the recent ones involve you, and it makes your heart crumble for your beloved each time his voice cracks through the explanation. You don’t press too much on the matter – the nights he wakes up in a cold sweat, you are there to ease him back to sleep, reassuring that you and he are safe. He almost gets a full night of sleep with you around.

But alas, you aren’t all sunshine and rainbows, and neither is he. Nope, you happen to be one of the most erotic people have ever met (though, he hasn’t met many). A sick brat is what he calls you, or sometimes a disgusting pervert, if he’s feeling extra grumpy. The nicknames fly past your head, as you pepper his face with kisses. It was all in good spirit, is what you remind yourself at least. 

“Soooo, Hange recommended–”

“No.”

You pout at the man, pulling away from his chest to glare at him. “You didnt even let me finish my sentence.”

His cold face doesnt let up, even if his eyes hold a playful light to them. “I am smart enough to recognize that anything having to do with Hange is a bad idea.”

You playfully hit his chest, and the man raises his eyebrows at you. A smile pulls at your lips, and Levi cant help but stare whimsically at you. It was unfair, really. “Fine, get on with it, brat.”

“How would you feel if I woke you up with a blow job?” His reaction is immediate, first shock, and then as a couple seconds go by he seems to be much more inclined to agree, but then finally settles on an scowl.

“Why were you talking to Hange about these things?”

You cock your head to the side, tapping on your chin. “Well, I mentioned that your nightmares have started again, and they told me that oral sex helps stop them. Something neurologically with your dick and brain? I don't know.”

He stares at you for a couple of seconds, bewildered at your explanation. But, he realizes quickly what is up, and he immediately pinches the bridge of his nose with a long sigh. “They are fucking with you, idiot. Just trying to get me laid. Hange has always been like that.”

Your face falls at the words, and Levi swears you managed to master the kicked puppy look. He grabs your hands and pulls you back onto his chest, rolling his eyes when you hum into his skin. The warmth brought him comfort, and he finds himself more at peace. “I mean…It won't help with the nightmares, but who would turn down waking up to a blowjob?” Levi mumbles into your hair, while rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

You twist to look up at him, the familiar grin back on your face. “Yeah?”

He scoffs at you, an embaressed blush coating his cheeks. “Just dont wake me up early, alright. Just gonna piss me off.”

He swears he can see you wagging a tail. “Of course, Captain!”

Two weeks have gone by, and Levi has not woken up to your face anywhere near his dick. He has awoke to kisses along his cheeks, and neck, but that wasnt new, you were always disgustingly affectionate in your half awake state. He holds a content (half) smile for about ten seconds as he shuts the door of your room, only for it to drop when he sees Hange.

He wasnt the one to complain though, maybe you were just teasing him. You always did like to press his buttons. He wasn't going to give you the satisfaction of knowing he wants it. So, the dark haired man continues on, nightmares and all, through the weeks.

By the time a month came passing by, he knows that you forgot all about your stupid little promise – your stupid naive words that only worked to piss him off. He glared at you from across the halls for a whole week – never daring to actually show you real signs that he was upset. But after you accidentally caught him frowning at you from across the training grounds, he was immediately dragged back your shared rooms, and fucked lovingly, as you apolgized for everything you could think of that would piss the man off.

You didnt mention the blowjob, but Levi was content with the disheveled hair, and the hickeys and bite marks littering his body, so he forgives you. 

He forgets about the blowjob after two months. You were more horny than usual, so the two of you were at it multiple times a week. He would end up too exhausted to hold any real dreams, including his nightmares.

Levi was okay with it.

9 am. Levi, for the first time ever, was oversleeping. Of course when you woke up at 8 am, on your day off from training, and found your lover by your side, you couldnt help but be shocked. He was usually gone by 5 am to get to training. 

But you heard him woke up multiple times in the middle of the night. The nightmares were back. His shaky hands wrapped around you, and he panted into your neck, trembling like you've never seen before. You don't know what triggered it, but Levi seemed to have a really bad night. 

He deserves to sleep in. So, at fifteen past 8, you scamper to Erwins office and beg the commander for Levi to have a day off. He always did have a soft spot for you. For one, you brought happiness to humanities strongest, and also because his friend silently threatened him death if he was to mistreat you. Erwin agreed without much hesitation. 

You crawl into bed next to your lover, and begin to trace his content face. At least the nightmares were gone for the night.

Then, the realization hits you. This was the perfect time for you to finally do as promised.

You waited months because you wanted Levi to forget about your words. Of course, you assumed he forgot them after a couple of days, paying no attention to your promise, but you waited it out just in case. 

And now, the both of you dont have any plans today. A once in a lifetime experience, it has got to be.

So with one more glance at your lover, you kiss his cheek, hold back a small giggle, and slowly remove the blanket from his lap. Then, you slide yourself down on the bed, and carefully manevuer yourself in between his legs. He doesnt sleep with much attire, growing hot in the night. Plus with the addition of the cold sweat he often finds himself in, he learns that going next to bare was easier. 

You pull down his boxers, and are immediately exposed to a dark patch of hair. It's trimmed properly, but he prefers to have a little hair down their over being completely shaven. Something on the lines of protecting his dick from germs or whatnot. You dont listen to the details, only thinking about how hot it is.

The boxers make it past his thighs, and you glance back up at the man. He doesn't even seem to flinch when the cool air comes into contact with his skin. He snoozes peacefully into the pillow, his dark hair covering his eyes. 

His dick lays limp against his leg, and you pick it up slowly, careful to not wake him up. You run your fingers over it a couple of times, and then, holding the back of it with your fingers to support it, you run your tongue from bottom to top of the length. 

Levi doesn't move. You take that as a sigh to continue. 

Another stripe of the tongue, and then two more, and nothing happens. You grow bolder by the moment. You place his still soft cock into your mouth, and this time you do hear a reaction. Its a quiet sigh, but it was something. His eyes still remain shut.

Slowly, you begin to suckle on the tip, finding it easier to fit it in your mouth while soft. Your tongue roams the shaft, and you press sloppy, wet kisses to his veins. Blood rushes to his cock unconsciously, and Levi still has not stirred, even with his cock now hard. You chuckle with amusement, but dont stop your movements, now dragging your hands along his thighs to appreciate his body.

Levi was having a good dream. It wasnt like the past couple of nightmares, no, this one seemed to have a light hue. It was just the two of you, laying with your backs against grass. A open field, far away from everyone, and not a threat in sight. Titans were gone.

A peaceful world for the two of you. A world Levi craved. 

His hands trace your face, and he stares at you, admiring every crease and divot of your skin. You slide your way over toward him, leaning forward to kiss him. “I love you.”

He hums, eyes falling shut, as he wraps his arms around your body. “Yeah, yeah. Love ya too, brat.”

You giggle at him, and suddenly the smile on your face shifts. It turns soft, the tips of your mouth curling up in an almost feline way, while you eyes become hooded. He watches you lean forward and press your lips to his. The man doesnt stop you, gently kissing you back while your tongue slips into his mouth. Levi gulps when your hands trace down to his pants, and he quickly looks around the meadow, afraid to discover an unwelcomed guest. Of course there was nobody, it was a dream, not a nightmare. Your hand slips into his pants, and Levi’s back arches in the grass.

He twitches in his sleep and you smile fondly at the man. The tip of his cock rest against your cheek, as you admire him for a second too long, only to be rewarded with jolt of his hips from the source unknown, sending it slapping across your face. You hold back a laugh, and then grab at it again, mumbling out a, “Even a brat in your sleep, huh Captain?” 

You lean forward and wrap your lips around him again.

“D-Don't stop!” Levi groans out, hands clutching at your shirt while he squeezes his eyes shut. It doesn't stop the sun from getting past his eyelids, so he moves closer to you to hopefully block it out. You press your lips to his neck, nibbling at the space just beneath his ears.

“Would never,” You purr, and the man glances at your hand. His pants are pulled down completely now, and your pace was rutheless in its up and down motions. It sends him shivering, and covering his face with the back of his arm. He breathes through clenched teeth, and tries his best not to let out a whimper. The man hears your giggle, and before he could stop himself, the whine slips out.

The first noise of the morning was a low whimper. Not much, but definitely there, and unbelievably cute. You grip at his hips and try to take him deeper, but his hips thrusts back into your mouth with another paired whine. Your eyes widen, and you gag out at the unexpected movement, having to pull away to catch your breath. His dark hair whips back and forth, and he continues to make low mewling noises. “Huh, and you call me the pervert. What are you dreaming about, pretty?”

Levi moans into your mouth, wrapping his arms around your neck. His hips buck up into your hands, and you playfully bite his lip, earning a dramatic grunt in complaint. He grips your hair and pulls you back to his lips before you try and let out another teasing remark. Precum leaks onto your hand, and he swears that it provides more of the makeshift lube then usual. Your hand feels better than normal, strangely damp, and so warm. Did handjobs always feel this good?

He can feel his high approaching and his breaths come out quicker. “Gonna..cum. Fuck!”

You detach yourself from his lips. “No, no, no! Not yet!” You tease, voice light and almost giggly. It wasn't the first time you denied him of his release, but it was rare. You always di did pamper him. 

The man scowls at you, borderline on the cusp of baring his teeth. “Why?” He demands, short and simple, but shows exactly how peeved he is. Levi is more than surprised to feel that you didn't squeeze his cock in warning. No, still the warm, tight feeling, that does not make any sense to him.

“Can you do something for me first?”

A demand from you? Unheard of. “Get on with it, I-Im close”

Your hand movements become louder and louder, and it shouldn't sound like that. It's so lewd, and the squelching noise are never that loud. 

You press you lips to his ear, and a shiver runs down his spine at your breath, which is strangely cooler than usual. “Wake up, Captain.”

His eyes snap open immediately and he pants into the dark room. Levi hears it first, before he feels it. A loud slurping sort of noise, and the man feels his cock trapped between something warm, wet. 

A throat. Not a hand. 

He is quick to manevour himself to hold his weight on his elbows, and glances down at you, breaths coming out shallow and quick. You smile when you catch his eye, and for a second you pull away from him. You pepper his length down with kisses. “Well, well, good morning, sleepy head,” You mumble, letting another swipe of your tongue graze his thick blue vein. Then, with little hesitation, you dive back onto his cock, taking it as far as you can into your mouth.

“What are you–Fuck!” His legs instinctually bend outward, and his back arches. His head was still foggy in his half sleepen state. Was that all a dream? Was this real? He grips onto your hair, and does his best not to force you deeper onto his cock.

Levi could feel his orgasm approaching and rapidly, same as the dream. But this time it was real, and by god did it feel that way. His hips buck into your mouth and he lets out loud moans, tucking his face into the pillow to try and muffle them. 

He tries to ask for permission again to cum again, hoping that this time real you wouldnt lead him on. It comes out more as a command, but you just roll your eyes with a smile, the giggle in the back of your throat sending him spiral. 

“Cumming. Oh god. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He chants, and your eyes widen in shock, but you don't pull away from his cock. He was never the one to be polite in bed, the little brat was always barking commands and half hearted complaints. He must be really enjoying this treat if he was to thank you.

You dont have time to dwell on it much, because he forces your head lower onto his cock and cums into your mouth. You wince at the taste, but bear no mind to it as you watch your lover unravel. His back still continues to arch (which you will never get over) while his eyes are shut. The noises he lets out are soft, more of a mewl and a groan, but adorable nonetheless. His whole body trembles and his legs lay out wide, shaking under the force of the orgasm.

You pull away when he is done, and wipe your lips with the back of your hand. “Taste perfect as usual. Always so good on your diet!”

He rolls his eye at you, but it doesn't hold much bite considering that the man seemed to be basking in the post orgasm glow. “You are gross. I know that shit tastes bad.”

“Nope! Anything that the Captian makes is amazing”

He throws a pillow at your face, and you pout at him, a dramatic whine slipping past your lips. “Don't call me that, I am not even your Captain anymore, brat. And stop pouting!” He demands, pulling up his boxers before letting out a big stretch.

“Why are you so mean to me?” You complain, crawling forward to lay on his chest. “After I gave you head too!”

The frown does not drop from his face, but he does trace his fingers along your face. A silent token of affection that you purr into. “Took ya long enough. Thought you forgot about it.”

You fake hurt, taking in a dramatic breath. “Of course not! I would never lie to you.” The words are light, and holds a smile in them. “And hey, dont you think you are a little spoiled? Complaining that you got a blowjob too late.”

Levi doesnt even seem to react, his facial expression remaining neutral, and his words flat. “No ‘m not. Said thank you and everything.”

To this, you do nod, practically vibrating with affection to give. It was too hard to really be upset with him. “Super polite of you! I was so impressed!”

This does make him roll his eyes. “You really think low of me, huh?”

You poke at his cheek with a smile plastered on your face. “Aww cmon dont be dramatic again. You know I dont. Oh! Also, did it help with the nightmares?” You tease, knowing exactly what type of dream he really was having. “You sounded very….Scared in your dream.”

He seems to flush red, but alas, Levi was never the one to be on the losing foot. “....Yes. Seems like you are going to have to do this for me everyday. To stop the nightmares.”

You burst out laughing, and fail to see the small grin that creeps up the dark haired man's face.

PREV POST | MASTERLIST | NEXT POST

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

what if

Darry was trying to sleep. It had been a long ass day and he needed to get up early in the morning. The windows were open, blowing a warm breeze over him. The house was calm. It should have been so easy to sleep.

Something kept him awake. Since becoming a guardian to his brothers, sometimes he got this feeling in his gut that something was about to happen. He felt it when Pony came home late that night and when Soda approached him to tell him he wanted to drop out. It was this sixth sense he had for his boys. That was what he felt that night.

So he stayed lying there, waiting for something to happen. He was about to give up with his bedroom door creaked open. 

He knew who it was immediately. No one in the gang would have come into his bedroom without knocking, except for his brothers. And he would have heard Ponyboy hesitating in the hallway on the creaky floorboards before coming in. So it had to be Soda.

Darry rolled over and sat up just as Soda perched on the edge of the bed, curling his legs up. His little brother was wearing a truly hideous t-shirt he probably stole from Steve and his hair was all askew as though he’d been running his fingers through it. But the biggest tell was how he kept chewing on his bottom lip. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Darry asked, his voice a little deeper than usual from disuse. 

Soda shrugged, but moved into Darry’s space and tucked his legs under the blankets. A long conversation then. With Pony, he tended to need a lot of build up before admitting what was wrong. With Soda, he would just jump right into it, but it would take longer for Darry to get him calmed down and comforted.

It didn’t surprise him when Soda swallowed thickly and said, “Darry, I can’t do what you do.” His voice had a waiver of emotion to it. 

“What are you talking about, Pepsi?” Darry asked, mind racing as he tried to figure out what was wrong. Soda was an emotional person, but this seemed different. This was heavier than his usual caliber. This reminded Darry too much of how Soda was after their parents died. 

He threw himself into taking care of Pony, but when he was alone, there was a heavy aura around him. Darry felt that same thing now. There was a solemnity to Soda that Darry almost never saw, it worried him a lot. A lot more than Darry would ever admit.

Soda sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve, he leaned a little heavier against Darry. “Everything you do for me and Pony and the boys. But if you’re not here, then-then it has to be me and I know I couldn’t do it and I’d just fall apart.”

As he talked, Soda’s voice got thicker and thicker with tears until Darry brought his little brother into a tight hug. Soda clung to him tight. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Darry told him. Where could this idea have come from? It was ridiculous, the notion that Darry would ever leave his brothers or his gang. 

“You don’t know that,” Soda said, his voice pitifully soft. “We didn’t think mom and dad would leave.”

So that’s what it was about. He’d talked to Pony about the same thing after one of his nightmares. After losing their parents so suddenly, anxiety of abrupt loss plagues the three boys. Darry couldn’t help but feel the same, he worried every time one of his brothers came home late.

Darry’s eyes fell closed and he tried to hold Soda even tighter. “I know, honey.” 

“You could get hurt at work or a car accident or-”

Darry hushed him and ran a hand over Soda’s head. He just hugged his brother for a moment while thinking of what to say. He couldn’t tell him that it wasn’t going to happen, he couldn’t promise his brother that he would always be there.

“I don’t want you to worry about any of that,” Darry told him. “But, I get why you do and I hate that it’s something we need to worry about.” 

Soda pulled back, “Will you tell me what I should do? Dar, I’m going to be lost if you’re not here.”

Darry could hear the tears getting thick in Soda’s voice so he cut in quickly to reassure him. “I’ll tell you what, I will put something together for you that if…if the worst happens, it should make it easier.” 

When their parents died, Darry wished he had an instruction manual on what to do. He had to figure out where all of the bills were supposed to go, how to pay them, how to get custody of his brothers, and had to plan their funeral. The thought of Soda being in that position made Darry’s stomach turn.

“But,” Darry squeezed his hand, “but I ain’t letting you look at it. I don’t want you worrying any more than you already do, okay?”

Soda nodded. He hugged Darry again. 

“And while we’re talkin’ about that kind of serious stuff…” Darry sighed. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to say for a while.” Soda lifted his head up, and looked at Darry in confusion. “I never apologized to you for how I dealt with mom and dad.” Soda started to shake his head, but Darry cut him off. “No, I threw myself into trying to keep everything together with the house and custody. You stepped up with helping Pony and I wasn’t there for either of you the way I should have been. I’m sorry.”

Soda threw himself back against Darry and all but tackled him into a hug. “We were all grieving and if you hadn’t done that, who knows where we would be.” 

Darry kissed Soda’s head, “Don’t mean I’m not sorry. You did so much for Pony and I wish I’d done the same for you.”

Soda hugged Darry so tight, Darry worried he might crack one of his ribs. But he didn’t mind. 

The two of them sat there for a long moment. Darry found himself missing when the two of them were younger and sharing a bedroom. Soda would jump onto his bed in the middle of the night and wake him up just to tell him about whatever weird dream he had. Half the time, Soda ended up asleep on the foot of Darry’s bed. 

He wished so much that they didn’t have to grow up so fast, any of them.

“You should get back to Pony,” Darry said after a while. “He’s going to wake up and come stompin’ in here, looking for you.” 

Soda chuckled, “I love you, Dar.” 

“Love you too,” Darry replied. He gave his brother a light shove towards the door. He couldn’t resist adding, “It’s going to be okay, Pepsi. I promise.”

Soda smiled, “Thanks.” 

And as he disappeared into the hallway, Darry laid back down with a sigh. That had been something he wanted to say for the longest time and Soda’s forgiveness…it meant the world to him. 

[patsmassivekeychain]

Ok more coherent thoughts now. I can already see how this ending is probably going to be divisive and to an extent I understand why. Before it aired, I wasn't keen on the idea of the show ending like this. People don't like endings where the found family go their separate ways, except that isn't really what's happening here. And I think the way they did it was perfect.

Alison has come in and completely turned these ghosts' unlives around. She's given them purpose, connections with the outside world and each other, and above all a lack of boredom. Boredom is one of the main existential challenges the ghosts face. Alison isn't abandoning them to what they had before she came - she's leaving them with the tools to actually live rather than just exist after her.

And she's not gone forever! Families don't have to live together to be family. She comes back and visit them regularly! Maybe it's just because I moved out from my parents' in the last few years and I'm back for Christmas, but her being a regular at the hotel, coming back and visiting them at least every Christmas (maybe more) was very moving to me. Just because she's moved out doesn't mean they're not still family.

Having it become a hotel is a nice bookend and I bet it's improved the ghosts' quality of unlife a lot. As I said, their biggest challenge has always been boredom. A hotel/golf course probably isn't at all boring. How many affairs do you think Julian has watched? It's perfect for them, with all the people coming and going. I bet they even stage the odd haunting for fun. A constant, varied existence is a great fate for them.

Ending the episode with the plague ghosts was PERFECT. Obviously, it was great to see them again and it was hilarious as they always are. But it struck me just how much this decision has improved their situation - they've gone from dingy cellar to sauna. And that's the analogy of how much things have improved for all the ghosts.

Change is scary. It's sad when things come to an end. But sometimes it's for the best. And an end doesn't always mean a closed door.

[miniwheat77]

Rival. (Ghost x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, threats, mention of violence, (sorry if I missed any.)

It was clear to everyone on base that you and Ghost didn’t get along. It was no secret. You avoided each other like the plague and when you had to be around each other, you were always short with one another. You fought like crazy and always had something snarky to say to one another. It sounded a little something like "Get off my back, fucking slag." To which you would respond with something like, "Shut the fuck up, ghost face wannabe." Which would piss him off even further, spinning around. Right about then is when Johnny would intervene. Usually along with a "Steamin' jesus you guys are so annoying, go away." He'd mumble. Before separating the both of you.

It was amusing to some on base, even to Captain Price sometimes which is why occasionally he'd put the both of you on watch together so he could hear the both of you complain about what you had argued about while on watch. Usually about something childish and dumb. Nobody knew where it had started. At which point you decided you hated each other but they thought it was amusing to hear the slurs you called each other. On missions, it was always professional. You usually didn't interact aside from keeping the other informed about what you seen.

You kept your petty arguments out of the field and that's why Captain Price never intervened.

After a rough mission that you'd been sent on with a few new recruits, you were limping your way around base. You had an arm sling on, wrap around your foot. You were in bad shape.

Ghost and Soap were sitting at a table in the mess hall when their Captain sat across from them. "What happened to Y/N? She's in pretty bad shape." Johnny asks, Ghost narrowing his eyes. He hadn't seen you since you got back, he really had no idea what Johnny was even talking about. "Ah.. New recruit." He shakes his head. "She was up on a building and they got ambushed, he took off running for the Humvee, she stayed up to cover him, got hit in the chest by a bullet and it knocked her off of the building and the dumbass ran her foot over. Dirt had enough giveaway so it didn't break it. Thank god." He shakes his head. “He's getting taken off my base. He's just not skilled enough."

"I didn't run my own fucking foot over. Get out of my face." Ghost turns his head, barely hearing the conversation. You're standing out in the hallway with who he assumes is the recruit.

"Not my fault your dumbass fell off of the building." He growls. Taking a step toward you. "I was laying there for about a full minute before you hit me. Not sure what you were doing but it definitely wasn't paying attention that's for sure." You roll you eyes, going to walk away. The recruit grabs your arm, pulling you back. This is when Ghost stands up. "Fuck you. You're a stupid bitch. It's no wonder why no one here likes you. I should've run your stupid head over."

"Let go." Ghosts deep voice startles him a little bit. To his surprise he does. "I bet Ghost would agree with me."

A deep chuckle leaves Ghost's mouth. "No. I wouldn't." He breathes. Taking a step toward him. Grasping hold of his lapels. "Y/N and I may not get along. But we don't ever turn our backs on our own. And if you touch her again, I will break your hands. Do I make myself clear?" His voice is deep and threatening. A voice from Ghost that you hadn't yet heard. You watched with wide eyes. The muscles in Ghosts hands and arms flexing as he pushes him further up on the wall. "Y-Yes sir."

"Now apologize." He growls.

"Sorry Y/N." He breathes. Ghost lets go of him, nodding for him to go away. You watched the smaller man rush away down the hallway, seeing Ghost wipe his face through his mask. The man you're looking at is completely different from the man you don't get along with. Your heart races in your chest and heat pools between your legs. This entirely new side of him has taken you completely off guard. "Thank you." You mumble. "You alright?" He asks. You nod your head. Rubbing your arm with your worn hand. "I came over here to save him at first. Thought you were going to hit him." He jokes. Seeing you smile. It's the first time you've ever smiled while talking to Ghost. "Ah. I probably would've but he caught me off guard." You laugh nervously. He laughs as he walks away. Sitting back down at his table. Soap and Captain Price are staring at him wide eyed. "What?" He asks. "Did she.. smile? At you?" Captain Price laughs, bewildered. "Yeah, that fucking recruit put his hands on her." He rolls his eyes. Seeing his Captain nod. "I'll have a talk with him."

Soap laughs. "I can't believe the both of you had a civil interaction. Usually you try to tear out each others throats." He laughs. Seeing Ghosts eyes wrinkle, he's smiling. "It's different when someone is hurting her. You're not supposed to actually hurt those you work with. If that were the case we'd both be dead by now." He laughs.

You made your way back into your room, closing the door behind you. What the fuck was that? You sigh, sitting down on the edge of your bed. You hurt really bad. All you could take since you were on base was mild medicine. You were really restricted. Your shoulder hurt from your fall and your lower leg and ankle hurt from the idiot that ran you over. You needed to get ready for your turn on watch. You nervously slipped some shoes on. You were meant to be on watch with Ghost. You didn't know how it was going to go after what had happened.

You watched the time go by quickly, nerves setting in more and more as the seconds ticked by. Why were you even this nervous? Ghost never made you nervous. Sure, he could be a killing machine. He could murder hundreds of men and never even bat an eye. Hell, he usually harassed you and made fun of you constantly. So why did he stand up for you? And why did he look so damn fine while doing it?

You shook your head, those intrusive thoughts would be the death of you. You didn't like Ghost. He was a prick to you. You hated him and he hated you so what the hell was this that you were feeling?

You stood up from your bed, making your way for the door. "Hey. Ghost said he's got watch if you wanted to rest." Your Captain nods his head. He notices the way you jump slightly. "Sorry darling, didn't mean to scare ya." He laughs. "I was just coming to find you."

You nod your head. "I'll be alright to watch a computer screen, I might take up that offer for training in the morning though." You laugh. He smiles. "With a hurt shoulder and ankle? I think you'll be off a few days. Just relax." He smiles. You thank him, before continuing down the hallway. You could avoid this or face it head on.

Ghost is sitting up in the watch tower, he’s doing a crossword puzzle in an old newspaper. Right, old man stuff. He’s bored. He doesn’t expect to hear footsteps coming up the stairs and he doesn’t expect you to emerge through the door. “What’re you doing?” He asks. “Uh.. coming up for watch?” You mumble. “Did Price not get to you in time?” He stands up. “No, he did. But it’s not like watch is physically exhausting.” You snort. “You’re a crazy girl.” He shakes his head. “Yeah, you need me up here with your blind ass.” You joke. He rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Let’s see you hobble over to the alert button.” He crosses his arms.

You smile, looking up at him. “Touché.” You smirk. Your smile cuts right through Ghost. Sending chills right down his spine. He’s never seen you smile like that. “Are you doing a crossword puzzle?” You laugh. “Yeah. Got bored.” He groans. You laugh. “Maybe I can help you.” You mumble. “Really?” He laughs. “Why’re you being so nice Hm?” He asks.

“I don’t know. I was just offering.” You mumble. He stands up, stretching slightly. His jacket raises and you can see his toned stomach, his pants sitting low on his waist. You swallow hard, turning away from him. “You okay?” He asks. “What? Yeah. Yeah I’m fine.” You laugh awkwardly. “You sure? You’re acting weird today.” He laughs. “Yeah. I just didn’t expect you to stand up for me is all.” You blush, looking down.

Right then, he catches that glint in your eyes. He knows.

He takes a few slow steps toward you. Seeing you back up slightly. Until you’re leaning up against the small countertop. “Where’s the famous little bratty attitude hm?” He chuckles. His voice is deep. His close proximity is intoxicating. “I.. I um..” you take a deep breath.

He steps toward you, lowering his head so that he can look you in the eyes. He reaches down, grasping hold of your thighs and lifting you up onto the countertop. A gasp leaving your lips as he moves himself between your thighs. You’re breathing hard, panting almost. “Ghost-“

His name is perfect coming out of your mouth breathless like that. He can feel himself hardening in his pants already. “Tell me I’m not mistaken. You keep looking at me like that.” He glides his hand up your thigh. You keep quiet. Eyes boring into his hand as it creeps up higher. You push your hips to the edge of the countertop, pushing into his hand. Hearing him let out a snort. “Fuck.. you actually want this.” He breathes. “Say you feel it too, you have to.” You sigh, looking up at him through your eyelashes, seeing him turn his eyes away from your with a groan. “You can’t keep looking at me like that.” He breathes. “Is this because of that stupid recruit?” He asks. You nod your head. “Why?” He asks.

“I’ve just never seen you like that before.. and you were doing it for me.” You whine, pushing your hips lower, eyes getting heavy when his fingertips ghost over the seam of your pants. You take in a shaky breath. Feeling him apply more pressure, you can’t help but tilt your head back slightly. “What, you don’t hate me anymore because I stood up for you? No offense but.. you shouldn’t be so willing for someone doing the bare minimum.” He let’s out a deep chuckle. “Pathetic little thing.” He mumbles. He’s testing you, to see what he can get away with. You roll your eyes. He pulls away from you for a second, moving to make sure the door is latched and locked. He returns to between your legs.

He works with you to remove your cargo pants, hearing your breath hitch in your throat when he reveals you to him. He moves himself closer to you. Tugging his jacket off. He’s got on a black v-neck t-shirt. It’s tight on his arms and upper body. He’s fit. You close your eyes tightly. Overwhelmed by him. It’s funny, how much you hated each other just the day before and now you’re just a few seconds off from having sex.

He reaches up, grasping the hem of his mask. He pulls it over his head. Hearing you take in a deep breath. “You tell anyone about this, you’re dead.” He mumbles referring to the mask. You close your eyes tightly, smile playing at your lips. He smiles, gliding his tongue over his teeth. He likes seeing you like this. “God, you really are pathetic. That why you’ve been so mean to me huh?” He grasps your thighs, pulling you into him. He lowers his hands, unbuttoning his cargo pants and unzipping them. Revealing the thatch of pubic hair he has, sliding his cock from its confines. “You got a crush?” He smirks, seeing you roll your eyes. “Thought I was a slag hm?”

He chuckles. “Just f’me right?” He smirks. Tip lining up with your opening. You take in a deep breath, body shaking slightly. “You’re so full of yourself.” You mumble.

“Yeah?” He laughs. Thrusting into you, seeing the way your mouth parts into an ‘o’, eyes shutting tightly. “Looks like you’re full of me too.” He snorts. Breath right on your ear as he slides back, thrusting back into you. Feeling your thighs shiver in his grasp. “Open your eyes, Cmon. Look at me.” He grits his teeth. You obey him, looking up at him. “You’re so cute when you look at me like that.” He breathes. “Makes me want to ruin you.” You cry out, chills rising on your skin as he thrusts right into that spongy spot inside of you, pushing your thighs up so that he can reach deeper inside of you. It’s clear to Ghost you haven’t had much experience. Your eyes are full of tears as you look up at him. “You’re so wet.” He groans, holding you as he starts a rhythm. Steady pace as he rocks his hips into yours, watching himself disappear into you. Your arousal coating him and building at the base of his cock. He can’t help but smile. Closing his eyes. You feel amazing on him, tight. You’re warm and wet and he’s already addicted. He tilts his head back, a sigh leaving his lips. He grasps the hem of his shirt tugging it up onto his stomach. Trying to avoid making a mess of it with you.

He plunges into you deeper, leaning over you and pushing you back. “Look at me.” He breathes. You look up at him. He can see tears bordering your waterline. Making him smile. “Not too much is it?” He mumbles. “No- no.” You whine. Hearing him chuckle at your fucked out state. He leans into you, lips finally pressing into yours. He wraps a hand around your throat to hold you steady as he kisses you. Throwing another curveball at you. Not only is he really good at this but he’s a really good kisser too. You keep your eyes shut, even when he pulls away. He can see that he’s overwhelmed you. He pushes your shirt up, leaning down to attach his lips to one of your nipples, lowering his hand to rub circles into your clit with his thumb. You cry out, hips bucking into him. “Fuck- oh fuck.” You cry. “Simon- I’m gonna cum.” Your voice is stuttering, almost like you’re crying. “S’alright. Give yourself to me.” He doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s right on the edge. Trying to get you to that line before he finishes. He doesn’t want to look pathetic. You say his name again, feeling him tense into you. The mewl you let out as you say it, the way it rolls of of your lips. It’s everything. His thrusts are getting sloppy, he’s right there. Your thighs tighten against him, a sob leaving your lips. His eyes widen as he feels you tighten down around him. “Oh fuck-“ he gasps. Eyes rolling back as he finishes inside of you, riding out both of your highs. His hips jerk slightly, overstimulated by your pussy. You milk his cock perfectly.

“Shit.” He mutters, relaxing into you. You’re breathing hard, you still have a couple dried tears on your cheeks. Hearing him chuckle as he wipes them off with his thumb. He kisses you again before he helps you down from the countertop, hearing you gasp as you feel his filth spilling back out of you, running down your thighs. His eyes darken when he sees it, cornering you back into the counter. “Look good like that, Sergeant.” He breathes. Seeing your cheeks warm up. You flinch at the stickiness. He runs his finger along your inner thigh, collecting his spunk on one of his fingers. He raises it. “Open your mouth.” He breathes. You obey him immediately, something he’s always loved about you. You’ve always taken orders well. He pushes his finger into your mouth, feeling your tongue on it as you suck it clean. He grits his teeth. “Fuck, you’re a fuckin minx.” He rolls his eyes. Finger moving from your lips with a pop.

“Go get cleaned up, I’ll be waiting for you.” He breathes. You nod your head.

He can’t help but laugh at the discomfort you feel. Flinching as you walk.

You disappear through the door, and he adjusts himself. Cleaning up everything to make it look like he hadn’t just railed you on the countertop. He lets himself cool off for a minute before sliding his jacket and mask back on. Returning to his seat he’d been in previously. A few minutes later, you return. You’ve still got a limp but that’s not from him unfortunately. “Cmere.” He nods his head. You close the door. He moves a chair right in front of him. “Let me take a look.” He mumbles. You sit down and he raises your foot up, untying your boot and carefully pulling it off. He removes the wrapping the medic had put on it. Shaking his head. “Someone needs to show those medics how to actually wrap a foot.” He rolls his eyes. He tilts it carefully to the side, trying his best not to hurt you. He starts pressing on it, feeling you jerk away from him, a hiss leaving your lips. “I know it hurts but you’ve got to let me.” You nod your head, gritting your teeth as he applies pressure to it. Massaging the inflamed muscle.

Once he’s finished abusing it further, he wraps it up tighter than the medic had wrapped it, trying to relieve the discomfort you feel.

“Feel better?” He asks. You tilt it side to side. “Yeah, still hurts but.. better.” You laugh. He helps you put your boot back on, even tying it for you. “Why’re you being so nice to me?” You ask him.

“Because, it’s my responsibility as a soldier to look after you. And I guess you’re kind’ve cute so.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m not kind’ve cute. I’m really cute, thank you very much.” You giggle. “God you’re pretty when you smile like that, suppose I should’ve spent more time being nice to you.” He laughs. “Yeah, you should’ve,” you shove him slightly. Gasping when he forces you closer by your chair.

“I’m still your LT. Behave.”

[ma1dita]

lovers, or partners in crime

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 2.1k

summary: (post-tlt) directly after ‘if you need to be mean (be mean to me)’, The one where Annabeth and Percy think you're guilty too. You realize his betrayal a little too late, and he's left you looking like an accomplice. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: eye twitches guys im gonna crank out happy asks after this bc this hurt to the point of me delaying it a few days. drink water and take care luke nation

(posted 2/2/24 & betad by ellie and lari ty ladies mwah @lixzey @mrsaluado )

—

Exhaustion creeps up on you slowly, then all at once.

It’s been a long week at Camp Half Blood—with trying to stop a war from starting between the cabins and praying to the gods that the trio can stop everyone’s godrents from destroying the balance of the world, you could say you were kept busy making sure the place doesn’t go up in flames. 

Taking orders from Chiron and your dad has been your daily routine from sunrise to sundown, and you were glad to have Luke’s arms to fall into at the end of the night. But you woke up alone this morning, and a heavy feeling in your chest that’s been plaguing you for a while now feels more prominent as you drag your boots across camp for another long day.

Exhaustion blinds us and dulls the senses, but so does love. Sometimes it was hard to tell which was taking effect.

How long were you willing to ignore the signs in front of you?

Maybe it was just another bad day. Your mind felt like it was playing tricks on you, still in a haze from Luke keeping you up the night before, the feeling of his touch still lingering in your pores—evidence of eyebags and lovebites carefully hidden under concealer. You find yourself almost walking in a dream state, before Katie calls out to you, tapping you on the shoulder.

“Did you hear? Annabeth’s back. It’s all gonna be over soon,” she exclaims, and the both of you sigh in relief. You’d do anything to get this over with and take a long break. The idea of a long weekend with Luke somewhere, anywhere but here sounds like Elysium in comparison to what you’ve put yourselves through recently.

“You see Luke anywhere, Katie?”

She hums, her hand reaching out to fix some of the trampled foliage along the path, before she looks up at you, shaking her head.

“Not this morning, no. Maybe he’s with Annabeth?”

You nod thoughtfully, stretching your arms back to soothe the tension in your back. You’ll find him sooner or later, now that this is all over.

You always do.

—

“Clarisse stole the master bolt.” 

Your fingers wound themselves tighter around Luke’s at Percy’s declaration, but you can’t help but watch your boyfriend’s face closely as the rest of the conversation passes in the background. It’s been a weird day, to say the least—helping to set up for Percy’s celebration, and Luke being tightlipped and distant the whole while. You don’t think he’s actually said a single word to you since last night until he dragged you into his cabin to see Annie and Percy.

“Everyone was ready to join the war here. To start fighting each other. An accusation against Clarisse…” you reason awkwardly, more of a question than a statement. Standing here with your friends, you feel like the odd one out. How could you miss out on Clarisse being the lightning thief? But Luke looks at the two kids in front of you as determined as the devil himself.

He knew. 

He spares you a sidelong glance, a smile quirking up on the scarred side of his face.

When did Luke start making plans without you? 

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, tranquility comes off of you in waves; you barely notice that Luke drops your hand until you hear him speak again. 

“You’ve stopped the war. You’ve saved the world. Now, it’s safe to tell Chiron and finish cleaning up the mess. I told him we needed to meet him away from the celebration so we can talk without any of Clarisse’s supporters noticing.” Luke crosses his arms, trying to avoid the reach of your powers and your scorching stare while his gaze is sharp on Percy, and suddenly, the heavy feeling in your chest has a name, revealing itself as doubt. 

How could you be so stupid? 

Eyes don’t lie, even if Luke does, and you finally see through him, so much that you fear you’ve found his other side. 

Annabeth grabs your hand, your head whipping to look at her as she speaks, “We’ll keep an eye on Clarisse while you’re gone. Make sure she isn’t going anywhere.” You feel your body shake with paranoia as you start to question everything until the daughter of Athena pulls you back to the present. Taking quick steps out of cabin 11, you take a glance back at Luke, seeing him look glumly at you from the doorway, and it reminds you of a simpler time five years ago, with him standing in the same spot he introduced himself to you on his first day at camp. This time, you don’t walk away.

“I’ll find you later, I…I just need to talk to Luke real quick,” you say biting your lip hesitantly. Annabeth’s gaze is cold as steel as she nods, doubt now running through her as well as she watches you walk back to your boyfriend. You catch him by the arm as he tries to glide past you.

“Hey, are you okay?” You’re searching for an answer Luke will never give you, not out loud—as he dodges your glances, keeping a distance between you two. 

“Come on, I’ve gotta go,” he gruffs, anxiety running off of him in waves as his hands fidget at his sides. The sun is setting, and he needs to finish what he was told to do.

“We still have a bit of ti—” He interrupts you swiftly, “Not enough.”

“I know you’re always in charge around here, but not everything can go the way we want, you know?”

Your lips turn into a frown at his words, and you wonder who it is you’re talking to. Surely, not the boy whose arms you fell asleep in last night. You used to be able to figure him out so easily, but now… he’s acting like you’re an enemy. The banter he deals doesn’t usually make you feel like you’re at the short end of a stick, and though he’s right in front of you, it feels like his mind is already miles away. You’re desperate to hold onto whatever you can though, not wanting to let go of whatever’s plaguing him.

“Angelface. Look at me. Percy’s a hero, everything else will fix itself, why are you so—”

Luke sighs, blinking slowly, and you’re surprised when he pulls your hands to his chest, placing them under his camp beads, so you stop speaking. 

You never know when the last time is until it happens. You didn’t think it’d feel like this.

“I need to do this.” 

He’s not talking about turning in Clarisse anymore, and your body reacts before your mind does, surging forward to hug him. Your fingers run up the expanse of his back, the smell of citrus and musk being familiar but the discomfort in his embrace is not. From here, you can’t see his eyes, but his heart rate accelerates as he wounds his hands in your hair, pulling you closer until the space between you is nonexistent.

“Please,” he mumbles. 

Is it a request? 

The shock runs through your veins as you try to think of what to say next—Luke’s never been one to beg.

“I’d do anything to protect our home, Luke, you don’t have to convince me when it’s the right thing to do.”

Your name falls from his lips, almost like he disagrees with what you said, and then you realize he’s begging you.

He’s asking for your permission. He’s asking you to let him go.

“You’re my home, Trouble. You know that right? You’re the only thing that matters to me.”

You try to nod, try to pull away to look at him but he presses you harder into his embrace, like he knows he won’t have the chance again. It hurts, though not in the way you expect.

“L-Luke, you’re hurting me.” Your breath quickens as you try to unravel yourself from him, but you’re unsure where he ends and you begin.

“Just a little bit longer.” 

Your nose buries itself into his neck, and you realize he’s trembling, but you can’t figure out who’s scared, him or you? Voices are echoing in your head and it’s too loud; you clench your fists into his orange camp shirt. Why do you always need to see the proof to believe it’s real? Why do you have to wait until the damage is done?

“I have to do this, Trouble. Everything will change and there’s no other way— either we win or we die. Failure isn’t an option for me. Not again.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the dramatic one,” you mutter, closing your eyes so you don’t have to face the truth for a while more, “but I still love you, despite it.” 

Despite this.

A watery chuckle escapes you, and his hands are trembling as he pushes a strand of your hair back. He holds onto you more softly now, and whether you know it or not, it’s to make up for all the time he’ll have to go without holding you after this. Percy calls out to him in the distance and once Luke frees you from his arms, you wonder why it feels like you’re unraveling at the seams, slowly parting from him. The tether you have on each other loosens, and it’s hard to tell who is being freed, and who is letting go. Luke walks away wordlessly, curls bouncing in the brisk air without a second glance until you call out to him.

“I’ll find you!”

A threat disguised as a promise, you stand there in the middle of the path feeling exposed as the wretched little girl at your core, desperate to be loved, desperate to be enough. 

But it’s not enough for him to stay, now is it?

—-

The truth is, Luke broke your heart before you even lost him, by hitting you where it hurts— he hit home. Camp Half-Blood has always been the one place you’ve known as home, and even if you claim to hate it—you’d die protecting it if that’s what was needed of you. You stay vigilant next to Annabeth, who looks up at your unusually quiet demeanor, and you feel like you have to confess to a crime that you didn’t commit.

“Luke’s leaving camp.”

She nods stiffly without answering you, wondering if you know about what else he’s done, too. Unlike you though, she’d rather find out before the damage is done.

The sun had set an hour ago, and fireworks were going off in the distance, everyone celebrating a hero’s return. You noticed Clarisse still sitting around the campfire with her siblings, Chiron still present and watching the festivities, and what had to be your last straw was noticing Annabeth had disappeared from your side. So you do what you do best, chase after Luke, and hope that you’re not too late.

Your breath heaves as you run through the dark forest without a single plan in mind and hoping, just hoping that no one’s hurt. You run faster towards the sound of swords clanging against each other, two figures illuminated by the fireworks in the distance.

What you didn’t expect to see was Luke’s sword pointed at an injured son of Poseidon sprawled out in the dirt.

“Percy!” your voice yells out shakily, your instincts kicking in as the truth is laid out in front of you, something darker and much worse than anything you could’ve imagined. Blue light illuminates the scarred side of your boyfriend’s face as he turns to look at you with shimmering eyes, and you see Annabeth with her sword raised at…the both of you.

Is this what love is… looking at a person who’s hurt you and still hoping they’re alright? You’re exhausted, wondering how long he’s been lying to your face—while he holds you, kisses you, and takes your pain away… and it all amounted to feeling guilty for letting his deception slip through your fingers and hurting the people you love. 

Luke’s scar you used to compare to a bolt of lightning now looks like a tear cascading from regret. And perhaps he does regret this, losing Annabeth and losing you, but he never turns back on his word once he’s made a decision. 

This one was just made without you. 

There’s a moment where everything goes silent despite the booming in the sky and you both take one last good look at each other, and Percy and Annabeth are unsure if you two look like forlorn lovers, or partners in crime.

“Castellan…”

His face hardens again at the wavering sound of your voice, almost unrecognizable in the dim light, and you know now that this is it. You’ve always been convinced that a love like the one you and Luke share is tailor-made and stitched together by the Fates. But the strings are cut, and like Atropos, he’s the one holding the scissors.

The last thing you see are his dark eyes and how he turns to run away, headfirst into a future without you. 

For a second you could’ve sworn they flashed gold.

—

“I wanted to hurt you

 but the victory is that I could not stomach it.” 

 -Richard Siken

next part: love like a blister: the five stages of loving losing luke

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— What if I'm not good enough, anymore?

pairings: beth mead x reader, vivianne miedema x reader

summary: reader has self doubts that she won't be as good as she was when she makes her return to the pitch.

Warnings: heavy angst, talks of mental health and a minor eating disorder.

Okay, I won't lie. This was, well this was hard to write and there was a lot of tears throughout because its' a little too close to home right now with things going on, but you guys wanted it, so here we go.

Let me know what you think!

"What if I'm not good enough now?" The thoughts spiral through your brain.

It's your number one fear. It's the thing that keeps you up at night, lying awake with those thoughts plaguing your mnd.

You know you shouldn't be thinking about things like that, but your mentality of your injury was overshadowing the physical rehab your still yet to get the greenlight for yet.

Would you be good as you were when you come back?

Sure you've watched each of the girls come back from their injury and make a return to the pitch, some of them a bit more rockier than usual, but now they're striving and you can only hope that your own journey will be as smooth sailing.

Your impatient though, both incredibly and insufferably impatient.

It's a downfall that has come back to bite you in the ass, one too many times previously.

Could you blame your dad for that though?

Growing up, hes' only ever pushed you. Pushed you to push through the pain; Your dad was an impatient man himself, one with a temper and he didn't believe that letting you rest was the best thing sometimes.

The first few months of your recovery after your surgery felt long, all you felt was agitation and more so frustration not being allowed to do things that you once took for granted.

You really did hate depending on those around you, you felt like a constant burden despite that fact that all the girls kept on reassuring you that you weren't, but in the back of your mind, you always thought different about it.

The one thing you never realised would be as hard would be the mentality of it all, the physical pain was tiresome and therefor, your mental health was taking a battering rapadly.

"You okay, kid?" The familiar voice of your team mum speaks up to get your attention.

Your too wrapped up in your thoughts to barely even hear her, "M' fine,"

"You sure? You seem quiet-- What is it, does your knee hurt? Do you want another pillow?" Beth tries to offer her help, assisting you with whatever you need.

"I'm fine, Beth!" You shout loudly.

You hadn't meant to snap at Beth of course, but your emotions got the better of you and your temper has always been your worst enemy, amongst other things.

"O... Okay," Beth is taken back by your sudden burst of anger. "Well, you know I'm just through the kitchen if you need me, okay?" She reassures you.

"Mhm," You barely acknowledge her precense, choosing to stare blankly at old episode of Bones you'd put on to try and disract your mind.

You wanted to retreat to your bedroom, but after the last time where you remembered the staged intervention with a certain blonde english skipper, you thought against the idea of that.

So for now, you'll just sit on the sofa, wallowing in self-pity and get attached to fictional characters whos' deathes are inevitable.

"Have you noticed that Y/N is uh..." Beth whispers, hesistant for you to overhear her from the other room.

"Distant?" Viv guesses straight away.

The blonde furrows her eyebrows and nods in slow motion, "Well, yes, uh and a bit snippy as well. Should we talk to her?" She wonders, trying to figure out the best approach to talk to you.

"It's probably a good idea--" Vivs' agreement is cut off.

"You know I can hear you guys, right?" You make your voice known, of course you knew they would be whispering about you.

After all, your not a complete moron to not hear it.

"Y/N," Viv begins to speak.

"I don't like it when you talk about me like that!" You uneasily stand up on your feet, going to move towards the direction of your bedroom for a bit of peace and quiet.

"At least use your crutches!" Beth shouts aloud, gesturing to the item that is currently the bane of your life.

"Bite me!" You respond, scowling at them as you shuffle slowly past, trying to withhold from wincing at the sudden shooting pain in your knee.

At least you do a good job to hold your tears back until your in the confindments of your own bedroom, comforted with the blanket that you can wrap around you and try to block out the rest of the world.

As soon as you got the go-ahead from the doctors to start your rehab at the training grounds, you were virtually jumping for joy.

At least you was on the outside; Inside on your head, it was a completely different story. You were battling your own inner feelings of doubt.

Of course from the minute you'd been allowed back in the gym, every single of your team mates were more than supportive of this step forward in your recovery.

They all knew you'd been finding it difficult, and sure enough most of them had even got the brunt of your anger.

Starting out with your rehab process, you had to start with light excercises but in your head that didn't feel good enough.

You want to be out there on the pitch already, you hate the fact that the healing process is taking so long.

You didn't feel it was fair at all, why won't your stupid knee just heal already?

"You've got this, Y/N!" One of the pyshios' encourage you to keep going with the current training excercise, something so simple felt so hard to you now.

Viv smiles encouringly as she cheers you on from the sidelines, "You're doing great kid." She states.

"Keep pushing!" Leahs' right there beside her, her voice gentle but still managed to hold a firm tone in a way to keep you going.

"You can do this, kid!" Beth chimes in, trying to keep her own tears of happiness at bay as she watches your journey to recovery step that step forward. "We're so proud of you!"

Tears of frustration were visable, even the simplest of tasks felt so gruelling; There were even times whether you questioned if you wanted to hang your football boots up, but that was an easy way out.

Football is your life and its your passion, you'd be gutted to do that.

You had to push forward, you had to do better. You had to be better!

If only it was that simlpe, right?

Nobody warned you off the setbacks in the journey. You had to figure that one out yourself, even the slighest knock and it was a step backwards.

It always seems to be one step forward, two steps back.

You shouldn't have pushed yourself, you should have known better, but of course, your stubborn streak let you down.

In your own opinion, your recovery wasn't going as quick as you wanted it to. So you took it upon yourself to train extra hard in the gym, sure it was difficult under the watchful eye of the older girls' as they wanted to make sure to not let you overdo it, but you had your ways.

Making excuses and staying late at the training grounds once the team had all gone, pushing yourself to the extreme - Unaware of just how much damage you'd be putting yourself through.

Damn stupid knee injuries.

It works to keep your extra training sessions a secret, at least for a while, until one night when your caught red handed, by no other person that the stern blonde English skipper, so just so happens to have come back to pick something up that she'd forgotten.

"Y/N?" You recognise that all too familiar voice all too well, having been on the recieving end of a few lectures.

You freeze in your spot on the treadmill, which isn't very safe in itself, "Shit-- It's not what it looks like!" Your quick to protest.

"Oh? So your not overworking yourself in the gym then, hm?" Leah quirks, raising an eyebrow.

"No, well, uh yeah. I guess?" You stutter your words, knowing you've definitely been caught out now.

Leah can't help but chuckle amusedly, "You guess?"

"I, uh... Look I know it looks bad, but I needed to do this, Le." If you've been caught out then you're at least going to try and fight your reasoning for it, even if she doesn't believe you.

Judging my her facial expression, the blonde definitely isn't fooled.

"Come on. Lets' go, baby England," Leah motions you to follow her, holding out her hand for you to take.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you shut the whirring treadmill off and gingerly look at her, "Why-- Where are we goin'?" You ask.

"Well first I'm taking you for something to eat and then I'm taking you home, its' already been a long day," Your English Captains' quick to tell you, although before you have chance to protest, she continues to speak. "And you shouldn't be pushing yourself anymore than you already are, alright?" She states.

"But..." You still try and protest against the idea.

"No buts, I know you haven't eaten much, buddy," Leahs' firm voice interjects, still continuing to hold her hand out for you to take. "Come on. Grab your stuff and lets' go,"

You should have known it would only be a matter of time before you were caught out.

How could you be so careless, though?

You didn't think you not eating enough would be that noticeable, but apparently not.

Begrudingly, you step off the treadmill and clutch onto her hand to steady your uneasiness coming off it, "Are you going to tell Beth and Viv about this?" You ask, cautiously.

"I have to," Leah replies in agreement.

"Why?" You fight the urge to whine, even if makes sense for them to know, you wish they didn't have too.

"You can't push yourself, kiddo. You know how serious this injury is!" Leahs' firm voice makes a return, not missing the chance to make it known how much of a bad decision this was for you to make.

You know it looks bad, you do but yet you still couldn't help yourself.

You wanted to get better. You wanted-- No, you needed to do better.

"But I'm so fed up, Le," You grumble, walking in the direction of the changing room to grab your stuff. "Why... Why won't it just fuckin' heal already?" You don't mean to swear, you've never been one to use colourful language, but your frustration is at it's brink right now.

"Whoa, easy on the language there, buddy," Leah jokes, chuckling as she wraps her free arm around your shoulder. "Listen, I know your frustrated, but its' going to take time and you know this. You can't rush it, or you'll make it worse!" She states, firmly.

"Stupid knees' injuries suck," You murmer, gathering your stuff together before you make the exit from the training grounds.

Leah chuckles as she unlocks her car, gesturing for you to climb in the passenger seat, "Yep, yes they do," She agrees with you.

"I just want to be out there on the pitch already," You admit, slumping down into the seat once you have buckled yourself in.

The blonde smiles sympathetically at you, understanding your frustration, "That day will come, but for now, you've just gotta trust the process and let your body heal," She pauses before she continues. "I know you don't like it and all, but you have to just be patient this once, buddy."

"Even if it takes forever?" You resist the urge to groan and throw your head back.

"Even then, because it'll be worth it when you make your return to the game," Leah promises you with a gentle tone of voice.

"Yeah, but, what if..." Your sidetracked from what you are going to say, trying to not spiral into your dark thoughts once again.

"What if?" Leah furrows her eyebrow.

You swallow the lump that forms in your throat, "What... What if I'm not as good as I was before I got injured?" You confess the fear that's been plaguing your mind for god-knows how long.

Leah looks at you concerned, "You don't know how its' gonna be, but what I do know is that whatever happens, we're all behind you," She promises you as she gives you a kind smile and gently squeezes your good knee. "The day you eventually do return to the pitch, you're damn sure we'll all be there cheering as loud as we can," She promises you.

"Even if you're on the pitch as well?" You can't help but giggle.

Leah proudly nods in agreement as she grins, "Hey, I'll personally stop the game just to welcome you on the pitch, baby England." The blonde winks playfully at you from where she sits in the car.

"Your silly sometimes, Le," You mumble, finding it hard to take the blonde serious in this very moment.

"I know you're all up in your head about this, but it's going to be okay," Leah words stick firm in your brain as you smile. "Your not alone in this journey, you're never alone. We've got you." 

© scribblesofagoonerr

[jhoneybees]

Fear

This is a first! My first smutty fic that is inspired by this song!

Taglist: @elvisalltheway101 @atleastpleasetelephone @i-r-i-n-a-a

Characters: Mid60s!Elvis x Wife!Reader

Warning/triggers: Never knew I would be saying this but...Smut! lol, mentions of sex, nudity, reader's first time-ish, nipple play, blowjob, male receiving and almost female receiving

_____________________________________________

The both of you are quite open with your thoughts and feelings and it's been like that for years and years, of course Elvis and you would sometimes feel a bit insecure about something but you two would find ways to work through it.

But the only thing that Elvis hasn’t shared with you is a fear, something that he thinks you might find silly and… maybe it is.

Ever since you met back in 1964, he has been dodging the topic of sex over the many years of dating and it's not that you’re dumb and naive around sexual things, no sir, Elvis sure knows you’re not a stranger to foreplay and it’s not that he hasn’t done the deed before, the two of you know he’s been with many girls before.

It's just this one thought, this one itchy thought that's been plaguing his mind ever since you brought up the topic.

Of course, he wants to have sex with you. Oh how he wants to show you how a man really loves a woman.

But it's just…he’s afraid that he might hurt you.

Most men may think it’s silly to have such ideas because it’s only natural to thrust themselves into a woman and pound them into the mattress.

Right?

Well, yes but there's something about the thought of seeing your angel face contort in pain, tears springing at the outer corners of your eyes and hissing at the burning sensation that doesn't sit right with him, he knows the pain wouldn't last forever.

He's just scared.

He couldn't bear seeing you wincing and crying because of him. He's always been so sensitive with how you're taken care of and yes, you're a full grown woman and he probably shouldn't be worrying about you so much like that.

Hell, he can't help it though.

This fear is scarier than anything else to him, even more terrifying than the big fear of proposing to you which he did a year ago.

Now he's finally married to you and right at this moment sitting on the edge of a bed in a hotel suite in Hawaii, on your honeymoon.

“Elvis…”

Elvis perks up at your voice, seeing your head peeking out from behind the bathroom door with that gorgeous smile. His lips curl at the corners.

“Close your eyes”

He does what you say and closes his eyes, he has an idea what you might be doing and he's nervous to say the least.

Swallowing thickly as he hears the varnished floorboards creak, a light whiff of your sweet perfume tickles his nose.

“Feel me”

He gulps again and when your soft hands lift his ones up to place on your hips, his breath catches in his throat at the feeling of delicate lace.

“You know what it is?”

He nods quietly, his heart pounding in his chest, he thinks it might go out of control at any second.

“Open your eyes”

Just…

How could he do such a thing to you? To tarnish your angelic, heavenly body, with how the white lace underwear moulds onto your hips and the little pudge below your belly button. The matching white lace bra complimenting your breasts, the softness and fullness of them spilling over the tops and little pink buds peeking through the fabric.

It’s all making his head spin. You’re so beautiful and he can already feel his dress pants tighten. He has shown his love to you in so many ways but he has never shown the way that he has been waiting to do and as much as his heart is telling him to show you, his brain is stopping him.

Fingers pushing ever so lightly against your waist. Elvis is in absolute awe of you, the pressure of his fingertips pressing down on your skin makes something crack inside of him, his breathing becoming laboured when the urge to feel your entire body with his palms enters his mind.

His eyes roaming up your body, eyelids fluttering lazily. A groan vibrates in his throat.

“You’re gorgeous…” he breathes, earning an angelic giggle from you.

As his eyes begin to trail back down your body, they snap up to yours when you place a hand on his shoulder. A breath sucks out of him at the slight contact of his clothed length getting brushed by your knee resting on the mattress between his legs.

He gently lays himself down at the light push from your hand, making sure to let out a breath or he would’ve exploded right then and there.

A flame ignites in his heart at just the sight of you crawling on top of him, your goddess of a body planting right on his pelvis and leaning down closer and closer to his face. Sighing at the feel of your soft lips pressing onto his passionately.

Elvis’ hands try to grasp onto something, anything, and what he finds is your hips, your squishy but firm hips.

Sliding them up to the curves of your breasts, he hovers his thumbs over your hardened nipples. Hearing you let out a moan as he brushes over your clothed buds.

“H-honey…”

Stuttering in between kisses. He groans at your sensual hums and gentle nibbles on his bottom lip, watching you pull away, he looks into your eyes that dig into his soul and with hesitant hands, he gently clenches the sides of your panties in his fists. Feeling your hands trail down his chest to his pants, shuffling back to unbutton and his breath hitches at your fingers wrapping around his cock.

His mind falls static at the image of you, leaning down and peering up at him with your pretty soft lips parting to take him into your mouth, knowing you'd take such good care of him because you always do, and as he feels your wet tongue flatten against his tip and enveloping him in between your lips letting the wet muscle slide down under his length ever so slowly and so gently, the wind gets knocked out of his lungs.

“Ooohh baby…”

His voice comes out hoarse and pleasured. He tried keeping his head up to watch you but the anticipation of wanting to feel you spreads all throughout his body and with that his head falls onto the bed.

Shaky hands going up to press into his eye sockets, a string of moans fall from his lips. He swears you must know every little trick, you make him become so undone in such a short time.

His hips stuttering, more slow dragged out groans squeeze out of his throat as the suction in your mouth milks every drop of him.

Elvis in a daze, his hands fall to his sides. Taking a few moments to come back to earth.

After taking a few breaths, he opens his eyes, sensing your fingers grazing his skin as you undo the buttons on his shirt, sliding it just over his shoulders. He almost chokes on his own saliva when you quickly take your underwear off and unclasp your bra, leaving you bare naked right on top of him.

…How did he get so lucky?

He’s falling in love with your body all over again because of the view of your little imperfections that you would always think are ugly, he finds them so damn sexy and he always makes sure you believe that too.

His gaze travelling down your frame, he grunts at how pretty your dark wiry hairs decorate the trail down to your womanhood. He’s hypnotised by your beauty that he doesn’t notice his cock is nearly just about able to be nestled in between your lower lips but when you grind on him again while biting your lower lip, he suddenly feels the wetness and as he's sucking in a sharp breath, the realisation hits him like a truck.

“U-uh.. honey uhm-”

“Hmm?...”

His brain runs in circles. That thought comes drumming back into his mind. He doesn't want to hurt you.

Feeling your hand travelling up his chest, his breath hitches at the mischievous glint in your eye, your hips moving to grind on him again and a mental flash blinds his vision. Your little hole ripping open twice the size causing blood to seep out and a deafening scream right in his ear coming from your mouth.

Sucking in the air as his cock slides in between your lips, his heart pounds out of his chest even more.

A small whimper rolling off his tongue.

“Hon-”

Elvis stares as your eyes flutter close, your face contorting slowly into pleasure and the sounds of small moans falling from your pretty lips, his horror thoughts come to a halt at the sight of your angel beauty melting into something that he can imagine is sinful.

His heart almost stops when you lift your hips. hovering over his hard cock, you lower yourself slightly rolling your hips over his red, angry tip. Teasing him. Barely rubbing, making combined gasps and moans fill the room.

“D-don’t, I’m gonna hurt you- please”

Flashes of the painful images flood his vision again. With frantic hands, he grips onto your hips to stop you.

“Elvis?”

Peering up at you with parted lips and furrowed eyebrows “W-w-w-we shouldn’t…” he shakes his head while quickly sitting up, leaning himself back against the headboard. Gulping thickly, Elvis runs his fingers through his hair, breathing in and out as he tries to calm himself.

It’s not just him who's been waiting, it’s you too.

He should be telling you.

“I-I-I don’t want to hurt you, Y/n…I-It’s gonna hurt a-and It’s not that ah don’t think yer strong baby, yer real strong b-but its just…I-I can’t bear ta see ya in pain” he stutters.

Glancing over at you sitting there on your knees naked in front of him on the shared bed, he swallows harshly.

“Honey I-”

“It only hurts for a little bit…”

His heart thumps at your sudden soft voice, eyes flicking from one of your eyes to the other. He’s looking for something, something like some sort of judgement but all he can see is bravery, certainty and just pure love.

“W-we don’t gotta do this anymore if ya- if ya don’t want to” he mutters.

The room falls silent for a few moments before your voice breaks through.

“Have you always been gentle with me?”

“Baby?”

“Have you always been gentle with me, Elvis?”

Clearing his throat softly, he thinks for a bit.

“Of course, darlin”

“ And would that change now?”

“N-no…”

Elvis gulps, watching as you crawl closer. Your legs on either side of his hips gasping softly at the coolness of your fingertip lifting his chin, your soft stare boring into his soul.

“Then there’s no need to worry”

Then ever gently your lips press against his, his heart sighing at your delicate hands cupping his face.

“I want your sex, Elvis”

[wukong-s-only-wife5000]

Heyo! So I was thinking about that baby fever thing I @ed u in earlier and I was thinking if maybe u could do some headcanons on what u think uh Reborn Wukong would be like as a dad to his newborn baby? I feel like he’d be such a good dad 🤭☺️

Reborn!Wukong: Papa Canons.

Pair: dad!Wukong x mom!Reader.

Content/Trigger Warnings: cuteness overload, my 1st shot at writing headcanons.

Authors Notes: CAN I JUST MENTION HOW FUCKING CUTE HE LOOKS IN THIS PICTURE?! LIKE.... OMFG, MY HEART. Anyways, IDK if I did it right, but this had to be the first one I did. The idea has been plaguing my mind since I saw both this request and this art you're referring to. Might make a part 2, but I dunno.

Hope you enjoy! Wanted to make this extra special bc your support and feedback always make me smile. <3

The audacity of this child to look so much like you. 

Looked at his precious baby from over your shoulder just as the little angel opened their eyes and made eye contact. Made his world stop and his stone heart explode.

He was so cautious and a bit nervous when you asked him if he wanted to hold the baby. The second he had that infant in his arms… his world stopped for the second time.

They had his eyes, tail and little fuzzies all over, but they had your facial features, complexion, and hair colour that matched the fur.

If you thought he was overprotective with you, get ready for him to be the most vicious Monkey King there ever was. 

He always made sure that you held that baby from beside him, not letting the child out of his peripheral vision. 

Someone tried to kidnap the child once… let's just say they didn't live to regret it.

He tells the little one a lot of stories when they can't sleep, only if you and the others are asleep, though. He doesn't need you or Pigsy teasing him about being ‘adorable’ and all that nonsense, but he also doesn't want the little angel to disturb your sleep.

Sure he was lenient with forcing you to sleep regularly, but now? He made sure that an hour or two at most when the sun goes down, you and the baby are asleep. Whether that means he has to carry you both in his arms or not. If that became the case or even if your feet hurt too much to walk, then so be it.

Oh how he enjoys when such occasions do occur. Usually he’d carry your things so you could focus on the bundle, but when he has to carry you both, of course he forces Pigsy to carry them.

He loves holding you both in his arms, especially when you rest your head against his shoulder and tell him how much you love him. Thanking him for blessing you with your bundle of joy as you often did to her.

Whenever you camp out, too far from any village, he makes sure to make shelter for you and the baby near a tree to keep the little one out of the dew. 

Makes the nest with the best items he could find and if it’s not enough for the both of you, he runs off to find other things that are even better. 

If you pass a marketplace that sells anything soft? He ensures that the most comfortable ones are procured exclusively for you and your infant.

He enjoys watching you feed the bundle… cause… ya know. You're his wife. He also thinks the little sneeze they do every time they’re finished is absolutely adorable, and it melts his heart every.single.time.

He watches the baby closely when they reach the age to sit up on their own. He makes sure to be ready for when they fall over in case you're too slow to catch their head.

He loves the kid, sure, absolutely without a doubt… but sometimes he doesn't like it when all your attention is on the baby to the point you don't acknowledge him.

He's an amazing dad, but he’s an amazing husband and mate first. GIVE HIM ATTENTION, DAMMIT! 

He’s still the same possessive Wukong, of course he’d get jealous if even the baby gets more attention than him. Give him snuggles when you get the chance, a plus if you hold him and the baby.

He still often gets you little gifts and things he thinks you may like, especially since he knows how stressed you've been since you got pregnant. It’s his doing, so it was the least he could do.

When the baby holds his finger and gurgles with that furrow you frequently did, he tells them not to talk to him with that attitude. Something that makes you smile, trying your best not to laugh. Especially when he scolds you for passing on that attitude to his precious infant.

When the baby does it with that large gummy smile that also reminded him of you, his heart soar. He'd have that content smile that makes any hardship worth it. You absolutely love that smile the most.

Despite the times he would frequently tell them not to ‘talk’ to you like that, he liked to say it served you right for passing down your sass in the first place.

When the baby gets old enough to eat mushed up fruit? He collects the ripest and juiciest ones for the both of you. Yes, he will beat Pigsy to a pulp if the gluttonous pig tested his luck to try taking some.

[chaoticbardlady99]

I Don't Wanna Be Your Friend (Astarion x GN! Reader)

  This man has a chokehold on me and I have been plagued by this idea for about a week.

Title inspired by the song "i wanna be your girlfriend" by girl in red

CW: Mentions of violence and gore (not descriptive), bit of angst, comfort

(Not my photo. I believe it belongs to Daily Gaming)

Synopsis- You and Astarion are in the middle of a war to prove who can set the best traps. However, a lack of rules seems to have gotten you into a predicament neither one of you had anticipated.

Sometimes you take it a smidge too far. 

 You would love to tell people you are some cunning, daring rogue, but the reality is that you are consistently flying by the seat of your pants. Occasionally it works really well- this was not one of those times.

    You never felt the need to prove anything to anyone.

Well, until you met Astarion. Within the first three days of traveling with him, your confidence and patience began to wear thin. He would make snide comments when watching you attempt to unlock a chest or when you scare off your prey by tripping over a bush. Then he would smirk at you- with that stupid, beautiful smirk.

He enjoys adding salt to the wound by taking on the task you failed at; usually lock picking, sneak attacks, and Gods only knows what else he could make fun of you for. You are very aware that you are not some fancy rogue and it never bothered you until now. You had accepted long ago that you are just a street urchin moving up in the world after teaching yourself the trade.

  The final straw had been when you had placed traps to catch dinner. Your traps had been successful (naturally- traps were your thing) and you brought back three bunnies for Gale’s stew.

Oh, but of course Astarion had something to say. He always has something to say.

  “Oh look at that- how cute. I’m sure sheerluck was on your side,” he quips, “You’ll get better eventually.”

 Thus began the war of all wars.

It started with small traps- nuisances really. Tripwire, a laughing or sleep rune well hidden, and traps that release horrible smells. Then it quickly took a turn for the worst; what were once harmless pranks turned into trip wires that release a swarm of bees, simple pits began to get deeper, and blasting traps that would send either one of you flying into a nearby object. It was never truly life threatening, just questionable.

  Well, except for the bees. The bees were not the greatest thought in hindsight; considering both you and Astarion had to help each other with the bee stings- Shadowheart refusing to be involved. You both laughed and he even complimented you on your cleverness. You swore you could have exploded in that moment.

   You have a massive, childish crush on the man and maybe the competition was your subconscious way of getting closer to him. However, your other companions were getting sick of it pretty quickly. 

  They had all hoped after the Tiefling party that the two of you would put your silly competition to rest so that you could all travel together in peace and they would just have to deal with PDA.

What a silly thing for them to think. PDA hasn't happened, but the pranks did become less risky and less frequent.  You were okay with this change.

   You feel like you and Astarion have become close friends. Even though your tryst didn’t lead to a romantic relationship as you had hoped, you were happy to have Astarion in your life in any capacity. If that was just as a friend- then so be it. 

  Which brings us back to the beginning- when you realize that your ‘trap war’ had paper thin rules and the lack of rules just might be the thing that actually kills you on this journey.

  All you wanted to do was clean yourself off. It had been one last relaxing day before you set off to the Creche, but you had thought you might treat yourself. Baths were rare and far between these days and you want to enjoy it while you have it. However, you were not planning for a simple snare trap to foil your entire evening. 

  You get hoisted up into the air, slammed against the tree, and drop all of your belongings- including the knife you brought ‘just incase’. You glared at the knife and put your hand to your blood fountain of a nose.

 “Traitor,” you whisper with a pout as you look for a way to escape the trap.

  Suddenly, you freeze as instincts kick in. You hear the Gnolls before you see them. Your bloody nose from the impact of the tree had led them to you. They attempt to claw at you- trying to rip you down from the tree. You feel their claws tear into your back, the side of your arms, and one of them even manages to take a swipe at your abdomen as you scramble to escape. The cuts weren't life threatening, but they hurt. A LOT.

  You manage to use the rope to pull yourself up onto one of the tree limbs; allowing you to hide some of your body from the Gnolls, but you now have an arrow protruding out of your right thigh so obviously that isn’t working well either.

  You bite back tears, frozen in fear. You really did not want to die this way and you certainly didn’t want it to be because of Astarion’s trap. You have a feeling he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if you died because of him. 

  You can imagine the blame and anger the rest of your companions would direct at him if the worst happened. You imagine the bloodshed- knowing full well that everyone (minus Karlach) would not forgive him for accidentally killing you. Lae’zel would be the first one to put a stake in his chest- her fondness for you is no secret. 

   Your heart thumps painfully at that thought and your resolve hardens. You will not die because you will not let that happen to Astarion. 

 You look around, your arms and legs shaking still with the residual shock and fear. You look for any sharp branches, a forgotten knife lodged somewhere, or even something you could cast a cantrip on to distract them. You have no such luck. 

 You resign yourself to your fate- the tears making a reappearance. 

 Unless one of your companions finds you first- you are going to either have to wait for the Gnolls to get bored and leave or they are going to kill you.

You pray to every God you can think of that you will survive the night.

_________________________________________________

 Astarion is trying to not look so desperate as he reads the first page for the hundredth time. 

  You had walked off a little over two hours ago- Lae’zel is on watch while the rest of your companions sleep soundly in their bed rolls. 

 The longer your bedroll remains empty, the more the pit grows in his stomach.

He didn’t know how to navigate your relationship after the tiefling party.

His feelings for you are confusing. The sex had felt different, he enjoys your company immensely, and he likes how warm he feels around you.

Instead of talking to you like a normal person or taking a moment to reflect, he decided to find some common ground- something you could laugh and talk about later. Normalcy.

He set up a snare trap close to the river you were all using to clean off and then a laughter rune trap somewhere on the path to the Creche. Hypothetically, they are very safe traps.

Unless he rigged them wrong? What if you ran into one of them and….

  No, I am sure they are just fine.

 He doesn’t even believe his own lie.

After about another five minutes, the anxiety rolling in his stomach becomes unbearable so he grabs his daggers and sets off in the direction you had gone two hours earlier.

  He walks quickly through the forest, checking his surroundings and looking for evidence that you were close by. As the minutes pass, he feels the hope of finding you safe shrink.

The wind hits his nose and he becomes stock-still.

He smells your blood- an alarming amount of it-in the air as he gets closer to the river. He fears the worst as he goes to look at the trap- hoping you will forgive him- that you are alive. Safe.

 He peers through the bushes and his eyes grow wide as the scene before him unfolds. 

  You are stuck up in the tree- his trap is still around your ankle. You are holding onto the branch like your life depends on it. It probably does since there are five Gnolls circling the tree like vultures.

  He can hear your soft broken sobs as arrows fly over you or hit the tree. He notices the arrow in your leg and watches as a second one lodges itself into your calf. You wince and close your eyes tightly- unknown to you that Astarion’s vision is clouded in red and his whole body fills with destructive, hot rage. He also feels fear, but he pushes it away, not ready to explore the why. 

  He lunges forward, slashing at the Gnolls with so much force that they are practically in half by the time they hit the forest floor. He is a man possessed as he carves his way through all five gnolls and then he climbs up the tree to you. 

His chest aches as he looks at you. He will never be able to forgive himself for causing you so much suffering.

  “Darling,” he says softly.

    You whimper in response and when you look at him- he feels all the air leave his lunges. If he needed air, he would have passed out right then. Your eyes were glassy with traces of fear, sadness, and loneliness- all emotions he is all too familiar with. Then you see it’s him and the biggest smile crosses your lips and you look at him with so much affection he almost feels ill. This was not the plan and he almost made you a midnight snack for a group of Gnolls.

  “You found me,” you say in a raspy, raw voice, “I thought I was going to be stuck here all night until Karlach or Gale found me. Or I was going to die.”

 You chuckle, but Astarion can’t get himself to share your same enthusiasm about his rescue mission as he cuts the rope. 

  He helps you down the tree and safely back on the ground. Astarion winces as you pull the arrows out of your leg. You find a healing potion amongst your things and chug it.

He collects your stuff for you. You give him another one of those brilliant smiles and Astarion tries to smile just as brightly back. You furrow your brows, but he turns away before you can keep analyzing him. 

  “We should head back,” Astarion mumbles.

______________________________________________

  The silence hangs in the air as Astarion walks with you back to camp. After about 15 minutes, you are back at camp and the tension in the air is suffocating.

 “Astarion.”

  Astarion freezes, turns on his heels, and looks everywhere but your eyes. He couldn’t bare to see you smile at him again- look at him like that again- not after he almost killed you.

  You maneuver yourself so you are looking in his eyes.

 “It’s not your fault,” he begins to protest when you shush him, “we didn’t set any rules and the trap itself was harmless. We didn't account for Gnolls when we started this whole thing.”

  “I almost got you killed.”

 “But you didn’t. It easily could have been you in that situation and me saving you.”

  “Will you please stop being so Gods damn forgiving,” he huffs with exasperation as he feels tears prick his eyes, “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I put your life in danger. I almost-”

 Lost you. He chokes on the words. The fear from earlier begins to come back to the front of his mind. Watching you cling to that tree, crying, and in pain had made him realize that you just might be more important to him than he cares to admit. However, that’s a conversation for another time- once he sorts out what that feeling in his chest is whenever he looks at you.

  You look at him sharply, your eyes raw with sadness, “Stop that right now. I am okay. I lived. It was a mistake and I know your intentions were not bad. You don’t have anything to worry about Star.” 

He doesn’t say anything and you hang your head.

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I- I should go-“ Astarion pauses as you interrupt him.

“Please don’t leave,” you whisper, “I rather enjoy your company.”

  You look at him with tears welling in your eyes. He stares at you in stunned silence, searching your face for any sign of deception, but he doesn't find it. His body moves before his brain can process what he is doing. 

 Astarion gently cradles your face in his hands and kisses you slowly, softly. He smiles despite himself when a gasp leaves your lips. You're alive and safe. When the warmth in his chest begins to spread throughout the rest of his body, he pulls away and steps back. Your face is flushed, a beautiful blush spreading across your cheeks. You look at him with wide, unblinking eyes before you shyly smile. Astarion could have melted in that moment. He finds himself smiling too.

 “Well I’m assuming that means you are going to stay?” 

  “I suppose I’ll stay,” he says while tapping his chin, “you do need someone to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble like that again.”

 You feign hurt and scoff, “Are you suggesting that this was my fault?”

 “Maybe if you were better with traps that wouldn’t have happened,” Astarion teases.

  You narrow your eyes at Astarion and you try to hold back a smile. You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him.

You start towards camp before you pause and turn around. Astarion gives you a confused look.

You run over to him and place a kiss on his cheek. He tenses for a moment before relaxing again. You look at him sweetly, a soft smile on your lips.

 “Good night Astarion.”

  As you saunter towards your respective tents, Astarion takes one last glance at your tent- at you- before he lays down with his book. Except he still can’t get past the first page- he is too anxious for the sun to come up so that he can see your smile again.

[yongbokology]

part dos of ‘don’t accidentally beat your dick to your best friend’

part one

black coded reader <3

warnings; smut

an: you asked, i delivered 🧞‍♀️

eren is a mess. a complete utter mess.

after realizing he’s been jerking it to you for the past few months, he becomes a nervous wreck around. oh it was bad.

his first encounter with you after the realization, literally happens the day after.

you were running late for work and your car was currently in the shop so you sent a rather urgent text to him with multiple crying emojis, asking him to take you to work.

without even seeing the message, he begins to panic just seeing your name pop up.

did you somehow use your woman tuition and found out he was fucking himself to you? it plagued eren’s mind for a few seconds, his hands clammy as he grasps his phone.

he lets out a sigh of relief once he reads the message and instantly responds.

‘yeah ofc, see u in a bit’

‘thx ren, you’re the best!’

oh eren feels like shit.

he felt like a pervert. like he wasn’t supposed to see you in your nakedness, pleasuring yourself for thousands to see.

“.. ren, are you okay? you’re awfully quiet today.. i’m sorry if you were busy-”

he immediately shakes his head “no! i wasn’t doing anything. i don’t mind at all.. just a bit distracted is all.” he clears his throat, eyes fixated on the road. not sparing you a single glance.

you stare at the side of his face, picking him apart in your brain. all these years the two of you had the pleasure of knowing each other, you knew eren’s mannerisms, his nervous ticks and more.

something was definitely up.

…

“god not this again. connie could you maybe not be so open about the porn you indulge in.” reiner is fed up with the porn talk, just trying to enjoy this sunday afternoon with his friends.

“okay but bro i’m telling you, this girl is fire. i’d def buy her only fans if she had one.”

eren isn’t too interested in the conversation. his head’s in the clouds. lately he’s been fantasizing about you. a lot actually.

breaking you in half. fucking your brains out in every setting possible. this was new to say the least. before, eren hadn’t had such thoughts about you.

i mean yeah he did sometimes think about what it’d be like if the two of you were together. would the two of you be good partners as you are friends? but he never thought about you in such obscene ways.

it is this next part that has eren almost falling out of his chair.

“[your user]. never heard of her?”

both jean and reiner shake their heads.

eren on the other hand feels his skin run cold, eyes bulging out his head at the username. it was your username.

connie is now pulling out his phone and eren quickly catches on that he is about to pull up your page. with frantic eyes and haste, eren waits for connie to unlock his phone and in the split second that connie rotated his screen towards the three men, eren yanks it from his grasp and dramatically let’s connie’s phone fall face down on the concrete.

“yo what the fuck man?!” connie yells, mouth ajar as he looks between eren and his phone that is definitely not working when he picks it up.

“i-i um. i’m sorry.. it slipped..”

both reiner and jean silently blink, throwing glances at each other.

“oh it fucking slipped? my five year old nephew could put on a better fucking performance.”

“i’m really sorry man. i get paid tomorrow, i’ll pay for it. i swear.”

…

“i really needed this, thanks for hanging out with me ren. karina has been more bitchy than usual.” it was no secret you hated your boss. you often ranted about her to eren, so much so that he hated her as well and doesn’t even know what she looks like.

“of course. you want some more popcorn? bowl’s almost empty.”

you nod and eren gets up from his spot on his bed and retreats to the kitchen to refill the bowl.

you shift your eyes to the tv, ‘bad boys’ currently at it’s thirty minute mark.

you feel a buzz under your butt.

with furrowed brows you shift and pull out eren’s phone that you had no idea you were sitting on.

his phone screen comes to life, him and armin in the background of the notifications that fill the screen.

there were a few from twitter and growing curious as to what eren’s twitter feed looked liked, you unlocked his phone and hit refresh.

your jaw unhinges when you pop up on his screen. fingers knuckle deep in your cunt.

you’re in shock like you literally didn’t film this a few hours ago and hit post. you just weren’t expecting to see yourself on your best friend’s timeline.

you stare at yourself, at first unsure how to react to this knowledge but then the thought of eren touching himself to you skates across your mind and suddenly you’re clenching your thighs, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

the thought arouses you.

eren comes back with the bowl filled to the brim and his smile is wiped off his face once he sees his phone in your hands.

“eren,” you start. your voice is low but sweet. “is there something you want to tell me?”

he sucks in a breath, pupils shaking as you lay the phone on the bed. he sees what you were looking at clear as day.

“y/n.. i-i can explain.”

your plump lips turn upwards into a grin. mischief writes all over them.

“come here.”

it’s a command that has him hesitantly obeying.

he sits down on the bed, farther than where he originally was.

you sigh and close the proximity by climbing into lap, the popcorn bowl being discarded to the side.

eren feels hell fire creeping up his neck. his mouth his dry and he can suddenly hear the thrumming of his blood.

“how many times have you fucked yourself to me. hm?”

his lips tremble. “a few times..” it almost comes out as a mumble.

your smirk widens at his blatant lie.

“oh eren, you and i both know that’s not true.”

you push him until his back is flat on the bed, your thighs on either side of his hips. you splay your hands on his chest and fully plant your clothes pussy on his crotch.

he could literally just cum right then and there.

“you know what i hate more than liars?”

once eren realizes you actually want him to respond he shakes his head.

you lean forward until your lips are grazing against his ear. your tits mushed against his chest.

“i hate disobedient boys,” you lean back up and eren looks dazed. aware but dazed. “are you a disobedient boy eren?”

…

needless to say, he’s not. he listens to your every command which is why he was currently whimpering, hands pressed against his chest, trying his very best not to touch you.

your mouth works wonders on his cock, it weeps in all it’s 8inch glory, precum finding it’s way onto your tongue.

you pull him out of your mouth with a lewd ‘pop’, eyeing eren as you pump his aching length. “you close?”

tears form in eren’s eyes. everything feels fuzzy. his brain is scattered but he still manages to give a slight nod. he looked so fucked out and god what a sight it was.

“you gonna cum for me pretty boy?”

the nickname makes eren whine.

“eren, answer me or you don’t get to cum.” you grit, your free hand taking hold on his throat, clenching your dainty yet powerful fingers around it.

“y-yes! yes. m’gonna c-cum.” he chokes out. his pupils becoming dilated as you speed up your hand around his cock.

you smile at this. “i want you to come in my mouth ‘kay? and you can touch me now.” your mouth is instantly on his cock after finishing your sentence.

eren props himself up on his elbows, the iron grip you still have on his neck combined with you sucking the everlasting life out of him has eren cumming in no time with a cracked moan.

“fuh-fuckkk.” tears are streaming down his face now, jaw unhinged as you lap up the messy head on his cock.

“got anymore for me?” you don’t expect him to answer, instead you squeeze on his balls and one last spurt of cum falls onto your shiny lips.

this has eren falling back flat on his back, panting heavily like he’d just finished running a marathon.

you lick at your lips and hum at the taste of him. salty, as expected but not overbearing.

“you did so good for me ren.” you smile, crawling up beside him. resting a hand on his naked chest.

eren lazily turns his head towards you, his cheeks tear stained. he looks utterly broken and it ignites something within you.

“this stays between us ‘kay?” he nods slowly at that, too tired to speak.

what in the world did he just get himself into?

.

.

.

tag list: @hellavile @animeloverzx @starlightmid @gobblethiskitty

[poopwons]

**Break My Heart**-Ft. Jean Kirstein 18+ MDNI!!

Synopsis: You and Jean break up, he doesn't know what to do with himself. Maybe you'll call him? (surprise, you will)

Content: (NSFW), F!Reader, Jean’s POV, post break up feelings, angst, cursing, depressed Jean, pet names, handjobs, fingering, praise kink, Jean has a teensy bit of a size kink, collaring (if you squint), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, people), cream pie, hair pulling, light alcohol consumption

a/n: I have never written anything this long before, but I got the idea in my head and it would not get out so, here it is. I was literally driving home from work listening to Olivia Rodrigo and Happier came on, so that's what inspired this 🥰 Huge shoutouts to @jeanboyjean and @cowgirlikets for encouraging me through this entire process!💜💜💜 ***also I know absolutely nothing about plumbing, so sorry if all of that is completely inaccurate LOL***

words: 6.9k

Two months, four days.

That’s how long it’s been. That’s the last time Jean saw you in person, talked to you at all. Sure, he’s wanted to reach out, he’s gotten drunk a few times and Connie had to wrench his phone out of his hands when he saw your name on the screen. Jean had yelled at him, tried to push him off, but Connie ended up with the phone, locking it away before helping Jean to bed. All in all Connie was looking out for him more than anyone else. That’s what good roommates are for, right?

Though, Jean is sure that Connie never expected to ever see his friend like this. Hell, Jean never thought he’d be this way; he never even thought of the possibility of the two of you splitting at all. The first week after you told him you didn’t want to keep seeing him, he stayed in bed, blaring awful sad songs, just wallowing in his own self pity. He supposes he still is, even months later.

The days without you have slowed to a crawl. He still thinks about you all the time, it takes all his will power not to scroll through your instagram, wondering if you’re thriving without him, or if you’re just as fucked up as he is. He doesn’t want to know, he’s not that desperate yet. Still, thoughts of you plagued him every moment it seemed like. Who does he make breakfast for now? Making a single serving for himself just seems.. pathetic, pointless, in comparison to making something for you.

The two of you had a great routine, his favorite, he thinks. You’d wake up, curled in his arms, peppering little kisses to his face, trying to wake him up. He’d groan at you before running his hands to your sides to tickle you, calling you a menace for disturbing a man’s sleep. The little giggles he’d pull from you were his favorite sound, he’d never heard anything better. Then he’d get up, make coffee and breakfast for the two of you while you showered. Sometimes he’d say fuck the breakfast and shower with you instead. Hot water cascading down the two of you, the smell of your shampoo in his nose as he kissed the back of your neck while washing your hair. Fuck. He needs to stop. Think about anything else, he curses himself, his brain can’t keep doing this to him, can it?

But, turns out, it can. Who makes your tea the way you like it, muddled with honey and a splash of cream? Who else knows that you only want earl grey when it’s raining because that’s what your mom would give you when you came inside from splashing around in puddles when you were little? That you want chamomile when you’re sick, and coffee most mornings, unless you’re anxious, then you want English breakfast. Who knows the way you order your meals from your favorite restaurants? That you don’t like water chestnuts because “they’re too crunchy without enough flavor”, or that you hate fast food lettuce but will completely devour the caesar salad from the diner downtown because you say the lettuce is always “the perfect amount of crisp and never soggy”? What does he do with all this little information that he’s learned about you, that’s now completely useless to him since you’re not here?

Connie managed to drag Jean out to go have lunch with him and Sasha the next day. It’s the first time he’s been out in weeks for something other than work. He’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, the most he can manage with how exhausted he’s been. The little chain that you picked out for him draped across his collarbones. He likes that memory. You dragged him into a jewelry store, showing him the necklace, saying something about how you thought it’d look good on him. He was never much of a jewelry person, but for you? He agreed, but only if you’d get a matching bracelet, and you did. You said it was your favorite, you loved it so much, and it went on like that, the two of you, in your matching pieces, wearing them everyday…

“Jean,” Connie breaks him out of his thoughts, he wonders if he could tell that he was thinking about you again.

“What,” his tone is flat, nothing like his usual light hearted one.

“Dude, don’t you think you should take that off?”

Jean looks down at his chain, then back at Connie, a frown plastered on his face.

“No, I don’t want to take it off.”

“Look, man, I know you’re still upset, but.. doesn’t that make it worse?”

Jean can’t stand the look of pity he’s getting, he shrugs and doesn’t reply. Take it off? And then what, get rid of it? No. No, he can’t get rid of it, you got it for him. It would be like throwing you away.. and he’s just not ready to do that, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be.

Sasha kicks Connie under the table, the two of them had clearly talked about how to handle today and it seems like Connie is going off script. Jean can’t take it anymore, he can’t stand the way his friends are looking at him, he wants to look anywhere else. So, he does what he’s been trying to avoid. He pulls out his phone, opening up your instagram. You haven’t posted in a while, but there is one new picture. Jean’s heart lurches into his throat when he sees it. Who is that? Why is he with you? He’s never seen this guy before and he doesn’t like it, right down to his stupid green eyes, that idiotic man bun, and that shit-eating smile plastered on his face, like he’s mocking Jean without even trying. The picture is innocent enough, a selfie with his arm around you. But why is he touching you? Why are you letting him? Did you really move on this fast? Did you forget about Jean already? Is this the real reason you ended things with him, for this other guy?

He hears a faint grunt from across the table, then Sasha is talking to him, he hardly hears it, the blood is rushing in his ears. Connie snatches his phone from his hand, Jean can’t even find the energy to snap at him. Connie groans when he sees the screen.

“Shit, man… I was hoping you wouldn’t see that.” Connie practically winces when he meets Jean’s eyes, tears welling up in them. His voice breaks when he finally speaks up.

“Who is that with her?” He sounds like the world has been ripped from him.

Sasha speaks up from her side of the table, having seen the post as well. “I don’t know.. maybe they’re just friends. Don’t overthink it, it’ll be okay.”

He sends a pitiful look her way, it most definitely would not be okay. He takes his phone back from Connie, rising from the table, hell bent on getting back home. His brain is going a mile a minute thinking about you and.. whoever that was.

Two months, fifteen days.

He stays in his room all week. Barely leaving, laid up in bed scrolling through your entire instagram. All the pictures of you and him are gone. He can’t believe you got rid of them, did you delete them off your phone entirely? Were all those pictures slowly being replaced by new ones with this guy? He hates the thought of this stranger taking up camera space that should be his. He knows he shouldn’t.. looking through this idiot’s instagram isn’t going to make him feel any better, but he has to know why you chose him instead.

He swipes through this guy’s pictures, he’s even got a stupid name. Who spells their kids' name Eren? There aren’t a ton of posts, but the few that Jean does see has him rolling his eyes, gym selfies and photos of him playing a guitar, his long hair flowing down his shoulders. Great, so he’s ripped and talented. Jean’s not out of shape by any means, but he isn’t as cut as that, especially since he’s been skipping the gym the past couple of months, unable to find the energy to go, and he definitely can’t play any instruments. Maybe he should learn, would that impress you enough to finally reach out to him? No, that would take way too long, he wants to hear from you so much sooner than that. Maybe he can start growing his hair out.. would you like that? You never complained about his hair before but, this whole thing has thrown him for a loop. He’s questioning everything about himself wondering what Eren has that he doesn’t. Maybe Eren’s better in bed? No, that can’t be it. You never once complained about Jean’s performance, all those pretty sounds you made when he touched and kissed and sucked at all the right spots. No, he definitely knew what he was doing in that department. So, that can’t be it, which almost makes it worse. That must mean Jean failed you in some other way as a partner. Was he not attentive enough, not supportive enough? Did he not make enough time for you? Maybe he should have tried to plan more dates. The thoughts go on and on like this until he finally falls into a fitful sleep, what little dreams he has are plagued with you laughing at Eren’s stupid jokes, of you being happier with Eren than you ever were with him.

Jean is sitting up on the sofa in the living room, Connie had begged him to at least come out of his room so he knows the poor guy’s still alive. Jean is scrolling through yours and Eren’s pages, checking yet again for any more posts.

“Dude, seriously? Are you looking at that guy’s page again?” Connie asks, as he sits down on the couch with a bowl of cereal.

Jean gives him a noncommittal grunt, before shoving his phone in Connie’s face. “I mean, what does she even see in him? He’s not that good looking and he has stupid hair. He probably can’t even play that guitar.” 

Connie gives him a sympathetic look, he knows it can’t be easy for Jean to see you with someone else, but it’s been almost three months since you two split. All the same, he’s Jean’s friend, he can’t always tell him what he wants to hear, right? He sets his bowl down with a sigh, bracing himself for what he’s about to say.

“Come on, man. He looks like a decent enough guy. I know this is hard for you, but don’t you want her to be happy?”

“She’s supposed to be happy with me! Me, not this fucker with a guitar, who’s side are you on, anyway?”

“I’m on your side, you know that, but this is nuts, she’s just a chick. You’ve been hung up for almost three months. You need to get back to the shit you used to do. When was the last time you even went to the gym? That used to be so important to you. You should go back, get some endorphins going, that would make you feel better.”

Jean huffs, Connie just doesn’t get it. He gets up off the couch and walks over to the entryway, pushing his shoes on. “She’s not just some chick, dude.” He spits the words out before walking out the door. Maybe a walk would clear his head. He knew in some regards, Connie was right, he hasn’t been taking the best care of himself lately, but his “just a chick” comment has Jean seeing red and he can’t focus on any of the other rational things Connie’s said.

He walks and walks until it gets dark outside, when he finally gets home he scarfs down a protein bar and flops down in bed. Closing his eyes and drifting off relatively quickly, worn out from the walk, maybe he should go back to the gym, he thinks, if a walk has worn him out so much. He doesn’t know how long he sleeps for, but the buzzing from his night table lulls him out of sleep. Bleary eyed and groggy, he picks up the phone staring at the screen. He must be seeing things. Or he’s still asleep and this is a dream. He sits up abruptly, rubbing his eyes, looking at the screen again. Sure enough, it’s your name that’s up on the screen, the phone is still buzzing in his hand as he stares at the caller id. It finally hits him that if he doesn’t answer it’ll go to voicemail and you might not call back. He fumbles to swipe his finger over the answer key, almost dropping his phone in the process.

“Hello?” Jean tries to make his voice sound calm and not rushed, despite the fact that his heart is practically beating out of his chest over something as simple as a phone call, at the prospect of actually hearing your voice for the first time in months.

“Hey, uh, it’s me. Well, duh, you probably know that.” Your voice sounds just as angelic as he remembers and part of him thinks he might cry right on the spot. “um, listen, I didn’t know who else to call, I-I know it’s late.”

“No, no, I’m uh, I’m awake. Wha-what’s up?” He hates how nervous he sounds, but he can’t help it, even his hands are shaking. 

“Can you come over? There’s like, a leak in my apartment, and the office is closed, I just don’t want to lose my deposit. I’m sure they’ll find some way to blame it on me and not their shitty plumbing. I mean.. Obviously, if you’re busy, it’s okay, I can figure something else out.”

So, you’re calling him to come help you, not Eren, interesting. Jean feels over the moon, maybe Eren isn’t all he’s cracked up to be after all. 

“No, I’m not busy, it’s fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Just try to soak up all the water you can.” Jean says as he scrambles off his bed, going to the bathroom to check his hair in the mirror, smoothing some parts that got ruffled in his sleep. He looks at his shirt, cursing silently that he’s still wearing this sweaty t-shirt. He puts you on speaker and quickly pulls the fabric off, throwing it in the hamper.

“Thank you so much, you’re really doing me a huge favor.”

He pulls a fresh shirt over his head, the shirt getting caught in his frantic movements causing him to have to talk louder than normal, so you can hear him over the muffle of the fabric, “yeah, it’s no problem, I’ll be there soon.” He’d do you a million favors if it meant he got to see you. You hang up and he slips on his shoes, rushing out the door to get to your place with his tools.

Jean’s heart is hammering out of his chest the whole drive to your place, it feels like his body is vibrating with anxiety. He’s practically white knuckling his steering wheel, his brain just going and going. He finally gets to see you, he’ll get to see you. He hopes you’re wearing his favorite pair of sweats. He always thought you looked so cute in them, so comfy and cozy. Excitement is starting to bubble in, until he thinks, oh, god. What if he’s there? What if Jean has to see you and Eren together in person, in a situation where he can’t just walk away. Oh, fuck, why didn’t he think about this before? He was just so excited to hear your voice, to see you, that he wasn’t thinking. If he has to see this idiot touch you right in front of him he thinks he might punch him. That would not look good on him, you’d probably even get mad at him, that’s the last thing he needs. He pulls up to your apartment before he knows it, punching in the gate code that he still has memorized, begging and praying to whatever good karma he’s drummed up in the universe, that Eren fucking Jaegar is not in your apartment with you.

He knocks on your door, fussing with his hair a little as he bounces on the balls of his feet, unsure what to do with all this nervous energy. When he hears the lock disengage he pulls his hand away from his hair as fast as he can, trying to look as casual as possible, like he hasn’t thought about you every second of every day for the past three months.

“H-hi,” you answer the door, obviously feeling a little uncomfortable with this whole situation yourself, but he doesn’t know if it’s the same kind of nerves he’s having or something else. But fuck, you look so pretty, so so pretty, with your hair draped over your shoulders in loose waves, the way you always wore it before, wearing a crew neck and some shorts. 

“He-” Jean’s voice cracks, it fucking cracks. Seriously? What, is he sixteen again? He clears his throat and starts again, “Hey,” 

You let him in, and he gets enveloped in your smell, he practically sighs as he breathes in the familiar comfortable scent of you and your things. He didn’t know you could miss a person’s smell this much. He looks around expecting to see the place how he remembers, but he’s thrown off when everything looks different. You’ve rearranged all your furniture. Thankfully, though, you’re the only one here, there’s no sign of another guy having been here at all. He lets out a little sigh of relief, following you into the kitchen where sopping towels are littering the floor. 

“I just came home from work and found it like this. I don't know what happened.” you say, waving your arm to the floor.

“Well, let’s just see. I’m sure it’s just a loose rivet or something,” Jean walks past you, trying his best not to let your proximity as he does get to him, fighting the urge to just take you in his arms and not let go. That’s not why he’s here, you didn’t call him for that. He’s thankful that you called him for an actual task, something for him to focus on so he’s not just staring at you, he’s afraid if he stares too long he’ll snap.

You stand in the kitchen with him while he patches everything up, it’s an easy fix, just like he thought. A baby with a wrench could fix this, so again, his mind drifts back to why you called him and not Eren, not that he’s complaining. He thinks it all feels very domestic, you watching him fix up things around the house. He’d fix everything you asked him too if he could hold onto this feeling. He’s surprised when you crouch down next to him, trying to see what he’s doing.

“It was loose, right here, I’m just tightening it up.” He smiles as he looks at you briefly, he can’t help it, you just look so pretty and you’re right next to him, right where you belong. 

You smile back at him and he feels his heart lurch again, turning the wrench a little more, satisfied with his work, he catches your eye, “and that should do it, you should be all set now.” 

He stands up, wiping his hands on his pants before offering you a hand up. When you take his hand he bites back a smile at the feel of your hand in his again after so much time, even if it is a harmless interaction. Standing up with him, you don’t pull your hand away right away, lingering there for just a second too long. Did he imagine that? No, no you definitely lingered. 

You brush a strand of hair behind your ear and smile at him sheepishly. “Thanks again, I really appreciate it.” God, your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“It’s not a problem, I don’t mind helping you.” Jean runs a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck, looking away from you, still nervous. He knows the whole reason he came is taken care of now, and he doesn’t want to leave, but he thinks that’s what you might want. 

“So, I should–”

“Do you want–”

You both speak at once, sharing a nervous chuckle. Jean lets you go first, giving you a look that says so.

“Do you, um.. Want a drink?” You look nervous, awkward. Surely he’s imagining it, he doesn't want to get his hopes up too high. “It’s the least I could do, calling you over here on a Friday night. I’m sure you had better things to do.” You give him another shy smile and he swears he could melt into a puddle right there.

“Uh, sure. Y-yeah, a drink sounds good.” 

“All I have are those hard seltzers I usually get, that okay?” you ask like you expect him to remember, and he does. He wants you to know how much he remembers about you; everything, he remembers everything. 

So, just drinks for yourself? No beer, no liquor, nothing he thinks a guy like Eren might drink. Interesting. So far, everything he’s observed has led him to the conclusion that maybe you and Eren aren’t together. Maybe Sasha was right, and the two of you are just friends?

“That’s fine,” He bends down, putting his wrench away, placing his tool bag on your counter. Turning back to look at you, the slim can in your hand as you hold it out to him. He takes it, following you over to the couch where you both take a seat next to each other. 

His body feels like it’s vibrating, sitting this close to you. You didn’t have to sit this close, but you did. He pops the tab, taking a drink to calm his nerves, and you do the same. 

“So, how have you been? It’s been a while.” You speak so softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear again, a nervous habit. Are you feeling the same tension he is? Is he making it all up because he missed you so much?

“Uh, good, good.” He lies, what is he supposed to say? That he’s been completely miserable without you? No, if he’s wrong and you have moved on, he has to at least pretend he’s been doing alright. “Work is, well, work, you know. Haven’t been doing much else. What about you?”

“Y-yeah, no, things are, um, they’re okay. I finally got promoted at work.” you smile at him again, before taking another sip. “I’m officially management.”

Pride swells in his chest, he knows how badly you wanted to move up in your job, how much you craved more responsibility. He’s glad your place of work is finally acknowledging your potential.

“Hey, that’s great. I’m really happy for you,” and he is, genuinely. “Is it everything you wanted it to be?”

You give a little snort, “I mean, I guess. Workplace drama is a lot more stressful when you’re actually the one in charge of trying to defuse it, instead of just listening to all the gossip.” 

“Well, I’m sure you’re handling it fine, you were always good at that kind of stuff.” 

You huff a little laugh again, thanking him before pulling the sleeves of your crew neck up while adjusting your position on the couch. That’s when he sees it, that little glimmer of silver on your wrist. His heart pounds harder as he sees it. You’re still wearing your bracelet. You still have it. 

“You’re still wearing that,” Jean points out, his voice coming out little more than a whisper, like he just can’t believe it, his eyes locked on the bracelet.

A blush blooms across your cheeks and Jean is positive it’s not just the alcohol. Fuck not getting his hopes up, you wouldn’t still be wearing something he got you if you didn’t miss him a little bit. 

“Oh, yeah..” you fiddle with the bracelet with your free hand, “I um.. I feel a little naked without it, you know?” you cheeks are still flushed as you look up at him. 

Jean just smiles at you, “yeah, I know what you mean.” he says as he pulls the chain out from under his shirt. “I got so used to wearing it everyday, it just doesn’t feel right with it off.” It’s not even a lie, just, not a full truth. His nerves are slowly fading away, getting replaced with renewed hope.

“Well, it does still look good on you,” you reach your hand up to run your fingers along the chain, Jean feels a jolt of electricity in your touch that practically lights his skin on fire, and that’s when he really knows. There’s no way you’d be touching him like this if you didn’t miss him, if you were seeing someone else. He’s never felt so much relief in his life. “Suits you, for sure.” 

He takes his hand placing it over yours, goosebumps prickling his skin where your fingers dance along the chain. “You..um, you have good taste,” he says, his breath turning a little shallow, he knows he’s not imagining all the tension that’s been slowly building up since he got here. “I never would have picked anything like this for myself.”

Your hand is so small in his, he’s always been bigger than you, taller, more muscular. He didn't realize how much he missed it until now, he was so caught up with missing all the other parts of you that this bit seemed to have slipped his mind. You’re looking at him with your pretty doe eyes, letting him hold your hand, he can practically see the hearts in your eyes, looking at him like you used to. Fuck it, he’s going for it. Drinks completely forgotten on the coffee table as he scoots a little closer to you, just enough so that your knees are touching.

“I’ve really missed you.” He whispers, leaning in just a little closer, he hears your breath hitch in your throat, your eyes flitting to his lips. 

He smiles as you lean in too. You want it just as much as he does. “Me too..”

When he finally presses his lips to yours he almost explodes with happiness, he’s feeling giddy, all these pent up feelings pouring out into your lips. He cups the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, a silent request for permission. He sighs as you grant it, opening your mouth for him so he can glide his tongue along yours, and you moan into his mouth. You fucking moan. He loses any semblance of control he had. His hands move, roaming over your back and the two of you lose yourselves in the moment. Without really thinking about it he pulls you onto his lap, moving his mouth to press hot kisses to your neck, nipping the sensitive skin. It always was one of your favorite spots. His hands run under your sweatshirt, caressing your back, savoring the feel of your soft skin under his palms.

“Missed you so fucking much.” Jean breathes out between kisses, groaning as you grind your hips onto his lap when he kisses your neck again.

“Missed you too. Thought…Thought about you all the time…” Your words are broken up by little gasps. Jean thinks he could die happy, just like this, but then your hands go to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off, running your hands over the contours of his chest and he feels like he’s going to burn out of his skin.

His hands follow suit with yours, pulling your sweatshirt off, discarding it on the floor next to his, drinking in the sight of you, sighing when he sees your bare chest. Running his hands over your tits, kissing his way down your neck and your collarbone before taking one of your nipples into his mouth and starts kissing and sucking, pinching at the other one with his free hand. You arch your back into his touch and he moves his hands back around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He just needs you closer, so much closer.

You just grind against him, he can feel the heat coming off of you, listening to your breath get more and more ragged as you wrap your arms around his neck in order to get closer, pulling his head up. 

“I’m sorry. Jean, I’m so sorry.. I never should have–” your voice sounds broken, despite the desire and need coursing through the both of you. It breaks his heart to hear you sounding so sad. You don’t even have to explain what you’re apologizing for, he already knows. 

Jean cuts you off with a kiss, running his fingers through your hair, shushing you softly. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” He soothes, pressing soft kisses between his words. “Later. We’ll talk about it later, yeah?” He pulls back, pressing his forehead to yours, looking in your eyes with all the love he has for you. 

You give him a feeble little nod, kissing him passionately. Your tongues glide together as you taste each other, making up for lost time, and god, does he want to make up for it. With that in mind, his hands move to the plush of your ass, squeezing as you keep your lips on him. As much as he doesn’t want to push you away from him, he needs to touch you. He runs his hands over your bare thighs before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, pushing you back just enough so he can get the leverage he needs. Tugging them off, you lift your hips to help him. He looks down and sees you clad in lace, one of his favorite pairs. A brief look of surprise as his brain sorts through it. You… you planned for this, at least to some degree. All doubts completely leave his head as a satisfied grin curls on his lips. 

“You wear these just for me, baby?” He murmurs into your ear as he nips at your earlobe, fingers already dancing along the sides of your panties. 

You give him another nod and a breathy little sound that he assumes, if you were able to form the words, would be a confirmation. He pushes the material aside, running a finger through your folds. Shit, you're so fucking wet for him. He’s going to lose his mind. His finger swirls around your clit, eliciting moans and gasps from you. You’re already starting to squirm for him and he doesn’t let up, still swirling little circles with the pad of his finger. 

“J-Jean,” you moan out his name and cling to him, holding his head tightly to your chest. 

“‘M right here, baby, I got you. You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” 

“Y-yes, yes, yes, fuck!” He feels your legs shaking on him, still moving his hand. God, he missed seeing you like this. 

“That’s it, that’s my girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl, did so well for me. ” He purrs into your skin, pressing kisses to your neck, giving you a second to catch your breath.

Turns out you don’t even want a breather, your hands moving desperately to his lap, frantically trying to undo his buttons, slipping your hand in and wrapping around his cock. 

“Fuck,” Jean groans under his breath, lifting his hips with you still on his lap, so he can shove his pants down enough for you pull him all the way out.

Your hand pumps him, smearing the precum over his flushed tip, causing him to suck in a sharp breath. You keep working him, your hands are always so soft, twisting your wrist a bit on the way up, squeezing the tip just a little. He loves the way he looks in your hands, your smaller ones making him look even bigger. His eyes catch a little glimmer, and he groans again when he sees you jerking him with your bracelet bouncing on your wrist with your movements. All he can think about is that you’re his, you're his, you're his. That one little accessory tells the whole world. Maybe he’ll replace it with a ring. He leans forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck, taking a shaky breath.

“Shit, you’re makin’ me feel so good, but I don’t… fuck, I don’t want to cum like this.” He pulls back to look in your eyes, seeing nothing but how good you want to make him feel and he doesn’t know what he did to deserve you. 

He pulls your panties to the side again, lifting you up, lining himself up with your entrance and pulls you down onto him. Jean thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. He has never felt anything better than you wrapped around him like this. You both let out audible moans, as you adjust to him. Without any warning, you start bouncing on him. His eyes roll back as he drops his head to the back of the couch. Your bounces are slow, deliberate, he’s sure he’s in heaven.

“You feel so good. Love how full you make me feel.” You murmur, breathy, into his ear, bracing yourself on his shoulders. 

As much as he’d love to just sit here and bask in you riding him, he’s going to cum way too soon if he lets you keep going like this, especially if you keep using that mouth of yours to whisper everything he’s been wanting to hear for the past three months in his ear. He moves his hands back to your ass, grabbing handfuls of you, doing the work for you for another second or two before he wraps his arm around your waist he starts fucking up into you. 

“Missed my pussy so much, baby. She’s mine, yeah? That’s what this means doesn’t it?” He growls, taking your wrist, adorned with your bracelet, showing it to you. “That’s why you never took it off? Been mine this whole time haven’t you?”

Your walls squeeze him, as you hear his words, and he groans again. “All yours, Jean.. al-always yours.”

In all his desperation to get close to you, to get inside of you, he didn’t think your panties would cause a problem, but at this point they’re in his way, they won’t stay to one side. He moves his hand, gripping the flimsy garment, and pulls hard, tearing them.

“Jean!” You protest, looking down at where the two of you are connected.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” He mutters before he picks up his pace, finally able to fuck you the way he wants, slamming his hips up into you. 

You don’t seem to care so much anymore, as your eyes roll back, and you let out a cry. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, moving to bury your face in his neck. And for Jean, right now, that just won’t do, he wants to see you, wants to see your face contorted in pleasure. He brings his hand to the back of your neck, tugging your hair so you’re looking at him. 

“Look at me, baby, wanna see you.” Shit, he already feels close. Not having you for all these months, and finally getting you, getting to see in your face how good he’s making you feel and how much you missed him too. He didn’t think he was going to last long anyway. He brings his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily, all tongues and teeth. 

“Ba-baby, ‘m close,” you whine, eyes glazed over, face scrunched up just the way he likes. 

“Me too, cum with me, yeah?” His hand snakes between you, finding your clit, rubbing circles on it with his thumb.

He feels you clenching around him, cunt pulsing and god he missed this feeling, missed feeling you come apart just for him. You say his name again and again like a prayer and he just can’t hold back anymore. 

“Fuck, baby, I’m shit–” He tries to warn you so you can get off of him, but you just stay put, slamming down on him again and again. He cums hard, painting your insides white. 

Still holding onto you tightly, one hand on your neck and the other around your waist, you both just stay locked in an embrace, panting. Each of your heads are resting on the others shoulders, Jean presses little kisses there while he catches his breath. 

“God, I really did miss you so much.” He whispers into your skin. “And not just this, all of it. I missed all of you.”

“I know, I missed you too. I wanted to call you or text you, or anything. I just…didn’t think you wanted to talk to me.” Your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck and he just savors the moment. 

Neither one of you moves, you just sit there holding each other. You haven’t even gotten off of him yet, his cock going soft inside you, feeling his cum leak out onto his lap, but he couldn’t care less. He just runs his fingertips up and down your back tenderly. 

“You really scared me, you know that?” Jean says when he finally feels like breaking the silence.

You lift your head, giving him a puzzled look. “What do you mean? How did I scare you?”

Jean sighs, it sounds stupid now, in hindsight, thinking that you had moved on. “I thought you were dating that Eren guy. You posted a picture with him and I kind of freaked out.”

It seems like it takes a second for his words to register, because you’re quiet for a moment before you burst into a full fit of laughter. Jean just gives you a pointed look. He doesn’t see what’s so funny about that. You’re laughing so hard you practically roll off of him, landing on your side on the couch, your legs still draped over him. He follows suit, cuddling you when he gets onto his side. 

“What’s so funny?”

You finally stop laughing long enough to answer him. “Eren? EW.” you manage to get out before you start giggling again. “He’s like a brother to me, we grew up together. I haven’t seen him before that post since he left for school. You really thought I was dating Eren??” 

Jean’s cheeks flush, a little pout forming on his face. “What was I supposed to think? He was way too close to you in that picture.”

Your laughter subsides, and you brush some hair out of his face, giving him a soft smile. “He just took me out for the day because I was so sad about you. I felt like I’d made a big mistake, and he just wanted to get my mind off of it for a little while. Besides, even if he wasn’t like a brother, he’s been in love with the same girl from middle school since he was like, twelve years old.”

You look like you have more to say but you’re hesitating. Clearly feeling a little nervous, he just nudges you gently, wanting you to continue.

You take a deep breath before going on, “I am sorry.. I shouldn’t have broken up with you, and for such a stupid reason.”

“What was the reason, exactly?” He asks, he never actually got the full story.

“I just… I liked you too much, things were going too well. I guess I kind of panicked, wondering when the other shoe was going to drop.”

Jean just stares at you, of all the reasons he thought it was, he didn’t think it was this.

“So… you broke up with me, because things were going too well?”

“It sounds stupid when you say it like that!” You bury your face into his chest, hiding your blush. “I said I was sorry.”

“What if there’s no other shoe? What if we’re just good together? Did you think about that?” He asks, no malice or hurt in his voice, just genuine curiosity. He presses a little kiss to the top of your head, trying to soothe you.

“There’s always another shoe.” You mutter, not bothering to lift your head up.

Jean sighs, taking your chin in his hand, pulling you up so that you’re eye to eye with him. “Baby, I promise, I will do everything in my power to ensure that there is no other shoe, okay? You have a problem, just talk to me. Let me be there for you, let me try and make things better. I’m not saying everything will be perfect all the time, but just know I’ll try my damndest for you.” He presses a kiss to your lips, sealing his promise. 

“Yeah.. okay,” you finally give him another smile, and he kisses you again, unable to resist. “So, can I be your girlfriend again?”

“As long as you promise not to break up with me for such a stupid reason ever again.” He smiles at you again, pressing another kiss to your forehead before pulling you back into his chest.

“Promise,” you mumble as you nuzzle into him.

Jean’s happier than he’s been in months, with you in his arms, right back where you belong.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes and Reblogs are always appreciated!💖