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total-dxmure · 11 months

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✦ MARLEY AND ME →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER THREE

pairing: modern!ellie williams x single mom!reader

summary: you’re a single mom just doing the best that she can to make ends meet. ellie can’t help but think that you're the kindest, most beautiful girl that she’s ever met. compared to taking care a little girl that's in her terrible twos, coming to terms with the fact that you’re a lesbian is a walk in the park. awkward first encounters, ellie’s broken gay-dar, and her overwhelming urge to take care of the care-giver. . . the road to domesticity is a long one, but it’s well worth the pining that it takes to get there.

warnings: THERE IS SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER MDNI!!! fingering (r receiving), exhibitionism if you squint, eventual substance use, no use of y/n (you have nicknames/petnames), the reader is marley’s biological mother, talk of coming to terms with ones sexuality, mention of a shitty baby daddy ( though there is no co-parenting between them), ellie is a total girl mom, lots and lots of fluff, ellie is an anxious dork in this fic, reader is broke but happy, ellie takes pride in being a provider, this is going to be a multi-part fic, ellie is an absolute simp for the reader since chapter one and will remain her #1 fan.

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The female sat in a heap on the floor, staring intently into the oven. It was almost as though she was willing the cake to rise, trying as hard as she could to convince the damn thing to do what it was supposed to do. She’d already checked the recipe numerous times, trying to see where she might have messed up. Ellie regretted not just doing what Jesse had told her to do. Bringing you some flowers would be better than showing up on your doorstep with an inedible dessert.

“It’s not fucking rising.” She cursed to herself, grabbing a clump of her hair and giving it a sharp tug.

Dirty dishes littered her kitchen counters, batter still splattered on one of her cabinets from the earlier electric mixer mishap. The woman could have easily picked up a store bought cake when she was at the grocery store getting the stupid ingredients, but she had been dumb enough to think that something homemade would taste better. It would seem that the college student enjoyed making her life harder, because on top of what seemed like an impossible workload from her professors, she’d run straight home from her classes, hell bent on making the best strawberry shortcake you and Marley had ever tasted. She’d seen the strawberries in your shopping cart when she had run into you at the grocery store earlier and thought it would be perfect. Only. . . the rubbery cake that didn’t appear to be getting any fluffier was far from perfect.

She’d done everything that the recipe had called for. You would think that doing something as easy as baking a sponge cake would be a walk in the park for someone that was majoring in astrophysics.

The cherry on top was the fact that she only had an hour to get ready before she’d have to leave her house. Which meant that she didn’t have enough time to make another stupid dessert. She turned off her oven with a defeated grunt, angrily stomping over to her fridge to see if she had anything.

It was empty, just like she knew it would be. She doubted that you would appreciate it if she brought over a frozen vegetarian lasagna, but that was all that she had left. Ellie had run out of options.

The phone rang three times before the man on the other end picked up.

“Whatcha want, girl?” Joel’s southern twang sounded on the other line.

Her shoulders instinctively slouched, her rapid heart rate calming ever so slightly.

“Joel. . . do you know how to make a sponge cake?” She asked, opening up a cabinet so that she could start grabbing for the ingredients that she had already put away.

“A sponge cake?” He questioned. She could hear rustling on the other end, then the familiar sound of his reading glasses being placed down onto a flat surface.

“I’m having dinner with a friend, and I wanted to bring dessert.” She was mumbling now, she knew that. Ellie could just imagine the aging man squinting his eyes, pressing the phone harder up against his ear so that he could hear her better.

“Jesse doesn’t care if you bake him a damn cake or not.”

She should have been offended that he thought that her only friend was Jesse. . . but he wasn’t exactly wrong about that. She huffed, rolling her eyes before leaning her hip up against the counter.

“It’s not for Jesse. I’m hanging out with someone else.” She didn’t feel like telling him the entire story of how she had met you, nor did she think that he was ready to hear about Marley.

“Uh- alright. You got a pen, kiddo?”

The woman’s heart was pounding as she climbed the steps up to the small house. She’d driven through the neighborhood quite a lot over the last four years, but would rather die than admit to you that her plug just so happened to live just a few houses down. The bag felt heavy in her hand, embarrassment weighing heavy on her mind as she thought about the fact that she’d have to assemble the fruit and whipped cream after dinner, seeing as the damn cake was still cooling. If there was one thing she could count on Joel to get right every time, it was cooking something delicious. She’d seen the man make a drool worthy meal out of little more than a can of Chef Boyardee, a few onions and fresh parmesan.

Ellie wasn’t Joel though, and there was a good chance that you’d bite into an eggshell. She’d tried her best to fish them out of the batter, but she was positive that she missed a few. She debated just leaving the dessert in her car.

The woman’s feet faltered on the porch, the old wood creaking underneath her. The home was small, but it was obvious that you’d tried to make it nice. Freshly planted flowers were in a few pots right by the screen door. Ellie could imagine Marley’s dirty little palms stuck elbow deep into the pots, wanting nothing more than to help you. Her lips twitched upwards into a smile before she could even help it, because she could hear your voice behind that door.

“Marley Mae! Get your cute little booty over here!” A loud little squeal echoed around the house, followed by a giggle that would even make a weathered soldier’s heart melt.

The woman looked over her outfit one last time, then brushed her free hand over her lips to make sure she hadn’t nervously chewed all of the chapstick off of them. She was wearing the A-Ha band shirt that Jesse had given her last Christmas, and had tucked it into a pair of high waisted trousers. It was stylish without making her look like a try-hard. She held the screen door open with the heel of her boot so that she could knock on the brightly painted door.

Red. It was a nice color too.

You cursed under your breath as you heard the knock, your heart racing as you realized that your daughter was running around the living room with the shirt that you had neatly laid out to wear for tonight. Your nervous brain malfunctioned though- it must have- because you called out to her.

“It’s open!” You wished that you could suck the words right back into your mouth, because there you were, standing right in front of the opening door, in nothing but a lacy blue bra.

She was looking down at the small step up, a few strands of auburn hair falling into her face. She was wearing a pair of high waisted mens dress pants, and the sleeves of her band shirt was cuffed at the sleeves, which showed off her toned arms.

If your brain was malfunctioning before. . . now it has completely shut down.

Marley didn’t seem to care about the visitor. The little girl continued to run around, your freshly washed off-the shoulder top wrinkled in her hands as she ran in circles around the living room. She wasn’t quite sure what she was doing, so you couldn’t be angry. You’d reacted so strongly to her pulling the shirt off of the bed, which was your mistake. She thought it was funny when you chased her, and so you were the idiot for acting on your panicked impulses.

So here you were, completely topless and standing directly in front of Ellie, who still hadn’t noticed your partial nakedness seeing as she was setting the bag she was holding down by the front door. Was she too nervous to look at you? Or. . . was she usually this clueless about her surroundings?

“I was kinda scared that I’d driven to the wrong house-” Her eyes fell on the toddler running around with a shirt in her hands first, her eyebrows knitting in confusion. You could see her lips pull up into a mischievous smile, the understanding that the little girl was doing something that she wasn’t supposed to finally dawning on her.

Then she looked up at you, that same smile still pulling up at her lips and the corners of her bright green eyes.

But then she nearly died.

Both physically and mentally.

“Holy shi-” She stumbled back, throwing her arm behind her so that she could give you some privacy.

Because you were standing in front of her. In nothing but jeans and a bra. . .

And even calling that thing a bra was being too kind. The damned thing was merely pretty wire, polkadot mesh, and some lace. Ellie didn’t have to lay in bed and imagine what your breasts looked like. Not anymore. She’d gotten a full view of them along with your perfectly perky nipples, which was probably due to the box-fan you had turned on in the living room.

Ellie missed the panicked look on your face. She missed whatever words rushed past your lips, because she was too busy staring at your chest. You lurched forwards for her, and all the poor woman could do was stare at the way they bounced.

“Ellie, watch your arm!” You were stumbling forward, trying to yank her away from the old screen door.

You’d fallen victim to the loose metal grate too many times to count. The worst you’d gotten were a few cuts on your fingers that burned like a bitch. The fleshy part of Ellie’s forearm was headed straight for it though.

Ellie stumbled onto the porch, the terrible burning sensation in her arm not even registering.

“I-I’m so sorry,” She rasped out, eyes wide. Her cheeks were bright red all the way up to her ears.

Blood was dripping down to her fingers and splattering on the wooden deck, but she couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in her ears. Her whole body felt feverish, so the fresh blood went completely unnoticed.

You were covering up your chest with one hand as you hurried out onto the porch after her, using your free arm to grab her and haul her blabbering form inside.

“I-I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to. . . I think you have the wrong idea about me. Honest, I was going to tell you eventually, but I-” Ellie wasn’t straight, and it would be unfair of her to ogle at you under false pretenses.

It was hard to say anything though when you were rushing her into the kitchen. Ellie could barely keep up with you, stumbling a bit. Your eyes were wide for some reason. Maybe you were understanding where all of this was going. Maybe you were religiously straight, and she’d just ruined any possibility of a friendship. Had you noticed her staring? Holy fuck, of course you did.

“I’m a lesbian-” “You’re bleeding all over the place!”

You both went silent, staring at each other with wide eyes. Ellie’s gaze on your face faltered, and slowly she looked down at her arm, where you were currently keeping a firm grip. Your knuckles were practically white you were holding her so tightly. The athletic woman could understand why now. She wasn’t just bleeding but bleeding.

She was used to injuring herself. Ellie and Joel were outdoorsy people. She grew up learning to fish, hunt, and live off of the land. Which meant she had fallen out of a million trees, stabbed herself a thousand times, and has had more near death experiences than she’d care to admit. Her survival training should kick in. . . but it wasn’t.

Because your boobs were still directly in her face.

Honestly, there was no other way she’d rather die. It would take her a few hours to bleed to death from a cut like this, even if she had sliced clean through a vein. Maybe, if she were lucky, you’d feel bad for her and take off the pants too. She wondered for a second whether you were wearing a matching pair of panties.

‘Please God- if you exist- I hope she is wearing matching panties. I’ll make up for every rotten thing I’ve ever done if I could just. . .’

“Hospital.” You croaked, your lips going pale.

Ellie finally noticed the vein in your throat pounding away. Your eyes were beginning to well up with tears too. The woman swallowed thickly and painfully tore her attention off of your chest.

“I’m okay. I’m not in any pain. Let me see if I can wrap it up and stop the bleeding. I’ll drive myself to the hospital if I need to.” Her voice was steady. Her profusely bleeding wound was the only thing she felt certain and safe about in this situation.

“Don’t be stupid, Ellie,” You shook your head quickly, disappearing out of the kitchen. “I’m taking Marley to my mom’s house! Give me two minutes!” You sounded like you were on the opposite side of the house.

The front door opened and closed before Ellie could protest. All she could do was stand over the sink, her shaky hand reaching for paper towels in an attempt to wipe up what looked to be a murder scene on the tiled floor. She was bleeding all in your sink too, the smell of iron thick in the air. The blood wasn’t clotting, and it looked nowhere close to stopping. She twisted her forearm around, wincing when she finally noticed the cut. It was clean- deep. If you had the supplies at home, she could just stitch herself up here. . . but Ellie had a feeling that she’d terrify you if she tried that.

So. . . the hospital was the only choice.

You’d tossed a shirt over your head so quickly that you hadn’t even seen what it was. Your red converse slapped against the pavement as you ran across the street, Marley bouncing on your hip, babbling excitedly in your ear. You silently thanked the heavens that your daughter was a habitually happy baby and wasn’t feeding off of your anxiety.

You were nearly in tears by the time that you made it to your mother’s house. She answered the door almost immediately, her hair held up with chopsticks atop her head. She smiled sweetly at Marley, who held her arms open for her grandmother.

“What on earth is going on, baby-” She paused as she noticed the blood on your hands. “W-What. . .”

You shook your head, already stepping off of the porch. “I-It’s not mine. My friend accidentally sliced her arm open. I have to take her to the hospital. Can you watch Marley for me? Just until I get home.”

You knew your mother would agree. You were already running down the street, her hurried “of course” getting lost in the wind that breezed by your ears. Your hair was a mess, your cheeks felt hot, and you knew that you were crying.

Because of course you were.

Tonight was ruined, and it was all your fault. The pot roast that you had put on early this morning tasted perfect, the house was spotless, and Marley had actually gone down today for her two o’clock nap. This dinner had been terribly important to you. It wasn’t until you were stumbling up the steps of your own porch that you finally realized how much weight you’d put on this stupid little get together.

Ellie might not even be attracted to you. You could be reading the situation all wrong, but you were hoping that you could have a chance at love. Didn’t you deserve it? You tried and you tried for everyone else aside from yourself, and this was the first time you’d done something selfish in years.

The girl of your dreams was standing in your kitchen, practically gushing blood in your stainless steel sink, and you’d blown your chance at happiness. Your version of perfect was never going to be enough for anyone. Because you were broke with little to no education. . . and a child that couldn’t even spell her own name yet.

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes as you rounded the corner.

“Remind me to fix that door the next time I’m here.” Ellie wasn’t looking at you, which you were thankful for. She was too busy holding a wad of paper towels against the wound.

Your heart squeezed uncomfortably in your chest.

Next time. There was going to be a “next time”.

Ellie followed your gentle guidance out to your car, begrudgingly getting in the passenger seat. She felt guilty that you had to drive her all the way into town. That. . . and the fact that she probably traumatized your child, what with all the blood. You fumbled with the radio, trying to find a station that she might like.

“I like this song.” Ellie said calmly, and what do you know. . . your hand dropped back into your lap.

The car plummeted into silence, Depeche Mode playing softly over the speakers as she watched the sun finally drop behind the horizon, bathing the two of you in a blue twilight glow. Ellie was very familiar with Jackson.

It would be at least twenty minutes until you made it to the nearest Urgent Care. So she leaned back in the seat and tightened her grip on her arm.

“Can I see you again after this? Or. . . I understand if what I said earlier makes you uncomfortable.” Your silence was making her feel on edge.

Ellie had single handedly ruined dinner. She had a talent for ruining things, actually. Ellie Williams was the kind of person that should live away from other people. All she needed was a backpack and a hunting knife, and she’d feel safe. Safer than she would in a neighborhood full of people, really. Wild animals, deadly or not, were predictable. Bears and wolves attack, so you’ve gotta intimidate them. If all else fails, aim for the head.

Ellie couldn’t read you, and that scared her. Terrified her actually, because for some reason she was certain that being turned down by you would break her significantly more than any other rejection ever had. It would be the kind of pain that kept you in bed for days, overthinking every decision that had gotten you to that point. She didn’t want to be old and alone, thinking about the girl that she’d liked in her youth. It pained Ellie to even think about forgetting the exact color of your eyes, or the natural softness that your voice possessed.

Ellie didn’t know you well enough to be in love with you yet. . . but give her a few weeks, and she knew that she’d be a goner.

It wasn’t that you were the only person available. You weren’t in her friend group, so dating you wasn’t just what should be the natural progression of things. This wasn’t a small campus crush doomed to fail. Ellie hadn’t stopped thinking about you ever since you’d first walked into Tommy’s restaurant.

“Do you think I’m homophobic or something?” You spoke up, shooting her a small smile from where you sat.

“I mean. . . we live in Wyoming.” Ellie trailed off, but her lips turned up as you began to laugh.

“Yeah, you do have a point there.” Your shoulders began to slouch, an audible sigh of relief escaping you. “I was scared you wouldn’t want to see me again after this.” You admitted.

Ellie didn’t strike you as the type of person that liked to feel vulnerable, so you owed her some embarrassing truths. Even if it ended up mortifying you.

“I’ve had at least ten concussions in my life. Fifteen stitches is child's play.” She used the hand that wasn’t currently leaking blood to wave your worry off, sinking deeper into the old seat of your car. “Uh-” She sat up quickly, turning her head to look at the road that you’d just driven past.

“I think we should have made that turn-” “I’m a lesbian.”

Ellie’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, her neck nearly popping with the force that she used to look at your face. You’d sucked your bottom lip in between your teeth nervously, but your eyes were locked on the road.

“I know a shortcut. Relax, I’m not kidnapping you.” You added, turning onto a dirt road that she’d never seen before.

The hand that you had resting on your thigh was beginning to shake. You balled it into a tight fist, hoping she hadn’t noticed. That was the first time you’d ever said it outloud. Ellie was the first person you’d ever told about your sexuality, and you felt. . . liberated. And scared shitless.

“I’m not exactly too focused on the creepy backroads right now.” She mumbled, still staring at you.

The buttons on your dashboard were casting all sorts of shadows on your lovely face. Your eyelashes were so thick, and she was suddenly very aware of the fact that you’d put on makeup for her.

And oh god.

She really didn’t have a gaydar, because holy shit this was a date. She should have listened to Jesse and gotten you flowers. She should have put more effort into her appearance- slapped some clear mascara on at the very least.

If she wasn’t bleeding all over the white dish towel that you had wrapped around her arm, then she would have told you to put your car in park. The urge to kiss you was hurting her more than the gaping wound did. She bounced her leg, trying to distract herself from the aching need that was gnawing at the pit of her stomach.

“I mean. . . I’ve never been with a woman before, but all I know is that I’ve never liked guys. Not even a little bit.” You were spilling your guts now, and you couldn’t even stop it.

You’d been waiting to tell someone all of this since middle school. You were practically shaking like a leaf. It felt good to say all of it though, even if you were setting yourself up to get hurt.

Ellie thought back to what Jesse had said about lesbians having children. Never once had Ellie felt the need to force herself to sleep with a man to appear normal. Instead she just. . . hadn’t shown any interest in anyone. She was sure that Joel thought that she was asexual when she was growing up.

You. . . you had done something that had felt wrong to you, just so that others wouldn’t see you differently. Ellie wasn’t the type to get emotional, but she found her eyes getting a bit misty. Her small nose wrinkled a bit as she tried to fight the feeling.

“You’ve never even kissed a woman?” Ellie asked, finally recognizing the road that they were on. They were close to the emergency room. Too close, actually. She was hoping for a few more moments alone with you.

“No.” You were mortified to admit it, but you needed to.

You pulled into the parking lot and threw the car into park. That was enough embarrassment for one day. The sooner you could get her seen by a doctor, the sooner you could silently begin to come up with a plan to save tonight.

“How ‘bout I kiss you,” Her warm breath was on your cheek. You let out a small gasp and turned your head, eyes widening as you realized that she was leaning over the armrest, her hand gripping the back of your seat. “And then you’ll know for sure. It’s just a test.”

If God existed, Ellie knew that her being gay wasn’t the reason she’d for sure be sent to hell. She’d physically hurt a lot of people. She’d been expelled from just about every school she’d ever been in. For a while there, she and Joel were moving state to state for what felt like every school semester. She was sharp tongued and knew how to really lash out at others. She had two very capable, very dangerous hands. . . and she hadn’t been afraid to use them.

And here she was, using your own inexperience as a way to kiss you. She was desperate though. No matter how fucked up this tactic was, she would never come to regret it. You could rip her heart straight out of her chest for all she cared.

Ellie wanted you in every conceivable way.

She’d be your best friend if that was the only thing you needed from her. She’d fuck you every day of the week until you finally got bored of her and called her away. She’d wake up early just to make those pancakes your daughter loved in the mornings. . . All you had to do was say the word.

She was yours.

“What if,” Ellie could feel your breath fan over her lips. Her eyes fluttered, but she somehow managed to keep them open. “What if you don’t like it?”

“I will.” Ellie nodded gently, wishing she had two good hands to hold you with.

You were the one to press your lips to hers. You knew what you were doing, which partially shattered her heart into a thousand tiny pieces. Ellie wanted to be selfish with you. She wanted to be your first everything. She silently cursed whoever had come before her, but her brain shut off completely when she felt your hand move up to cup her cheek. The ear ringing from earlier resumed in full force the second your lips began moving against hers, your warm tongue brushing against her lower lip. Her grip on the back of your seat loosened, and instead she moved it to the base of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer to her.

She was in control of herself. She had kept the fact that the two of you were in a very public parking lot in mind.

Until the second you sighed into her open mouth. Game over. She was ruined.

Utterly ruined.

Her bloody hand reached over and yanked the key out of the ignition, fumbling to place it on the center console before she started pulling you over arm rest. She needed the weight of you on her lap. She needed pressure- sensation. She needed. She needed. She needed.

“How tinted are your windows?” She mumbled against your lips, her strong hands gripping your thighs so that she could help you straddle her.

You’d never actually been turned on by any of your sexual partners in the past. You usually just grinned and beared it, then laid awake at night wondering why on earth you weren’t like other girls.

All the two of you had done was make out, and your legs were already quivering. You were dripping wet, and was far too distracted by Ellie’s very pink, very kissed lips to think about the fact that you were wearing jeans.

“T-They’re legal, if that’s what you’re asking.” You could barely think, your hands already tangling back into Ellie’s hair.

She didn’t have time to whine out a complaint, because you were so pliant in her hands. You were this weak little mewling thing on top of her, and all she could do was grip onto you. Had either of you actually known pleasure before? Because Ellie was positive she’d never felt anything like this. She wasn’t even being touched, but she was certain that she could climax just like this.

Her hands gripped your waist, then brushed up your stomach. She didn’t ask for permission, which she’d apologize relentlessly for later. You weren’t stopping her though.

If anything, you were the one that had started the touching. You were currently stretching out the neck of her t-shirt, one hand gripping her chin and the other one spread out on her back, playing with the straps of her sports bra. You gasped into her mouth again as Ellie’s hand finally made contact with your breast. She remembered the way you looked in that bra earlier. Remembered how your tits had bounced- looked like they were practically going to burst over the thin bit of fabric-

“Oh, fuck.” Ellie cursed, hips moving upwards before she could calm herself.

“Doctor-” Your voice came out in a desperate little whine, and Ellie’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, her hips lifting up against yours again, the friction practically causing her to jump straight out of her skin.

“I’m- I’m not bleeding as bad anymore. Please. Please.” Ellie was pushing your bra up and over your breasts, lifting your shirt up with her bloody hand just so that she could look.

She’d fuck you right there in the back of the hospital parking lot. She’d never wanted anyone this badly before. This was just as new to her as it was for you. This felt. . . this all felt different.

Because you were touching her back. You weren’t some straight girl looking to turn a boy on by telling him that you’d been with a lesbian before.

You were gay, and you were interested in her. Ellie felt like she had died and gone to heaven, because this was everything that she’d ever wanted. . . minus the wound.

It was her begging that had you leaning back on your calves, untucking her shirt so roughly that she questioned whether or not the two of you would have to fight for dominance. She tossed her shirt into the drivers side seat, smiling when your lips were back on hers the second she was topless.

Your hands were cold when you pushed them underneath the tight fabric of her sports bra. You took advantage of that, feeling her nipples hardening against your palms. Her muscles tightened in her shoulders as you pinched them between your pointer and middle fingers, gripping the small breasts a little tighter, wanting to feel the weight of them.

She moaned against your lips, eyes clenching shut so hard that fireworks exploded behind her lids.

It was too late now.

Ellie was on a mission to make you cum.

She felt guilty that the two of you hadn’t even been on a first official date yet, and here she was, planning to finger fuck you in a parking lot- but could anyone really blame her?

“I’m gonna fuck you,” Ellie pulled away from your lips, instantly recognizing that this wasn’t her asking for consent. She flinched, shaking her head gently. “Is that okay?” She rephrased it, moving a hand down to the waistband of your jeans. She gave it a gentle tug, letting you know that she was serious. She couldn’t stop herself.

“Y-Your arm, Ellie.” You moved to grab her injured forearm, but she gripped your wrist before you could.

“Let’s say I stop now. Even if we did that, I won’t get seen for another hour by a doctor. I’m going to sit there and think about this,” She cupped your sex in her hand, the tips of her fingers brushing over your clothed entrance. “The entire time. I’ll stop if you climb out, but if we stay in here any longer I’m not going to be able to control myself.”

You bit your bottom lip again, your eyes narrowing in concern. Ellie wasn’t bleeding as badly as she was before, but she for sure needed a few stitches. She didn’t appear to be in any pain though. If anything, she seemed more focused on you. You didn’t want to kill the moment, but shouldn’t you-

Ellie began fidgeting with the top button on your jeans, and that was all it took. You wordlessly climbed into the backseat, smiling widely as you heard her scrambling to follow you.

You thanked all that was holy that you’d taken Marley’s car seat out earlier that morning to give to your mother since she was watching her tomorrow. You had the entire backseat, and despite the fact that the two of you were still out in the open, you felt a little more hidden now that the two of you were ducked down.

Ellie was already taking full advantage of the added bit of privacy, the hem of your shirt already up to your neck. She was pushing your bra back up and over your tits, eager to really look at you.

She wasn’t sure what this meant for either of you, and she didn’t feel like ruining the moment by complicating anything. Ellie liked you, and she was willing to wait until you felt the same about her too-

Was she being overly self conscious and stupid right now? Wasn’t this. . . wasn’t this proof enough of how you felt about her? You’d been the one to take the reins during this entire friendship. You’d asked for her number and invited her over for dinner. All Ellie had done was kiss you, only after you let her know that you were interested.

Ellie moved her lips from your mouth down your neck, pushing her hands under your hips so that she could move down your chest. She paused though, looking up at you worriedly.

“Am I going to hurt you if I suck on them?” She wasn’t sure how nursing works. She didn’t exactly have an overflow of women in her life to tell her about those sorts of things.

You laughed, shaking your head quickly. You were panting softly, your cheeks deliciously flushed. “No, but I can still produce milk, so be caref-”

“Okay, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.” Ellie had to brace herself, green eyes fully zoned into your beautiful, full breasts. So. . . if she sucked hard enough-

“Is this when you tell me that you have a mommy kink?” You asked playfully, starting to sit up.

“I didn’t,” She assured you, shooting you a small smile. “Until now. Lay back down.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, but you practically swallowed the noise when she finally closed her lips around your nipple, her hands making quick work of your jeans. They were unbuttoned and pushed down off of your hips before you could say anything. She removed her mouth from your breasts long enough to look at your panties.

And if god was real, they had answered her wish.

Because holy fuck you matched. Of course you did. She bit onto her lower lip hard, closing her eyes for a second so that she didn’t rip them right off of you. They were cute, and she wanted to see you in them again. Ellie wasn’t very good at being gentle in any aspect of her life.

Especially with you, it would seem.

She wanted to be mean to you all of a sudden. Leave bruises and marks to be explored later. She wanted to bite into your soft flesh and see just how easy it would be to leave hickies, but she couldn’t.

So she needed to breathe.

She leaned back up, pressing her lips against yours. She brushed her fingers against your thigh at first, letting you get used to the idea of her touching you. She desperately wanted to become more than acquainted with your cunt, but she needed to be gentle with you. You wrapped your arms around her tightly, your bare chest pressing against her clothed breasts. She wished she was naked. God, she regretted not being able to do this in bed. She’d gladly bleed to death if it meant that she could take her time with you.

She wanted to press every inch of her body against yours, but now wasn’t the time for that.

Her fingers grazed over your folds, and if her eyes weren’t closed then she was sure that they would have bulged straight out of her skull.

You were dripping.

Pride and possessiveness threatened to crush her ribs as she gathered up your slick, using it to rub a lazy circle around your clit. You jerked against her, but she didn’t let you pull your lips off of hers. She swallowed the strangled moan, eyes fluttering open briefly so that she could look at you.

You were precious.

She continued to draw circles, knowing that it was what she liked personally. She switched up the pace though, moving her arm to get better leverage. This time you were able to pull away from her, letting out a cry, your eyes opening so that you could look at Ellie’s face.

She was beautiful. Even with that predatorial look on her face, you couldn’t ignore the freckles and flushed cheeks. There was something so oppositional about her- how dominant but unassuming she looked. Here she was, moving you around like you weighed no more than a doll.

And then she sunk two of her fingers inside of you. The stretch was glorious, but it was the look on her face that had your walls fluttering around her. Pink lips parted to reveal her clenched teeth. Like she was damn near close to biting right into you. She was holding herself back fucking you like this. You weren’t sure what that meant, but your eyes were rolling to the back of your head the more you thought about it.

And then she brushed her thumb against your clit, her fingers nearly bruising your cervix as she continued to thrust them into you.

Your name escaped her lips then. She said it like a prayer. Like it was a promise.

Ellie curled her fingers inside of you, pressing against a spot that your much smaller hands couldn’t reach.

“Oh, fuck!” Your eyes were tearing up, hands fumbling around for anything to grip. You needed to hold something in order to ground yourself, because you were trying hard not to get the two of you arrested for indecent exposure.

Ellie was busy watching it all. She was sitting on her calves, greedily turning her gaze from your fucking gorgeous expressions to your glistening pussy, which was currently swallowing her fingers. Your walls were satiny soft, and she could feel them flutter around her as she continued hitting the same spot that got such a loud reaction from you earlier.

You were quivering under her, hands moving from the carseat, up to your breasts, and then your hair. You yanked at your locks, the pleasure practically too much. Ellie was this beautiful, vicious thing on top of you. It was obvious that she wanted to wrench out every bit of pleasure from you, even if you said it was too much. Even if you told her to stop. There was a glint in her eyes that told you she wouldn’t be able to. She was just as hungry for your release as you were.

“Grip onto me, baby.” She moved to lay back on top of you, adding a finger for extra measure.

Your hands were at her back immediately, fingernails digging into her freckled flesh. She pressed her face into your neck, enjoying your floral scent- moaning at the pain and the pleasure that was building in her own abdomen. She almost laughed- finding her own impending release comical.

Because there was no way she was about to prematurely cum because she was touching you, a girl that she was pretty much head over heels for. The tightening in her abdomen was familiar though, and all she could do was lamely moan your name against your throat.

“You’re not gonna hurt me. Hold me tighter.” She mumbled, her hand moving quicker and quicker, the sounds echoing around your car bordering on illegal.

You were the hottest thing on the entire planet. She was sure of it. Her hands shook as your nails dug in deeper, to the point that she was positive she was bleeding. She wanted a physical reminder of what happened tonight. Scars and all. Whatever she could take with her later on in life, especially if this was a one time thing.

She needed every physical and mental reminder that you were willing to give her. So Ellie moved her face so that she was looking at you, even when her own pleasure was building to the point where her own knees quivered, finding it hard to hold up her own weight.

She watched you unravel. Felt your cunt practically swallow her fingers as you tightened around them. Your back arched, eyes pinched closed as your cherubic lips parted in a silent scream.

And then Ellie followed right after you.

She leaned her head against your chest, hips jerking forward as she continued to work you through the waves of your own pleasure, trying not to get drowned by her own.

“D-Did you. . .” You breathlessly started to ask, your big doe eyes practically the size of saucers.

“I promise, t-this is the first time this has ever happened.” Ellie admitted, feeling a touch of shame.

You wanted to take a few minutes to calm your pounding heart, but the sight of the bloody towel on the floorboard had you clambering to sit up, moving your bra and shirt back into their rightful places. Ellie was still trying to catch her breath, the muscles in her shoulders still twitching from her own release. You opened up the car door after snatching up the keys, and for a second the auburn haired girl felt terrified.

She bit her lower lip, wiping her dripping fingers off on her pants before grabbing her shirt and climbing out of the car. Alright. . . so this was it, right? You knew you were a lesbian now, and she would be left in the dust. It wasn’t such a bad arrangement, really. She couldn’t even be mad.

Technically, if she really thought about it, you’d been just as much her first as she had been yours.

Her boots crunched against the gravel as she followed you into the hospital, her heart still pounding in her chest. She shrugged on the shirt as she walked, careful not to tug at the wound in any way.

Ellie’s forehead was beaded with sweat, and she nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.

She’d never gotten her heart broken by a gay girl before, and here it was. For some reason. . . she knew with certainty that this was going to hurt ten times worse than any of the other ones had.

But then the hand that wasn’t sliced open from elbow to wrist was being gripped.

Your fingers intertwined with hers.

“I’m sorry to break it to you babe, but you’re definitely a lesbian.” Ellie told you with a small smile, opening the door to the lobby for you.

“Oh, for sure.”

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why not to buy tlou2 remastered (please read)

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stark-raving-romantic · 7 months

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Since we all agree the Harry Potter is NOT it...here's a fun poll! These are just my picks but if you feel that I've neglected one, tell me and I'll make another poll, the winners can face off or something.

Please reblog to break containment!

Pride and Prejudice: It is a truth universally acknowledged , that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

Northanger Abbey: No one who had ever seen Catherine Morland in her infancy would have supposed her born to be a heroine.

Anne of Green Gables: Mrs. Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed with alders and ladies' eardrops and traversed by a brook that had its source away back in the woods of the old Cuthbert place; it was reputed to be an intricate, headlong brook in its earlier course through those woods, with dark secrets of pool and cascade; but by the time it reached Lynde's Hollow it was a quiet, well-conducted little stream, for not even a brook could run past Mrs. Rachel Lynde's door without due regard for decency and decorum; it probably was conscious that Mrs. Rachel was sitting at her window, keeping a sharp eye on everything that passed, from brooks and children up, and that if she noticed anything odd or out of place she would never rest until she had ferreted out the whys and wherefores thereof.

The Graveyard Book: There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a knife.

Romeo and Juliet:

"Two households, both alike in dignity

(In fair Verona, where we lay our scene),

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean."

Tuck Everlasting: The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning.

Fahrenheit 451: It was a pleasure to burn.

The Hobbit: In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.

A Christmas Carol: MARLEY WAS DEAD, to begin with.

The Secret Garden: When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle everybody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Far Out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral arm of the galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun.

Percy Jackson/The Lightning Thief: Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood

#pride and prejudice #northanger abbey #anne of green gables #the graveyard book #romeo and juliet #tuck everlasting #fahrenheit 451 #the hobbit #a christmas carol #the secret garden #the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy #percy jackson #the lightning thief #bookish things #polls #booklr #booklover #bookworm

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spiteless-xo · 10 months

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since we're being semi soft today.... do u have any fluffy thoughts on any of the marley boys ?

🙊 i'm answering this out of order from the requests in my inbox because i was HOPING someone would ask this after i posted the fluffy thoughts on the other boys -- so thank you for this 🥰

╰┈➤ fluffy headcanons pt. 2 - aot.

ft. colt, reiner, porco, zeke. cw. gender neutral reader

⋙ colt grice.

colt coaches falco's soccer team. he gets up early in the morning, dressed in a fleece half-zip with some gloves to set up pylons on the field for the kids' drills. he knows every kid by name and doesn't give any special attention to falco just because he's his brother -- parents love him. doesn't notice that some of the younger moms are hitting on him until you point it out, and then he gets awkward and flustered every time he sees them.

please just picture this man with little pink-flushed cheeks from the early september chill, blowing steam into his hands to keep them warm. he's calling out encouragements to all the kids as they run back and forth on the field -- always praise, because they're just kids and this is only for fun. he looks back at stands and just beams at you, excited that you were willing to get up so early just to watch him coach a bunch of little kids

idk why, but in my head, colt is not funny 💀 like he just doesn't understand comedic timing and isn't quite a quick or sharp as some of the other boys, but he appreciates every single one of your jokes!! he absolutely kills himself laughing every time you make a joke and he gets so excited about them that he'll tell other people your jokes (poorly 😭) but be laughing so hard they don't even understand him

ALWAYS kisses you and tells you that he loves you when he says goodbye. it's something that he does with falco already (that falco hates, btw), and one day it just slipped with you like "mwah! love you, bye!" and he goes beet red in embarrassment when he realizes, but you quickly kiss him back and now you do it every day 🥺

⋙ reiner braun.

this man only knows angst i think reiner really cherishes quiet moments of intimacy with you. like driving in the car with your hand laced in his, or having a nice meal at home that the two of you cooked together. it means a lot more to him if you show him that you love him through small gestures, instead of telling him.

he looooooooves head massages. he'll sit on the floor between your legs on the couch while the two of you watch tv so you can run your fingers through his hair and scratch his scalp. guy is vocal about it too, groaning and moaning when you rub his temples. 💀 and his knees go absolutely weak whenever you scratch his head

he has a really hard time falling asleep when he's alone 🥺 he gets really anxious at night sometimes, so if the two of you are apart he hardly gets any sleep at all -- but when you're in bed with him, this guy falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow. he feels so safe and comfortable with you that it helps ease some of his worries just knowing that you're beside him.

if you roll away from him in bed when the two of you are sleeping together, guaranteed in a sleepy haze, this man is grabbing at the bed trying to find you again. the second his hand rests on your body, he hooks his arm around your waist and pulls you tight against his chest -- sighing into your shoulder and sleepily kissing your neck. when you tell him about it the next day, he says he doesn't even remember doing it 😭

⋙ porco galliard.

porco is perpetually grumpy and bratty, except for when it comes to you. this man literally will talk to you in a baby voice when the two of you are alone together 💀 if you've ever seen those tiktoks where the girl calls her bf and makes him do the baby voice when he's with their friends -- that's porco.

like "babyyyy, i'm weawy hungee, can you make me a snack?" and he's looking up at you with big dumb eyes and a little pout while he rubs his belly. lowkey kinda cringe but the shift between his baby voice when he's alone with you and his normal voice when he's with the boys is just too funny 💀

also -- loves snacks. has a stash of chips and cookies and treats in the cupboard because he's always munching on something. if you're cooking dinner for him, he'll take a snack tax and munch on one of the foods you're prepping for dinner. you always tell him he's going to spoil his appetite, but he hasn't yet!

LOVES GOSSIP!! when the two of you are out with your friends and one of them says some out-of-pocket shit, you see porco in the corner of your eye looking at you like 👀 and you just KNOW he's going to talk about it on the car on the way home. in fact -- when the two of you go on road trips together, you don't even listen to any music. you just spend the entire time filling each other in with drama at work/school/etc. and gossiping about how other people's relationships aren't as good as yours 💀

⋙ zeke jaeger.

zeke is in his early thirties but he acts like an old man. whenever he gets up from sitting down he's pushing himself up with his hands and groaning. cracking his back with a loud moan. sighing heavily and collapsing into the couch like 💀

really into grilling? like spent a bunch of money on a fancy grill and now will take any excuse to have people over for a barbeque. he's got an apron that says something dumb like "women love me, fish fear me". you guys will be having a bbq and he's standing by the grill, watching the meat, with a pair of dark rayban sunglasses and a beer in his hand.

loves feeding you. like physically feeding you. like, if he wants you to try something that he cooked, he'll hold it in his fingers and get you to open his mouth for him 💀 he sets a little piece of cookie down on your tongue or between your teeth, and watch you expectantly as you chew it and tell him your opinion

loves building things, too. like you'll mention offhand that you think it'd be nice to have a garden and the next weekend he's coming home with planks of wood and building you raised garden beds 🥺 you don't even have to ask, he's just like "she wants a garden? ok, i'm on it!" and he immediately gets to work.

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milky-aeons · 3 months

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𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄

౨ৎ . . . he's always been cocky. It was that self-righteous bravado JEAN KIRSCHTEIN had which drew you towards him in the first place, like a moth to flame, too curious to look away. It was your own damn fault for getting burned.

warnings: swearing, sexual content, emotional dysregulation, reader is bad at feelings, Jean is no better, enemies to lovers, mdni, w.c 3.9k

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐗𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, at first.

A mindless curiosity. If you were being honest, what really piqued your initial interest in Jean Kirschtein was that ridiculous way he wore his hair.

At least, that was what you liked to tell yourself. On those nights where his golden eyes wouldn't leave your mind while you tossed and turned. Feeling your body heat, your skin stretching too taut across your bones, aching.

It had morphed into something more mind consuming, more tangible, at a speed and stealth you couldn't keep up with. You were always a woman who liked to have a decent reign on her emotions. In a world like this, where you had all been thrown into war and shattered beyond repair, it took only the strong to pick themselves back up and keep going. For so long, that had been your only objective. To keep moving. To never stop, to make it to the other side.

And here you were. The Rumbling had decimated over eighty-percent of the world's population, was the number plastered across every newspaper in Eldia. You had made it. There was no reason to push it all away now in favour of those survival instincts. And in its wake, all your thoughts left untouched, those feelings left unfelt, came roaring up to the surface with a one sure goal of swallowing you whole.

You were going insane.

The first time you had saw him since the War broke out, you almost did not recognise him. Standing there at a newspaper stall at such towering height. He rose above any other male around him.

When you were teenagers, you used to delight in the blush that raced across his cheeks when you teased him about his silly undercut, how it reminded you of the mane of a horse. He would splutter, like a wounded thing, and shout at you in a high, offended voice. You would laugh, and laugh, until his tanned skin coloured the same shade as the roses you collected in your basket.

Back then, you were just an ordinary towns girl, making fun of a trainee soldier because you thought them all the same. Stuck up, boorish, common things for a youth to entertain. You never knew about the frequent encounters you would soon find yourself with the soldier who graduated in the 104th's Top Ten. Who, despite everything he boasted, joined ranks with the Survey Corps and ventured where you could only hope to dream. Who would bump into you on quiet, serene nights as you returned from the flower fields, and offer you a suave smile.

"Never thought I'd see you again. You're still goin' round with those flowers in your basket, huh?"

"Indeed, I am. Would you like me to fashion you a flower crown? It would do well to hide that ridiculous haircut you seem to still wear."

The boat rocked against the lull of the waves. Your vase skidded across the wooden worktop, and you gasped, holding it in place.

You had become distracted, again.

Being one of the best florists within all three walls, and after taking up the family business as your father's prodigy, you were not surprised when a group of militants showed up at your studio a few days hence. Informing you of a campaign to visit the nation of Marley, and that your services would be of great use. Many ceremonies, they had said, a great many. We could use a florist's touch such as you.

And that was the day you saw him again. At the newspaper stand. His hair was longer, his eyes sharp and always cunning. From your workroom here on the boat destined for Marley, you were certain the smooth baritone of his voice had become one with the walls at this point, you seemed so fixated on it.

Insane. That man was driving you insane.

Huffing, you picked up a smooth satin ribbon from your sewing box and fashioned it around the bouquet you had taken longer than usual to put together. The first of many you had been asked to create for a cordial tea that was scheduled for when you first arrived there. Bittersweet, for truth, Calla Lily, to show justice, sharp pops of colour from Gladioli, for strength of their new nations. You sat back in your chair and regarded the arrangement.

It was the need to speak to the Commander about the debrief of events that sent you standing from your chair and meandering down the ships hallways in search of your company. It was not because the soft tongues of pollen from the lilies were just the same shade as his watchful, watchful eyes.

"Excuse me," You spoke after knocking on the door of the main cabin. Armin Arlert's cordial tone beckoned you inside.

All of the main players of Paradis' military were gathered around a small tea service; the Commander and his partner, Annie Leonhart, along with the strong presence of Reiner Braun, sitting at the round table. Armin smiled warmly at you when you introduced yourself into the room with a small bow.

He, was furiously fixing his long hair in the reflection of a wall mirror in the corner of your vision. You refused to look his way. Out of sheer stubbornness, you would not. To prove something to yourself, you would aptly ignore the soldier.

Yet you did notice how his comb suddenly froze in mid air when you entered the room.

"Miss [Name]," Armin greeted. "Can we help you with anything? Is everything to your liking?"

"Everything is just perfect, Commander." You said, smiling warmly. "I have come to tell you that I... have been within two minds about what flowers I should use for our opening ceremony. Would strength imply hostility to the already wounded Marley nation, if I were to use Galdioli?"

Armin tilted his head to the side, his golden hair sliding across his forehead. "Hm. No, I think it's good to be a bit bold, actually. I'll trust your judgement on it, [Name]."

You were surprised that you had asked such a convincing question, after coming to the cabin on a shaky basis. Feeling his eyes on you through the mirror, your cheeks pulled into a tight smile, and you were just about to thank the Commander, when—

"All this talk about flower crap, what ones to use, what ones to stick in your hair," Jean Kirschtein's voice piqued up, and you roiled at the way it slinked across your skin, how it called all your senses to high alert. He chuckled in a smooth timbre. "Really, [Name], you haven't changed a bit."

Stiffly, you slowly turned your posture until you could fully face the soldier in the corner of the room. He had gone back to his task of combing those auburn locks to sit neatly swept, his eyes not looking at you.

Connie Springer, who had previously been leaning out of the cabin window, turned to his comrade with an accusing face. "Says the guy who's been fixin' his damn hair the last hour. What are you even doin' that for, huh?"

In his reflection, you saw how Jean's lips stretched into a cheeky, heart-breaking smirk. It made the flutter of your pulse hum erratically, made every sharp remark you wanted to throw at him bottom out from your mind.

"Because," Jean boasted. "I gotta look good for all the Marley ladies we're gonna bump into, don't I?"

And just like that, your heartbeat stilled in your chest.

It hadn't occurred to you until then, how acutely tangible that feeling inside you had become for the golden-eyed soldier. When it had made that shift from curiously interested to all-encompassing, ravaging, when it had become a need of yours to have him in every way you could. And standing there in the doorway of that small cabin, on that boat destined for Marley, you had felt the weight drop deep against your shoulders.

You were in love with Jean Kirschtein.

It was a barrage of emotions, one coming in torrents after the other. Shock. Longing. A foolish, giddy elation. And then; anger. Brewing, boiling, furious anger.

You were in love with Jean Kirschtein.

"Miss [Name]?" Armin called you softly, his tone edged with concern. You blinked, coming back into the room, only to realise that every pair of eyes were gazing at you curiously. "Are you feeling okay?" He ebbed.

An impressive reign on your emotions you had, indeed. But these emotions were never there before — and you had realised that, all this time, this is what had been trying to rise up and swallow you down. Yet anger, you were familiar with anger, you could shield yourself with that and use it to escape, just like you have always done.

"Yes—Yes, I am quite alright," You smiled, but it was razor-sharp. Then, directing it at him, the man of all your desires, you said, "I have heard there are some interesting technologies in Marley, Kirschtein. One of them namely being the light camera. Perhaps, you should ask them to take a photo of your face, so you can stare at it as much as you want."

Jean's honey eyes went wide. Connie coughed, which turned into a deep throng of laughter that had him falling from the window and into a chair. Perhaps his comrades had joined in on the chortling too, but you did not stay long enough to find out. The moment the sharp words left your tongue, you had whirled around, shutting the cabin door behind you.

The scent of the Calla Lilies were sweet and cloying, and even as you cradled your face in your shielding hands, their pollen still found a way to reach you. Dizzying, half-maddening, just like your thoughts as they spun without mercy in your mind.

You loosed a breath and leaned up so your hands, still clasped, pressed against your mouth. You could feel each pound of your heart, as if it were a hummingbird trapped in its cage within your chest. Any moment now, you were sure it would burst free and fly far, far away. You wished it would. In fact, you wished you yourself could just burst into a thousand little pieces and soar through the cabin window and be scattered within the waves if it meant you did not have to feel like this.

Hot. Angry. Yet scared, upset, mortified at yourself and how you had exploded at him. He—Jean, he did not deserve such remarks. He did not deserve how you had taken your insecurities and made them into swords to fling back at him. Of course, you knew this, and that rational tender part of you wished to corner him in some private area of the ship and apologise. Another part warred with that thought, wishing to grab him by the lapels of his brown suit and shake him back and forth, screaming, furious that he was eliciting such feelings from you.

And yet, a smaller side of you, a dangerous, heated area of your heart also wanted to grab hold of his lapels, but only to rip and rend them from his body. Exposing his smooth, strong flesh that he held himself so proudly with underneath—

You stood up with the intention to pace around your room until you could will yourself to calm down.

That was when you heard the thundering footsteps outside.

They were quick. They were determined, rapping against the wooden floorboards that connected all corners of the ship. Startled, you felt every inch of you still, your senses on sudden high alert. They were close by. Were they coming from—?

The door to your work room suddenly flew open, the force of it strong enough to crack the door against the wall as it did so. And there he stood on the other side of it in all his maddening glory, his large hand outstretched from where he had impacted, his shoulders moving up and down with effort. Before you could even protest, Jean had invited himself into your quarters and slammed the door behind him.

His eyes, wild and stern, found you and locked you in place. Rudely, he jutted his finger in your direction and spat, "Just what the hell is your problem, huh?"

So taken aback at the sudden intrusion of the man you had just been agonising over now standing here, panting and furious in your bedroom — it had taken a second for your mind to really catch up. But when it did, your first reaction was obvious defence, causing you to straighten your spine and gawk at him.

"I beg your—!"

"Oh, don't fuck with me, [Name]. I think it's time we sat down and had this damn conversation." Jean snarled, the muscles in his cheek jumping as he spoke. "Ever since we were kids, you've had this weird hate against me, and I've never understood why. The hell have I ever done to you, hah?"

Heat was quick to rise up the column of your exposed neck and onto your cheeks. He was angry, you could see it in the way his eyes blazed, his broad shoulders bunched and tight. You mirrored him, your eyebrows knotting at what he had just said.

Hate him?

"Don't be dramatic, Kirschtein. I've never—!"

"Oh yeah?" He goaded, his expression mocking. "Bullshit. What was that back there, then? Or yesterday? Or at the newspaper stall before we left? Is that your weird sycophant way of being nice, or are we just living in a backwards world all of a sudden and I didn't get the memo?"

"We've always mocked each other, that doesn't mean I hate you—!"

"Well you damn well make it believable, sweetheart—"

"Will you please, just, calm down for a moment—"

"And you've been more prickly than usual, these days! Getting all riled up over things you usually don't, hell—you won't even fuckin' look at me anymore!"

"Well—that—that—!"

"If I've fucking done somethin' to ya, have a damn back bone and say it to me!"

"Jean—"

"And another thing—!"

"For the love of the Walls, it is because I am in love with you, you foolish man!"

The silence that cut into your argument was so deafening, you could almost hear it ringing in your ears.

Whatever angry words were about to leave Jean's open mouth died on his tongue. It almost looked as if they had been forced right back down his throat, he looked so strangled for air.

None of you dared say a thing. The only sounds that existed within the room was the echo of your laboured, angry breaths, mingling with the sudden inhale of air he took that expanded his chest. He moved his mouth, as if to say something, but nothing came out. His dark brows knitted together. He opened his mouth again.

"What... did you just say?"

It was like a bucket of water had been decanted over your head, shocking you into realising what had passed from your lips. You stood there, dumbfounded, exposed, watching the emotions play across his face. The anger melting into shock, which bled into a distortedly humorous confusion.

He took a step forward, and asked again, "Oi, what was that last thing... you just said?"

"Nothing." You bared your teeth at him. "I said nothing. Get out."

He was eating up the small distance that existed between you two until he reduced it to that of a few steps. On his face there was an expression you couldn't decipher, could not sift through the emotions which held it together. Perhaps the uncertainty of it was what sent you retreating until your back hit the far wall of your bedroom. Perhaps it was the shattering of your defences, your walls you kept up so effortlessly, that fuelled the glare you threw his way when you craned up to see him.

When you saw something simmering in the eyes that haunted you in the deepest, darkest hours of the night, you thought — perhaps it was the realisation between the two of you, that the shift from fun to tangible had taken place long, long ago.

"Leave, Kirschtein." You whispered, but it came out hollow, broken.

He narrowed his eyes, leaning down so you shared breath. "Do you want me to?"

Every aspect of him invaded your senses, made it so frustratingly hard to think, to breathe. With him so close, barely millimetres from brushing your nose with his own as he levelled your faces, you could see the smatter of freckles on his high cheekbones. Could breathe in his scent of musk and sea breeze, quickening your breaths, your pulse. Your fingers clawed into the wood behind, restraining yourself from reaching out to him. Because you were afraid that if you did touch him, that you would never be able to stop.

He shifted to press his hand to the side of your head.

"Do you," Jean murmured, whispering so as only you could hear. "Want me to leave, [Name]?"

Instinct was roaring at you to press into him, crying for a release to an ache deep within your belly that curled low and heady.

Insane. He had already drove you insane.

"Damn you, Kirschtein." You hissed, before reaching up to fist your hands into his stupidly fixed hair and crashing your lips with his.

There was a moment of surprise on his part, as if he wasn't expecting you to be so bold. His lips remained frozen underneath your own, unyielding, a perfect statue of human discomposure. Jean, however, was a never a man who was slow to adapt to any situation, give it in the midst of battle or when the woman he has been pining after for years — who, he was convinced, hated his guts — had decided to smash their lips together.

And this sound escaped from the soldier. Akin to that of a wounded animal, a tortured soul, it rumbled down your throat and you swallowed it greedily. Jean's hand flew to cradle the side of your face, pushing back against your kiss, his fingers steepling into your hair and craning your neck back. Your shared kiss started off as something chaste and unsure — releasing each other before coming back for longer, scared to stop for too long lest they woke up and realised it was all a dream.

Jean grew impatient, he grew desperate for you. In one movement he had snaked his hand behind the small of your back and hoisted you against him — almost short-circuiting at the feel of your body pressed so close, like he had thought about so damn frequently. Every time you passed him, every time he watched the strong swish of your hips as you walked through the market on a sunny afternoon. He'd bite his lip, he'd put his fist in his mouth, anything to distract himself.

But this — right here, right now. This couldn't be real.

And yet, he wanted more. He needed more, he needed you.

A moan tore up your throat when he tilted your head just right to deepen the kiss, his large hand fitting to the back of your neck. You felt his tongue explore your mouth, eager and willing, so ravaged at tasting every part of you. It occured to you that you needed his tongue on other areas of your body. Between your breasts, your thighs, you needed to fist your hand in his hair and tell him where to go.

You let out a small shriek when he suddenly hooked two hands underneath your thighs and hoisted you up against the cabin wall.

The ship rocked as you clawed at one another, unravelling folds of clothing and facets of bravado until you were just two souls, two humans, who had survived it all and were allowed to live, without fearing that tomorrow could be the last. He had fisted the ribbons of your working dress in his hands and ripped them in one pull. You gasped when the air slid across your smooth skin, now exposed, hidden behind nothing but a camisole that peaked where your taut nipples were.

Suddenly, Jean paused. He stared at you as if he were seeing you again for the very first time.

"Fuck," He gasped, holding you tighter, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your sensitive thighs. "Fuck, sweetheart, I'm—do you—?"

You grabbed the knot of his tie and pulled him back into you, kissing him with a wild, chaotic passion that caused him to unfold underneath your fingertips.

It was in that chaos that he held you up fluidly to his body and walked you over so he could splay you against the work table — where the lilies and gladioli and bittersweets lay. He had shoved them somewhere off to the side, muttering something about stupid damn flowers and how they were always in his way.

And you had laughed. In that way which Jean secretly adored, as it upturned your eyes and made them crease at the sides. Like little curving moons in the night sky.

He shucked off his suit pants in a flurry of clumsy movements, palming at your breasts hungrily as he did so. You were driving him half mad with how good you looked, you smelled — fresh daisies and honey, intoxicating him, making his head spin. He splayed his entire hand onto your stomach and asked;

"You sure?"

Something broke inside of you at his vulnerable expression, always the gentleman. You sucked you lip between your teeth and nodded your head, adding, "I believe I will go insane if I cannot have you."

"Well, that makes fuckin' two of us."

The first stroke of him inside you was incomprehensible.

The second ignited your nerve endings and made you bow up and off of the desk, pulling you taut like a bow string and releasing you when he pulled back. There was something harmonious in the ryhtmn you two found, Jean keeping a hand on your stomach while he pushed into you hard and fast. At one moment, he lifted your leg underneath the knee and spread you wider, groaning ferociously as he buried to the hilt.

He kept going until he had fractured your universe. Until the little spots in your vision were like constellations. He was placing tender kisses along your body when you came back down to him, so raptured by pleasure it was hard to move. You could feel the pulse of him still inside you and he too, rode his release.

He swept your hair from your shining forehead and placed a long, lingering kiss.

"I said," You panted, leaning up to nip at his bottom lip. Oh, but you will have him again, and again, and again, until you made no use of your legs and the boat docked on Marley. Perhaps you would not even leave this room. Perhaps they would have no flowers for their ceremonies, after all. "That I dislike your hair even more that way, I'll have you know."

Jean's honey coloured eyes — dazed with pleasure — flickered to you when you said those words. Then, he chuckled, and you felt it vibrate against your chest and deep within your heart — where he had been, all this time.

He leaned down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck and said, "I love you too, idiot."

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein #jean kirschtein x reader #this was is so self indulgent ehe #also??? sat down to write like 900 words holy shit #this became a whole passion project #jean kirsten x reader #jean kirstein x reader #🪄— milky writes #divider by fireflygraphics!#‼️ — spoilers #💓 — thump

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fqiryspit · 2 years

Text

JUST LIKE THAT. chiropractor eren x reader headcanons

It's been a while since you've been to the chiropractor, a stiff neck and back are a sign of that as you wobble your way in.

*crack* "mm, just like that" he'd whisper as you lay on your stomach, his large hands on your back as he applied more and more pressure

"turn on your back f'me"

you whimper turning over to see the most attractive man you've ever seen, it was easy to disregard those blue eyes on your stomach but now with his hair down, and brown locks framing his face as he- moves between your thighs

placing your knees on his shoulders as he massages your thighs, fingers digging deep as he looks up to you any chance he gets

his tongue lapped on your exposed cunt, your shorts are somewhere on the floor as he buries his face deeper in your pussy.

"eren!" you whine, fuck, you can't be too loud, his mouth is moving all over your cunny as he adds his fingers making you let out a sharp squeal

"come on, baby, make a mess on my fingers" he says as he licks up your clit

and you did just that, creaming down his hand as you bit your lip to keep shut, he whispers "just like that" as you cum. when your orgasm left you in a daze you watched him enter his fingers into his mouth with a groan

an: based off of this tiktok because 1 that's hot and 2 she described eren?!?!? LIKE DOWN TO A T, *except the beard but like if u wanna imagine season 4 Marley eren you do that baby<3* LMAOOO sorry its short and rushed but i just needed to get this out

#eren smut #eren x reader #eren #attack on titan #eren yeager #aot #eren jaeger #eren x you #eren jeager #eren yeager smut #eren fluff #eren jeager x reader #eren x reader smut #eren jaeger x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan smut #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger smut

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randomfanficsig · 1 year

Text

“It hurts”

Spencer Reid x gf!reader

Warnings: periods (although this shouldn’t have to be a warning) 😀

Waking up to the feeling of wet bed sheets is never the best, especially when it signifies that you got your period.

“For fucks sake” I groan to myself, rushing to the bathroom to shower and get a tampon.

Mornings like these have never been the best for me. The cramps tend to settle in an hour or so after I wake up, sometimes leaving me unable to move.

My first priority is eating.

Toast. Toast and orange juice will do me just fine.

After eating breakfast, the cramps start. A sharp pain shoots from my uterus, traveling around to my back and up my spine.

“You son of a bi- OW” I shout throughout my apartment, hunching over the kitchen island.

Spencer. I’m going to call Spencer, he makes everything better.

The phone rings on my ear, not long followed by the sexy morning voice of my boyfriend.

“Hey baby, everything okay?” He asks straight away.

“Sorry Spence, did i wake you?” I reply, the guilt making me want to cry. These bloody hormones , I swear to god.

“Yeah, but it’s okay. Are you okay?” He asks again.

“No, can you come over?” I reply honestly. No point lying to a literal behavioural analyst.

“I’ll be 10 minutes, I love you” is all he says before hanging up.

Another pain shoots from my stomach, causing tears to run down my face and grip onto the kitchen island for support. Im going to just stay here, makes my life easier.

The pain continued, my sobs completely drowning out the sound of Spencer opening the door. I hadn’t even realised he was here until his hand touched my back, while the other places a grocery bag on the island.

“Woah, woah, baby what’s the matter?” He asks, concern filling his face.

“It hurts. The cramps are so bad” I sob, now gripping onto his bicep for support.

He grabs my waist pulling me into him, as I cry into his shoulder.

“I’ll grab you some painkillers and a hot water bottle, just go sit on the couch sweetheart” he whispers into my ear softly.

I do as he says, grabbing the blanket of the back of the couch and wrapping myself in it.

A few minutes later, Spencer comes back with 2 painkillers, a glass of water, and a nice and warm hot water bottle that he instantly places on my stomach.

He sits down, lifting my legs and then placing them on his lap.

“Wanna put on a movie?” He begins “How about Marley and me, you love that movie”

I smile up at him and he reaches over to grab the remote from the coffee table.

“I love you, you know that right Spence?” I tell him, while admiring his gorgeous face that stares back at me.

“You tell me everyday, and I love you too y/n” he leans down and places a kiss on my lips, that I instantly return back.

This man better never leave me.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader

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vampirecorleone · 3 months

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“Incredible, they’re even stronger than expected. The Female Titan. It’s greatest strength is it’s versatility. Not only does it boast a combination of high mobility and endurance, it’s hardened strikes are incredibly destructive. It’s also able to summon Pure Titans. Though it’s range is limited. Leonhart is perfect. The Armored Titan naturally specializes in defense. But if it charges at full speed, it can break through gates and walls alike. As Marley’s shield, it needs to stand tall where the fighting is thickest. It suits Braun’s tenacious spirit. The Jaw Titan is an assault weapon. It’s as speedy as it is small, with powerful claws and teeth that can crush almost anything. Marcel’s sharp enough to keep up with it. The Beast Titan is more perfect than ever. It’s large and strong, but more importantly, it can outperform an artillery unit with nothing but a fistful of rock. What’s more, it’s greatest power lies in it’s blood. The Cart Titan’s outstanding endurance makes it well-suited for lengthy missions on the field. Because it can hold it’s form for days on end, we’ve enhanced it with specialized equipment. Pieck’s superior judgment will serve well here. Finally, there’s the Colossal Titan. It is a God of Destruction. We trust that Hoover can handle it.” Attack on Titan - Marley's Warrior Unit

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heliiacus · 9 days

Text

to traverse this with you

tags: armin x reader, forced proximity, pining, banter, falling in love, build up, reader uses she/her pronouns

warnings: none!

words: 1.1k | masterlist

a/n: had to repost this a few times due to tussles with tumblr issues, this one is up for good ! apologies for the inconvenience and thank you to those who helped me solve it <3

They used to love one another, long ago. Not loudly, nor ferociously, or even in a way that the other knew about, but they did. She knows that now. It could have stayed simple. They could have stayed apart. It has been years since she's been deployed to Marley, to live and work under a secret identity; and grieve as she may have for him, she could have lived with it. She really could have. They could have stayed star-crossed, torn away by war, but things just had to get difficult. Now, with tensions rising, she is forced to relocate – to trek through the lone mountains in the desolate Marleyan wilderness, in an attempt to clandestinely reach a port outside Liberio. And in another world it would have, perhaps, been a task of a casual undertaking. It could have been simple. Were it not for him, by her side: the man she has grieved for this entire time. Were it not for this one simple, stupid mistake.

It carries on as their new routine, this strange, gentle impasse between them. Their travels grow marked by harsher and colder nights, rain pattering on the fabric of their tent more often than not. They, too, grow used to one another, in a sense of the word; no longer does the once-alive distance between them fester, and no longer do they startle when woken in the early morning light, this close to one another. Their conversations, once still so tentative, grow open and bare, and they, too, now sit flushly side by side, resting early morning and night. It becomes easier, in a way. In a way, it does not.

Each morning they linger, as if bound by some decree. They are late for their hike each morning, but this they do not seem to mind. When they wake, they talk in hushed voices, things that once seemed meaningless passing between them; and when they rise, it is almost, almost with great difficulty: hands gliding over the skin of the other's palms, as if pulled back towards, backwards; as if unable to let go.

She pretends, at first, that his eyes do not linger on her. He smiles fondly at her, when he thinks she does not see, and each time, each time she tucks it safely away, deep within some hidden crevice in her heart. Slowly, some shift forms between them, both intangible and incorporeal, but so perceptibly real that, some nights, she feels she could reach out and touch it. It feels a far cry now, this space between them; not from the first night they've spent in these mountains, but before: from the fleeting touches and the friendly embraces they've shared back on Paradis, those which now seem to bear no weight to the delicate hold he has on her once the sun hides from them.

She tries not to think of it too much. She does try. Even when she'd watch him stoke the fire as the sun toiled downwards, her hands idle by his side, or when she'd dare not fight the urge to watch him, just for a moment, on the rare early mornings when she would wake first. Even when her heart would beat, loud, so loud, at the sound of her name in his mouth.

Even when she'd feel his hands brush hers, or at a strand of her hair, or at her lower back, always pulling right back, as if scorched – as if overwhelmed by the sharp, roiling electricity between them. She pretends she is not pulled, magnetized by the polarity of his being, pulled taut by strings she does not see. But some days, some days, she, breathless, would catch him watching her indolently, gaze soft with something that covers her skin whole – and those days she can't pretend. Those days, she feels as if she were treading water, deep to her knees, and she feels it still and warm.

And even when they ready for bed, they no longer seem to hesitate. Her hands do not flinch when she lays them flat against his back, and his own squeeze at her frame, once in a while – ever so gently, as if telling her something too tender for words; as if checking, with this permeating earnestness, if she is still there, still in his arms. And when she sleeps, she does so with her cheek to his chest, feeling, truly, just how discordantly his chest rattles at her presence.

"Are you listening?" Armin asks her, looking at her with an amused glint in his eye. He walks so close to her she can feel his warmth on her arm, and she would startle, perhaps – in another time.

"Not really. Sorry. Please repeat?"

"Something on your mind?"

"Nothing much," she tells him earnestly, and she grins on instinct once she sees that sheer, stubborn expression on his face.

"So elusive," he says, and he bumps his shoulder into hers. It travels through her. "Tell me?"

"Well," she gives in, finding herself pliant to him. She watches, with a gentle smile, as a satisfied, grateful light passes through his eyes. "I was thinking of this. That I’m going to miss this, in a way."

"Really?" He asks her, far too quickly, far too brightly, and she stops walking, torn between bursting open with laughter and nearly scolding him. He smiles at her, cheeks dusted pink, bashful and shy now that he knows he has loused up. "Sorry," he says, corners of his lips curled so delicately that it almost steals her breath, and she wonders if he will ask her, the thing lying sly beneath his excitement: which part?

But he doesn't. He stands still with her, cheeks blushed and grin shy, and she's breathless when she tells him: "Really." For a moment, she wonders if she should tell him still, even if he did not question her; she wonders if he is waiting for it, as eagerly as he'd reacted to her at first. But as she stands there, zenith sun so bright in his golden hair, her hands feel heavy, and her tongue twists, and she finds herself unable to say it, so instead she tells him: "I'd walk and walk through these mountains with you, Armin."

And it strikes her when he smiles. Eyelashes fluttering down as he peers over to the ground, cheeks dimpled from the grin that graces him, and her heart flutters, and flutters, her hands aching by the straps of her backpack, idle sharply from the sparks within them.

Then, grin wide and fierce, he tells her: "Let's keep walking, then." He turns and walks, straight in front of her, his step so eager it is as if she'd told him just what he wanted to hear, and she laughs as she watches him. Her step falters, of course; watching him, she knows that this road will not last. Watching him, she knows, she knows, fervently, that soon this journey will come to end. She could pray, of course, that it would not; she could pray that things would not change, or that he would stay those four steps ahead, always within her sight. But she does not.

He turns back to her. He looks at her, eyes bright and burning, hand outreached before her – as if beckoning. There’s no wind or air in her lungs. She just smiles. Then she steps forward, to him.

dividers by arlerts-angel

tag list: @arlerts-angel @levistealeaf

@sukunascrustyfinger @chiinni

@dilfkentolover @arminarlertssword

@bel-https @layla240

@katestrophes @er3nscottonpicker

@siiyoko @lemontrees-things

@arminarlertspersonalnurse

@dvrkfverie

@girlybelle @blvewave

reblogs are dearly appreciated, sweetlings 💗 genuine apologies to those who received multiple notifications from this post !!

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hangesdarling · 1 month

Note

… marley hans capturing scout/titan shifter reader and doing experiments on her while being a flirt *runs away*

captive — h. zoë

PAIRING. Hange Zoë x female reader SYNOPSIS. You're a Titan shifter responsible for handling the Female Titan but you were held captive by a Marleyan scientist who won't stop flirting with you. CONTENT. Suggestive content, nothing explicit, just Hange being a huge flirt, implied sex WORD COUNT. 2.3k A/N. omg anon i swear this idea is on my hange drafts already. love this idea so muchh

It could have been afternoon or midnight but the place you were detained to cannot even allow a sliver of light. You knew it had been hours ago, but your skin still tingled from being captured by hundreds of sharp harpoons, encasing your Female Titan in a tight restraint. Next thing you knew, you were back to your human form, surrounded by people in lab coats while they converse in crazed enthusiasm as though they were trained to gawk at the likes of you. They tied you up with much restraint from how you were struggling, even landing a blind fist or two on whoever touched you. You observed how haphazard and loose the ropes in your hands were. If you weren't so drained, you could have made an escape considering how busy those scientists were in sputtering words sounding nonsense from how fast they were talking. The noise only stopped at the entrance of a familiar figure, one imposing authority who ordered all of them out of that lab room.

Dr. Zoë. That's the name they were addressed by. Despite the authority this new figure seemed to be holding, one of the unruly in that bunch had the nerve to protest, even addressing them by their first name.

Hange.

From the darkness, the sharp look in their eyes was enough to disconcert anyone, causing any further protests from those scientists to clam up. The group left the room after being ordered for the last time.

In the faint muted light illuminating the room, you observed this person with relaxed eyes matching their sharp features. The brown locks framing their face along those rimmed glasses made them look so enchanting in this light. They pulled two chairs from the side, sitting on one before they offered you the other.

"Hello there. Y/N, isn't it? Nice to have you here." They smiled. It unsettled you not because they're creepy but it was said with much welcoming tenderness. You're beginning to notice how lovely the shade of brown in their eyes looked.

You were on the verge of obeying but snapped immediately and reminded yourself that this person is your enemy. The one that led to your capture as you remembered.

"I'm not sitting there. Go to hell," you said with much bitterness.

But Hange wasn't one to get mad so easily. Their anger wasn't something pleasant to be on the receiving end of. They only smiled at you, flashing the mischief in their eyes.

"Such rude words from such a pretty girl. Is that how you island devils greet other people?" they smirked, the way they were sitting cross-legged almost felt like a taunt. You only glared in response, fingering over the loose ropes on your back. Hange sighed, a small knowing smile remained on their face before they stood up and went to your back. They pulled you to their body, your back almost pressing against their chest as they tightened the ropes around your wrists. A warning, a way to tell you that they're not to be messed around with.

"Right. Sorry. Please don’t get offended, I'm only messing with you. Just sit down," they said, almost apologetic for their previous remark as they forced you down on the chair.

Once you were sitting down, they knelt in front of you, this time busying their hands around restraining your feet. They spoke as they did so.

"You know, those scientists harassing you earlier, they could be authorized if they wanted to. But I'm the head of this experiment so don't you worry. I'm handling you from now on. Aren't you excited?" Hange looked softly at you but it wasn't exactly a comforting one.

You divert your attention from them, trying to focus on the issue at hand.

"What the hell do you want from me? The Female Titan?"

Hange shook their head, sitting back in their chair after tying up your feet. "We're not there yet. I'm here to observe you for a while."

They explained all the things you would undergo. All the tests they spoke of seemed to be directed at measuring the extent of the Female Titan's battle strength and endurance. This scientist's intuition placed a fear within you. You knew that they would get all the answers they needed after a few weeks of the experiment. They act flirty and playful to mask the intent and determination to get their questions answered.

"What makes you think I'll cooperate with you?" you glared at them.

"Oh, you will. You have no choice, after all," Hange answered with a slight chuckle.

"Perhaps. But I'll make every moment of this experiment a hell for you." That much was true, you wanted to prove that having you will never be easy. The Marleyans may pride themselves on technological and weaponry advancement but your resourcefulness and skills were honed through rough training. The careful and organized capture plan of the Marleyan military was enough to prove that you weren't easy prey.

"Oh, great then. I love difficult things," they grinned, taking a clipboard from their table. They read over the contents, gently nibbling at the cap as they were thinking. You wanted to kick down the leg of their chair from how lightly they were taking this.

"All right, let's start," they spoke again. "You hardened your body to escape us but failed. I still have a few samples of that crystalline substance."

They raised their eyes above their glasses to look at you, their gaze traveling along the length of your arm.

"You still have tiny scabs on your skin from your failure to transform. Can I see?" they asked. But you only pursed your lips in response, remaining watchful of their actions.

Hange would not take no for an answer anyway so they began to work on untying the restraint around one of your wrists. However, they paused and added, "I'll free your arm but promise not to punch me, alright? I saw the nasty bruise you did on my co-worker's face and I don't want that. It won't look good on me, don't you think?"

They kept that playful manner of talking, their chair kept close to yours as both of your knees were almost brushing. You're in a position where Hange almost fills your vision. They were so close that you only had to lean a few inches to bite their ear off. You don't know whether this one is careless or crazy but you suspect the latter to be more true.

"I think you'll look even more handsome with your head bashed in," you smiled, trying to unnerve them by giving them the same flirty treatment. But they only replied with a laugh.

"Oh, come on. Don't get kinky with me just yet," they smirked at you, a hand now firmly around your freed wrist. They focused their attention on the irregular scabs, protruding at the surface of your skin. They eyed it like a creature fresh out of water, gently running a slender finger over them, prodding, and poking a nail to the rim of each scab glued to your skin. You winced and slightly shuddered at the touch to which Hange responded by retracting their finger abruptly.

"Hurts?" They had to ask despite knowing you wouldn't respond properly. Hange was still amused by how hard it was to gain even a bit of your trust. If anything, it made you even more fascinating in their eyes.

"Let me see what I can do for you," Hange stood up and walked over to a drawer. They lifted a few things, and eventually retrieved a small bottle of healing cream fitted perfectly on their palm. They popped the lid open and applied an ample amount on their fingers.

They kneeled beside you once again and said, "Don't worry, it'll soothe the pain. This will soften the scabs so you can gently peel them off in the morning."

They spread the cool cream over the scabs, careful not to scratch the surface. Your eyes couldn't help but stare at how soft their face looked despite their sharp, handsome features. They looked even more captivating up close. Hange turned their head and looked at you this time, maybe waiting for a reaction or a query.

You furrowed your eyebrows at their action, averting your eyes before saying "Why are you staring at me like a creep?"

"Hm, look who's talking. You're the one staring first," Hange brought their lips near your ear. "You think I didn't catch you, sweetheart?"

"Don't mind me planning how to kill you," you retorted, trying to save yourself from being confronted with something else. And it wasn't helping that your voice broke, and weakened, submitting to their flirty attitude. Hange smiled to themself as they caught this.

The tension between you thickened, so much that it could be pierced if Hange even brushed their hand against you. You cursed under your breath as your heart raced, thumping out of your chest in the most unlikely manner unfit for your situation. Hange kept the look of amusement on their face, gaze lowering to your lip. It frustrates you as your mind debates whether you want to violently bite their lip off, or kiss them.

"You're quite a fascinating one, you know," Hange spoke, the low tone of their voice suggested something else rather than fascination. Their hand lightly ran on the expanse of your back.

"And you're a weird one," you whispered, gulping down the arousal thickening in your throat.

Hange chuckled, a hand brushing the hair out of your face. "I bet you get off on that, right? It must be the crazy ones that do it for you."

"Shut up."

---

You heard the gentle whirring of a fan as you woke up from the couch. Hange's lab coat buttoned on your body enough to prevent your breasts from spilling out. They sat beside you, drinking cold beer as they read several reports. However, their eyes brightened as they caught you awake. They offered you a drink, the beer can cold against your cheek as you pouted slightly at them.

"I can't believe I slept with you," you muttered, popping the can open with a fizz before bringing it to your lips.

"You're saying that when you're the one half-naked on my couch," Hange smirked, rising to the couch so they could sit beside you. An arm wrapped around your waist, their other holding their clipboard as they said, "Interesting observation from you. You have a lot of stamina. Very suitable for the Female Titan."

"Oh, god. Shut up," you turned your head away as you drank, knowing very well where they derived that observation. You tried to trace back how the hell your clothes were tossed aside in that lab. To start it out, they trusted you enough to free your wrists and feet. One moment they were telling you about titans and titan shifters, and the next how beautiful your eyes would look in natural light. They still want to talk about bipedal animals related to titan behavior but your lips had already crashed against theirs, with much intensity that brought the two of you collapsing on the couch. It was safe to say that it was your fault that the shirt they were wearing was missing at least three buttons. Hange poked at the lovely blush creeping on your cheek as you tried your hardest to not get flustered.

"Hah, you're blushing. Cute," Hange chuckled. Their eyes softened once again as they gently tilted your head towards them. "Hey, listen to me... How about we make a deal?"

They turned you in a way that you were listening to them. They pushed up their glasses, easily fixing the brown locks of hair you were tugging on earlier so nothing got on their face as they spoke to you.

"You'll give me your cooperation, and I'll provide you safety. None of those Marleyan scientists will get their hands on you," Hange began, their body almost pressing against yours from how close they were sitting. "Don't worry, you'll just have to sit pretty and follow my methods. I'll be the only one to handle you."

Your eyes searched for the glint of dishonesty, or some form of mischievous deceit in their eyes but found none. No matter how much you convinced yourself that they were lying, every part of you denounced it.

"I hope you're ready since it will just be you and me until the experimentation ends," they said finally smiling to themselves. They sipped on their drink, waiting for you to speak.

Trust is the beginning of a soldier's downfall. You knew that. It was drilled in your mind, every day for half of your life. You're supposed to thrive off deception, of the manipulation of your enemies, and this one right here in front of you was no exception. Doesn't matter if they sounded so genuine or if they were fucking you half an hour ago. However, your resolve blurs when you look at them, your concept of what is right or wrong coalesces with what you need and desire.

You just remained silent, setting down your drink before climbing on their lap much to their surprise.

"I'm not answering any of that right now. Bear the mystery. Play with fire. That's what you like after all, Hange..." you whispered into their ear, your answer playing safe in case anything else may occur between you.

Your answer only made Hange's heart thump, you can almost feel how it raced when pressed against your bare chest. Hange circled their hands around your waist once again, pulling you more into their lap.

Their lips brushed against your neck as they said, "Fine by me. I bet this would make things a lot more interesting, don't you think?"

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

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