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satoruhour · 7 months

Note

need reader to have a confession with priest!geto about how they feel guilty for touching themselves late alone at night and priest!geto helps them by just fucking their brains out as a “penance” for their sins.

yes, i’m okay in the head btw! (lie)

AU REVOIR, O HEAVEN !

wc: 12.2k

warnings: DARK CONTENT, SLOW BUILDUP, CORRUPTION, priest!geto, fem!reader, age gap (reader is in early 20s, geto in late 20s), long descriptive fic that goes in depth of christian lore, lots and lots of christian references / metaphors / analogies, comparison to Satan’s banishment and fall from heaven, religious themes used in inappropriate ways, questions of religion and life, multiple scenes of f! and m! masturbation, fingering, clit stimulation, virginity loss, both f! and m! receiving oral, cumshot, praise, degradation, spitting, sex in a religious place, p -> v sex, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

for a small town like yours, it was a no-brainer that everyone knew everyone; and everyone’s drama as well. from the baker’s daughter being a whore to the mayor of the town being sacked for purposes that have since been twisted by word of mouth. that was another thing: word got around fast, and it was particularly suffocating in a conservative town such as yours. people were not outright about the obvious choices they favoured, but there was the older generation who were not shy to turn down progressive ideas.

because of that, the previous priest was kicked out because of the misuse of funds from mass collection and offertory. it was one thing to see a bunch of notes missing from the sack and the money counter but it was another thing to see that money going into funding a new strip club that was opening in the next town over.

it was simply unheard of, and the parishioners basically gave him a free ride to that very strip club by excommunicating him from his own church. it was unbecoming of a priest, especially in such a small congregation that everyone made sure the new priest to transfer here was a God-honouring one.

you hope he was. you’ve always felt the obligated need to serve your god and your parents. always the good girl, following the Ten Commandments, saving yourself for marriage. it was the natural order of a christian, and you could only hope that you’d get even a fraction of the eternal life they preach about in mass. but lately you’ve been having some . . thoughts, and you pray that this new priest could help you immensely, even if you had to do a hundred Hail Mary’s at the pews.

it was peculiar, the first time it occurred to you. the area where your body separates into two and forms two legs — the centre of it all, the middle where Eve had it covered in statues and paintings with a leaf, the middle where you had only learned of it in anatomical drawings. you knew what the vagina, cervix and the ovaries were, but seeing the convergence of pink and maroon between your legs confused you, even scared you.

and the next was when you’d had a guy come up to you whilst doing up your university application, saying something along the lines of how cute you were, would you like to grab a drink some time? and you were left dumbfounded and unable to answer. you let your eyes travel over his features, of the exposed arms of his button up shirt and the thickness of his forearms, you let your eyes skim over his plump thighs before you’re asked “are you okay?”

“n . . no sorry, i already have a boyfriend.” you lie through your teeth and all the guy does is sigh before walking away — but now you’re left with a bigger problem . . why was the thing between your legs throbbing? you swear you can feel your panties getting wet as well, but you aren’t quite sure why.

that night you’re lying in bed with a lewd website shining right in your face, as you’ve laid here for about two hours already, going through in your head whether you really wanted to do this. your hands had been clean, untainted from the moment you were born, but you imagine going to university and knowing not a thing about sex and that makes your whole body burn in embarrassment.

you chicken out and fall asleep.

“honey! come down here, i want you to meet someone.” your mother calls out to you, running about like she usually does. she’s always overworking — caring for the newborn, cooking the meals, cleaning the place. why don’t you ask dad to help sometimes? / nonsense! he works so hard and deserves a break! i don’t mind. / but he just lazes around at home after work . .

you’re pleasantly surprised to find a long-haired man at your front door, clad in a thick and loose turtleneck sweater with a gentle smile on his face. that uncomfortable feeling returns to your core and you land a hand to your stomach to calm the churning that’s happening.

“hello, and you are?”

you’d never think you would see one of God’s angels on earth in actual flesh in front of you. you’re convinced God is looking over you and you think you might see heaven when that silky voice repeats himself again.

“hi, kind miss, are you alright?”

“h . . huh? oh! yeah, uhm— who are you?”

your mother smacks you on your shoulder and sidles up to your side, holding onto your arm a little tightly that it hurts just a bit.

“don’t be rude!” she whisper-shouts to you, “this is geto suguru, and—”

“and i’m the new priest for the church.”

that catches you off-guard. he’s the new priest that was just transferred over? he looks anything but a holy man of God, what with his long hair and gauges in his ears; if you didn’t know any better you would think he was the one paying for the strip club instead. he seems to read your mind.

“i know i look . . a bit of a delinquent, miss, but i promise you the word of God is what i strictly live by. i honour and praise him with all that i can.”

“ah, i’m sorry if you thought i thought that way, father.” you mumble, giving him an awkward smile that he misses because he’s too busy focusing on the way you say father. you’re prepared to close the door on him already; the pulsing sensation between your legs isn’t fading and your whole body feels like it burns in hell. you rub your thighs together for some sort of relief, nothing.

“that’s usually the response i get, so i thought i would preface it first.” a little laugh leaves geto’s lips and if it wasn’t for you holding on for dear life on the door, you definitely would’ve buckled under your knees. “no hard feelings.”

“he’s a charmer, ain’t he?” there’s another sheepish laugh from the pastor at that. “told me he’s been going around giving cakes to all the people as a way to thank them for letting him take over the church.” your heart melts at that — he looked so hot and had a heart of gold, too?

“what cake did you get us, father?” you blurt out and you have no time to take it back, but the preacher doesn’t seem to mind. you also don’t seem to mind that barrier of authority that was established ever since he‘s introduced himself as the new priest of the church. it felt . . friendlier, less intimidating than the previous. it was probably mostly due to him not wearing his cassock or collar, though.

“chocolate.” that one word possibly ignited every nerve in you. the smooth lilt in his voice paired with the slight smirk. it was detrimental. you were going to hell, you were condemned to eternal damnation.

“how’d you know i liked chocolate?”

he shrugs, “lucky guess.” wrong.

he had come around the day before already, but you were too distracted with work and pressured with a deadline that music drained out everything else — one look at your side profile and the hard-working first year university student was all it took for geto to return again today with another cake of your liking. oh! you’re such a sweet one for asking what flavour we like; frankly, my dear boy, my husband and i don’t really eat cake but her . . loves it for some reason. i wonder where she gets the sweet tooth from, honestly.

geto could only thank his saviour that your mother had promised not to tell you he already came around yesterday. and it looks like she didn’t.

“i should get going, miss . .”

“(y/n).”

geto simply nods his head, resisting the urge to call your name pretty and only manages a decent call to your mother. “mrs (l/n), i’m heading off, thank you for having me. (y/n).”

you return his smile, hesitantly, inching the door close with immense difficulty — you wanted to see him walk away with that imposing height of his, of the proper gait he carried himself with and the politeness in which he greets people of the town.

that night you locked yourself in your room, muttering out some dumb excuse of having to study for a test when in reality you were more interested in the feeling between your legs. it both excited and scared you when you first find a comfortable position on your bed, stalling for a good half ’n hour before the clinking cutlery of dinner happening downstairs had brought you to your senses. there were countless articles open in your safari tab, none of which helped your growing dilemma — a tear in the Red Sea between the sin of pleasure and the liberation of acting on it. you felt like Moses, treading in the centre, on the fence.

one last text made you yelp out loud.

[8:03 pm, read]: R u coming down 4 dinner?

it was your mother, as if she knew what was happening behind doors.

[8:03 pm, delivered]: nope, sorry mummy. need to study for this test, its important !

[8:05 pm, read]: Alright, alright. I left out a serving of what we cooked tonite. Heat up if u need to with the microwave O.K.? Don’t sleep so late!

you simply favourited her message, losing all motivation from before; until your mind crosses over dinner and goes straight to that chocolate cake, and then to the person who had brought it.

“Farewell happy fields / Where joy forever dwells: Hail, horrors, hail.”

“geto . . geto suguru.” the name feels foreign. it does sound like a countryside name but it felt like he had come from the city instead. “geto . .” you sigh, letting your hands tremble and move along your body. they brush over your chest, over your nipples and you recoil a little from the strange feeling. they harden under your touch as you continue to repeat his name.

each murmur of his name is a step farther from God, dipping your toes into the waters of hell as your fingers travel lower, lower, lower. you press a finger against your clit unknowingly, and you let out a loud moan; you immediately slap a hand over your mouth.

but the pleasure’s too much, and so you try again. one hand goes back to your nipples, squeezing your tits and playing with them while your fingers rub pathetic circles along your core.

“su . .” you gulp. “geto—”

you pant softly to yourself as you continue to rub your clit, messy, inexperienced circles in whatever shape or form. as long as it felt good to you, you were doing it. you made sure to keep your moans in as your hips bucked into your hands, back arching off the bed in needy movements. your hands were getting tired, clutching at the bedsheets.

long hair, built physique, crucifix on his neck. funny, you never noticed that before, but now you imagine it clearly, dangling over your face. you’re imagining geto fucking you, thrusting his cock into you as he groans out your name.

you’re at the end of your tether, feeling the deep plunge of your body in Satan’s lair the same time you cum for the first time in your life and your body shakes so violently. you flail around on your bed, bite into your shirt, anything to keep you quiet from the immense orgasm you had just felt. your pussy clenches around nothing and your hand aches so much it might fall off, but it just feel so damn good that you only have a minute’s rest before you’re rubbing at your clit again.

scooping up a little of your cum, you marvel at the clear liquid, sucking on your finger to try the thing that’s always drenched your panties. and soon you’re conjuring the image of the long-haired priest yet again, never really studying for that test you made up or even eating dinner — all you do is rest and come again, each time more wrecked than the last time.

you dreaded going to church the next morning.

it had slipped your mind that service was to continue once geto has gotten settled down in the rectory, a small outhouse at the back of the church that had been revamped. you’re not sure on how father geto was able to get it done up so fast but, you’re not one to question.

with the short walk to church, you regret not eating the night before, groaning softly at the discomfort of your growling stomach. what you were more worried of though, was what would happen to you once you stepped foot in the church. was your body going to go up in flames? were you going to get ridiculed by the townspeople? were you going to get called out by father geto in front of everyone?

“what’s gotten you so worked up?” your father was walking behind and smoking, as always, not giving a shit about your mother and the newborn.

“nothing . . just, wondering if i got everything in my head for my test.” your mother coos, and your baby brother in the carrier thinks it’s because of him. he babbles into your mom’s shirt, giggling.

“you’ll do fine, honey,” the reassurance worried you only more. you were lying outright — you had no test, you weren’t even studying, you were busy—!

“i raised a smart girl, didn’t i?” you can only manage a smile, reaching the church within minutes. taking the chance to mutter a short prayer and a plea, you take a deep breath and that light from above Lucifer’s kingdom seem to call out to you again.

stepping into the simple but cozy church, you dip your hands in holy water. Father, Son, Holy Spirit along your forehead, chest and shoulders before you trail behind your mother, suggesting places for you to sit at the back. she only waved your hand away, pointing towards the front. we always sit at the front! why the sudden change? / nothing . . maybe thought we could switch it up a little.

the mass starts after a few minutes of waiting, and you have the luxury of wallowing in your self-pity and guilt for those few minutes, trying to get the very filthy imagery of father geto above you, father geto between your legs, father geto himself out of your head. you fail, it’s only amplified when the bell rings and the congregation stands up.

everyone waits in anticipation for the new priest in this small town, hoping he won’t disappoint them like the last one. but they already seem to be in good spirits as he makes the entrance down the very short church. two altar boys follow behind him in the procession, accompanied by an organist and a duo of choir singers, straining to have their voice heard over the loud instrument. he’s already made some friends, nodding to the excited kid who whispers and the shy girl who waves her hands at him. but while everyone feels anticipation in hopes of a good sermon, dread is only making your legs feel like lead, you feel lightheaded, dizzy even.

because whatever you had imagined last night was him in his sweater get-up, and it just now sinks in what a disgusting thing you were doing as you watch the rich purple of his chasuble sway alongside his stole — the very image of him in his priest robes (in Lent season too, not to mention) — meant to deter you from more thoughts, only fed your desires.

geto suguru made being a pastor look so natural, and attractive, that it was almost criminal.

“good morning, brothers and sisters, how are we all doing this morning?” there’s a few murmurs around, but geto doesn’t falter, instead pressing on with his very convincing, beautiful speech; as does he with the rest of the mass. he conducts himself with as much professionalism as he can, handling the Eucharist with proper hands, giving a sermon whilst giving you too many eyes, distributing Holy Communion with a gentle, accepting smile; your skin burnt when he handed you the body of Christ, a soft inaudible “amen” hanging off your lips.

father geto was all the talk after, some hanging around to catch a minute of geto’s time if they could and you were no different, purposely looping your arm through your mother’s and slowly down your pace.

“goin’ out for a smoke.” your father gruffly tells the three of you, two of which understands better. your newborn simply cuddles deeper into your mother’s breast, humming softly into the nap.

“’kay.” it was opportunistic, now, as your eyes flit around the place to find geto talking to two older ladies. he’s politely bent down to reach their heights better, chasuble now removed and simply in his alb, one patting his shoulder and the other giggling. you think you imagine it but his eyes dart over to you for a moment and then off to the other parishioners.

“how are you two lovely ladies doing?” you hear him before you see him and the voice startles you a little, jumping back from brushing your baby brother’s almost non-existent hair.

“fine.” it comes out kurt and abrupt and you burn when your mother nudges you like yesterday.

“think what she means is that we’re perfectly fine. how was your first mass?”

father geto looks around the church, recalls the altar boys, ingrains each church-goer into his head, “i hope the congregation likes me.”

“oh, nonsense! i’m sure they do,” your mother reassures. she was always good like that, putting others before her and making sure they see the best in themselves, “that was a very riveting sermon you delivered.”

“yeah—! yeah, i . . really enjoyed it, father geto.”

a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, “did you now?”

you nod, and he continues, “you enjoyed me telling you that sin was revolting?”

when he phrases it like that . . you swallow, “isn’t that what God’s whole schtick is?”

and that makes father geto laugh, because for such an innocent flower like you, you make it sound like you were forced to go to church and made to learn the basis of why God exists and now you just don’t know what to do with it. it’s common for people at their university age where they’re exposed to more views and mindsets, to question the religion you were born in and think about what it meant to be tied to a god you didn’t even really know existed, and when that happens, Christianity turns stagnant and boring.

“yes, pretty much, miss (y/n), but His schtick also involves forgiving anyone who has sinned against Him. after all, that’s what He died on the cross for.”

“y . . yeah, i know, father geto.”

you only realise now his purple chasuble matches his eyes, eyes that swirl with the colours of amethyst. they’re much brighter in the parish lighting, and they hold your stare much longer than yesterday. there’s the tugging feeling at your stomach again that goes right down to your centre and it throbs; your eyes flutter and blink to get you out of your head.

“good that you know . . of course, it’s not an invitation to sin. self-restraint and chastity still exists,” you hate how he puts an emphasis on the latter word, because he could be referring to anything, “but we need not be worried for our lives. we only need to pray and repent in prayer, and God will have mercy on us.”

but well, if God didn’t want you to sin, how then can he explain creating such an attractive person? if God valued his followers’ self control, why did he have to plant such lewd, inappropriate thoughts of his preacher in your head?

father geto could probably see your dilemma with how hard he was staring at you, and he only makes it worse by putting his larger hand on your left shoulder. it descends deeper to your upper arm and the skin there ignites—

“i hope you liked the chocolate cake.”

you manage a small smile, “haven’t had the chance to try it, sorry, father.”

“don’t apologise.” you forget your mother and baby brother is even beside you with how he talks to you. you’d love to be on his chest, hearing the deep rumbling of his voice or even have his hands be somewhere else but your arm. you don’t know how simply talking to you has got him doing everything in his power to restrain himself; not even a prayer from God could help.

“The mind is its own place, and in it self / Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n.”

what you don’t know, either, that the hand on your shoulder was between his legs just last afternoon, trying so hard not to sneak under his cassock. he could barely keep his moans in, palming his bulge from above his robes at the mere thought of you. no touching means less sin, right? he comes to that pathetic conclusion easily, so all he does is bury himself in the outhouse after distributing his cakes, hips positioned over his pillow and he grinds.

the feeling for father geto was so archaic, been so long since he’s given up his life to God right after graduating university. all the carefree times that he’s experienced — drinking in dorms, going to parties, getting some nice quick fucks in between exams — were going to stop for good. but that doesn’t mean he stopped lusting.

lust. one of the seven deadly sins, a weak point for father geto’s journey as a pastor. it’s obvious now too that he hasn’t really left his older ways, bucking his hips into the fabric of his pillow. he thinks of you, your sweet little eyes and your cute outfit at home, he thinks of your face twisted into pleasure as he’s positioned between your legs.

father geto twitches, friction against the underside of his cock feeling so good after years and years of holding back — with a pretty face to think of, too. his hips ruts in short thrusts, desperate for that high and he chokes on a moan imagining your sweet voice begging to cum. and so does he, shooting such a large, hot load into his underwear that even his cassock is stained with his cum. but unlike you, he’s already thinking of his next round — if he’s doomed to die by lust, then might as well go all the way.

father geto spares a glance towards the door just to be safe before flipping over on his back, and pulls his robes above his lower half. the sight is dirty, underwear painted a darker colour and cum sticking to every part of the fabric. once he wraps a hand around his cock, geto is gone, pumping it so fast he might have gotten a burn along his length but it’s all rewarded by the second quick orgasm he reaches — spurting ribbons of cum all over his holy garments.

it’s why he didn’t have time to write a proper sermon for the morning mass. he was up all night, stroking himself — just, from the thought of you.

it was father geto’s turn to have uneven breaths as you asked if he was okay, hand on your shoulder shaking. but the visions of last night is overtaken quickly by his need to impress the other parishioners, and so he gives you a tense smile.

“enjoy the cake.” it sounded like an innuendo if you’ve ever heard one, but you mutter a soft thank you, before heading off back home with your family. that contact with your shoulder is all you can think of, giddy at the warmth of his hand and eyes.

“baby, could you open the door for me?” your mother calls out to you, hastily wiping her hands on her apron and abandoning the kitchen to tend to your crying baby brother.

“ok, mummy!” the doorbell’s been rung twice now, jogging a little to the door to prevent the person from waiting. you didn’t think to look through the peephole, a tight-knit (conservative) community made you trust anyone, opening the door to find father geto standing in front of you.

“o-oh. hi, father . .?”

he was dressed in his roman collar, a black shirt with a white strip around the neck and some black jeans. it wasn’t as casual as the first day, and it still held an ode to God even on a weekday.

“hi, (y/n).”

“ohhh! it’s father geto, come, come!” your mother bellows throughout the house, baby brother on her hip as she bounces him to get him to stop wailing. “are you hungry already?”

geto displays a meek smile, “a little, mrs (l/n), since you mentioned how big of a feast you were cooking.”

your mouth drops in recognition; was that why she was so preoccupied for the whole day? doing the maximum in the kitchen not just because it was for your father’s recent promotion at his job, but also for dinner with father geto.

“you’re having . . dinner with us.” it’s more of a statement to yourself than a question to the priest, but he still catches on and assists you by closing the door himself, and taking off his shoes. already, he looks part of the family, looking like a hard-working husband coming back from his job to you. instead, he’s answered the vocation of priesthood, and not matrimony.

“it looks like i am.” it’s such a sly comment, like he already knew the effect he had on everyone. this sucking up was just to get every church-goer to like him more, and it’s working.

geto is charming at the dinner table as he is at the parish, cracking jokes that make both your parents and you laugh, talking about his university life and telling a myriad of stories that he’s gone through.

“what did you major in in university, father?” it felt such a weird question, especially with an honorific attached to something that you were doing at the moment — it felt out of place that someone so close to your age was already pursuing a lifetime commitment of serving God.

“my studies focused mostly on philosophy and theology. i minored in linguistics.” there’s a chorus of ooh’s that echo throughout the table, cleaning up the last bit of food on his plate before he continued. “i’m currently going more in depth for latin, which is a stunning language, beyond those who say it’s dead and should stay dead.”

that only makes him hotter, and you cross your legs beside him, looking at him from the corner of your eye at you play with the last meatball on your plate. the sauce leaves a trail of red from the tomato, somehow mirroring the murder of your old self — or what you thought it was. it was more of a knife wound, a cowardly stab in the arm.

that dinner with father geto only deepened your sense of guilt.

it was the way the priest was quick to stand just as your mother does, offering to help with cleaning up the dinner table. even when she brushes him off, he insisted, answering for her when he only silently takes the plates to the back. all your mom does is shake her head with a smile, letting you help as well. your father just watches curiously, entertaining the baby with his canned alcohol.

“i’m embarrassed i can’t fight back against you well enough to stop ya from cleaning up at my own house,” your mother confesses, already having used her last breath to tell him to not help with the dishes as well. you scrub at a stain on geto’s plate over and over, a stubborn one at that until you finally are able to get it out. it still leaves a faint red glow, though.

“it’s nothing, really, mrs (l/n), i’m happy to help whenever.” father geto’s eyes rake over your figure as you clean alongside your mother, heel bouncing up and down; to non-existent music or in impatience he wasn’t sure.

she just takes the soapy plate from your hands with a laugh, “c’mon, it’s okay, my dear. go entertain father geto.”

it was the way his courtesy shined through when he doesn’t enter your room until he has gotten verbal confirmation from you, guiding him in with a uneasy hand as he looked around your quaint little space. it was filled with photos, some plants, tons of research papers and a messy table to match, but all he did was reassure you. you take note of his flowing hair and the laid back hairstyle he liked to don when it wasn’t for mass.

“how is university treating you?” you’re stuck on being completely honest and lying with every answer, but father geto has a face that makes it difficult to lie to.

“it’s . . alright, i guess,” you settle on your bed, crossing your legs and hoping he wouldn’t pick up any of your essays. thinking is manifesting, though, and his hands naturally go for the paper with the many red markings on the front page.

“Paradise Lost? by Milton?” ah. that paper. you shoot up from the sheets before he can read it, because frankly your thesis in that paper was weak and wasn’t well supported, but you still believed it deeply. you were just having a little bit of trouble straying from your reverence for God. you only manage to clutch the top of your paper, but geto is adamant on reading it, piqued by genuine curiosity.

“the retelling of Milton’s Paradise Lost humanises the experience of Satan’s (or Lucifer’s) fall from glory . .” he trails off, reading over your evidences and analysis. you feel like you’re being read like an open book, laid out bare for vultures to pick at and for God to enumerate your sins until you felt no shame.

with his head still tilted down, father geto has to look up through his lashes and bangs, seemingly making you cower more and more in your spot as the unsolicited advice for your essay dies down on his tongue. the size of his hands has you hypnotised, and he decides it’s against his own values to give feedback about a text he so childishly brushed off when he was in university, even if he had to read it to complete four years in the seminary. geto places a hand upon yours and the heat is dizzying; you can’t help but think if he was just normal person, instead, holding your hand like this.

it was the way he let you explain yourself a little better through your own words. it was a premature essay, anyway, made to test out your close reading and citation skills. but he found your interpretation of Milton’s poem to be much more insightful than he expected it to be — you think maybe, your understanding of the text grows the more you learn about your body, how you like to be pleasured; you feel like Lucifer.

“i . . don’t necessarily think you are born into evil. it’s multi-faceted and loaded, this question. God our Father would do anything but create evil willingly, it’s just unfortunate that the people that bring up their offspring contribute to the shaping of their identity and outcome.”

“then, how . .” your lips twist as you think of a way to word the question, “how would that justify evil existing? wouldn’t the fact that evil is developed somehow meant that God created evil in some shape or form, in the first place?”

father geto rushes to answer but—

“why did he have to create the serpent that tempted Eve in the first place? couldn’t he have just left them alone in Eden?”

“...there to dwell / In adamantine chains and penal fire / Who durst defy th' Omnipotent to arms.”

you frown, not expecting the other to answer but instead just wallowing in your thoughts. you never thought the talk with father geto would turn into some philosophy lesson, but the more you chatted with him on the bed, the more the conversation seemed to steer that way.

your own faith wavers in the night, a quietness settling over the two of you like a cloak of stars. the mass of each star weighs heavily with your questions up in the air until you faintly hear his answer.

“i don’t . . know, miss (y/n).”

“ah! no no— sorry to dump everything on you, father geto,” you scratch the back of your head, “it was just passing thoughts. i’ve never thought to think of this before.”

it was morbid, it was macabre. it was like looking over and seeing a skeleton in your place instead of flesh and skin and yet each question after question ignites something in him that no one has excited before. he can already feel lust influencing the other six, pumping through his veins at a life void of God, void of religion, a free place to think of the omnipotence of a higher being that no one was sure really existed.

“it’s okay . . it’s natural to ask. it’s natural to inquire. God,” he nods like he was in a trance; the word feels weird on his tongue, “God would want this.”

that night you did anything but sin, clutching the essay between your hands and digging your knees into the floor with elbows on your bed until they ached and you prayed. you wished blessings on your family, you wished blessings on the parishioners, you wished blessings on father geto and you wished eternal damnation on yourself.

there’s a heavy pull on your heart when you go to sleep a few minutes after and the dream you have of your body turning to soot and burning with each feet into flames makes you crave salvation all the more — like all a bad dream, it will be fine as long as you pray, and pray, and pray.

but the flesh desires what the heart denies: the more you ‘hang’ with father geto (by God, he was perfectly okay with that word when you let it slip to your mother. he merely throws up a peace sign in a ‘cool’ way and then immediately cringes, but it makes you laugh), the more you find yourself attracted to his morals, to his ideals, to the natural way in which he exists. he could speak for hours on end, voice sounding like birdsong and a chilling breeze all at the same time.

his voice did wonders in your head, as well, coaxing you into betraying your own code; and you betray it easily. that phantasmic voice leaving you to remove your top and pinching your nipples as soft little moans leave your mouth. the imaginary sway of his crucifix above your face while you harshly abuse your clit and dip a finger into you for the first time. the feeling is so foreign and weird that you shamelessly think of the slight lilt of his voice helping you: “it’ll feel better soon, (y/n). c’mon, finger your pussy for father geto.”

father geto had a natural talent for talking and preaching. that downturn of tone like hitting a dead-end when he holds a point above your head (“but”) and then resolves it into perfect cadence like chords ending a phrase when he proposes a solution (“God will take care of everything”). he does it so much you think he’s rather convincing himself more than he’s convincing you, though.

“perhaps this parable that Jesus uses tells us rather to look within ourselves, to look within the vineyard that is us. the owner have done everything: kept the roots tied so it would not be trampled, making sure they get all the sunlight and water it needs, yet . .” he pauses a little, looking at the almost full parish now that he’s won over the hearts of your town. his eyes flit down to you at the second pew, shooting you a quick smile.

“and yet he yields sour grapes. we pray, we act civil and diplomatic, we are giving, but are you truly doing it for the glory of God? is that maybe why we only get the sour grapes — not satisfied with the ‘thank you’ after doing a favour or silence from God after praying daily?”

geto looks over the last bits of the scribbled sermon, a little more coherent than last week, but still done with thoughts of you. there’s multiple smudges of his words that he has to squint and stutter a bit, caused by the frantic cleaning of his cum upon the paper.

“we all . . naturally expect things back, but to be Christian, to be a follower of Christ, we would have to abandon all thoughts of that.” father geto’s mind wanders to last night as his eyes look for you again. “we would need to be generous, to be kind without needing anything in return.”

father geto integrates into the church easily, shown in how his sermons capture the hearts of many. albeit, they never really take in the true meanings of the preachings he gives, but it’s enough for geto if they nod and mutter amen like fools in mass; whatever they do out of it is out of his hands.

but along the many preachings he does, there is one subject he fears approaching: lust, the one thing that threatens the downfall of his vocation and yet he cannot get enough of it. each walk and meeting with you only heightens his desire, makes his cock throb beneath his robes. each sunday he wishes he could split his soul in half — one as the confessor and one as the confessing — and repent in the confessional box.

“today’s gospel from Mark, chapter 6 talks about lust, briefly.” there’s a shake in his voice, eyes now scrambling over the congregation to find you in a much more revealing top contrasting with the out-of-place cardigan you have on. he’s sure it was mrs (l/n) that had made you put that on before you left the house; the house where he’s memorised the placement of your shoe rack and how your door creaks when it’s opened too quickly. geto is so fucked.

geto clears his throat before continuing, seeing you adjust your body for a moment, “King Herod is tempted by his flesh when he sees one of Herodias’ daughters dancing, so much so that she tempts him to commit murder. a clear beheading, just from giving into her body, and when she asks of him, he delivers like a dog. this calls us to truly think of the desires that we possess. they need not be sexual,” soft whispers emerge, a taboo subject, “they can also be related to money, to power.”

“lust for more things turns into greed when we act on that initial lust,” geto is sweating by now. he pulls lightly on his collar when you press your arms together in retaliation and he has to look away from the way your tits perk up so perfectly.

you had to know what you were doing, surely. partially — you were feeling cold, but you stifle a smile when you realise how geto’s eyes linger a little longer on you, or rather your chest, before he coughs and continues,

“when we are driven so terribly by the feeling that we abandon all morals just to please this person, thing on earth is when we tread into dangerous territory. no earthly possession must make you feel this way,”

the irony settles in his bones after he says it and his dick twitches at the thought of having you under the podium right now, sticking his fat cock down your throat while you struggle to keep the gagging noises to a minimum.

“no matter . .” a gulp, “how rewarding the aftermath must be.”

father geto knows you both are braving the edge of God’s merry kingdom. it is just a matter of who falls first.

“your place is in the kingdom of God, meant to fulfil eternal life with Jesus and the Lord which is what we all should be keeping in mind and working towards, ignoring all the distractions that will soon fade and die off.”

geto coughs again in the mic and breaths shakily, finally tearing his eyes away from you before he concludes the sermon and eases into the Offertory and Eucharist. he buries himself so deep in the procession in order to get you out of his mind, and it’s shown in the haste in which he carries the mass. it feels like he rushes so much that even the day outside follows too, because evening seems to arrive earlier than usual.

the sun sets outside, illuminating the altar. it taunts you like reminding you of the beauty of your faith; it deepens the need developing in your core.

“body of Christ.” you can faintly hear it being repeated over and over at the front, just a few steps away from your turn and you wish you weren’t standing behind your dad’s hulking figure so you could actually prepare yourself for father geto. you’re greeted with his cascading hair tied up into a bun and the cup containing Jesus’ body, gold and shining. you see your stretched reflection before your eyes snap back to the pastor in front and you will your hands not to hail routine.

instead, you stick out your tongue for the father to put the communion on and you take in the little panic of his hands and the choked sentence of body of Christ. his eyes drift down to your pink tongue, to the small twitch it does when he places the host on it and he cannot wait for you to get out of his sight, lest he be overtaken by the sin he particularly preached about just minutes ago.

“any test to study for tonight, darling?” your mother asks after dinner, meaning to ask after seeing you be so fidgety like you needed to be somewhere.

“uh . . no, not exactly, but i do have something i need to do.”

“oh! what is it, sweetie?” she doesn’t read your expressions, you mannerisms, so you were safe from that, but you willed your voice to not break. your body is on fire, you needed to quell your needs, now.

“just— i promised father geto i would meet him later for a confession, since he’s so busy, he could only propose a late timing,” no, you didn’t. either way, you give a reason, explain yourself before she can speculate, works every time.

“oh, okay . .” she trails off, seemingly unaffected, “just don’t get home too late, alright, darling?”

you nod even though she’s too focused on the dishes, pressing a hand to her back in thanks and she carries on, carefree, while you sprint to your room. lock the door, get your phone out.

“ . . ings turns into greed when we act on that initial lust . .” the words recorded just hours ago leave the phone speakers on a low volume, already lighting a flame in your pussy when your hand brushes over the microphone and he stops at the same time, “when we are terribly dri . .”

you sigh loudly when your hand starts to make its way down to your centre, rubbing slightly to the sound of his voice. your clit is just begging to be touched, begging for your inexperienced hands flicking your nub in every which way. impatient, your hands dip into your cunt and your jaw drops open at the intrusion of your fingers, just as your eyes widen and your imagination has never worked as well as it does now.

you can see geto’s amethyst eyes boring into yours, you can see his hips fucking into yours and yet it doesn’t give you the same kick as you think it would — you’re fucking yourself with your fingers even faster, circles on your clit increasing in speed and messiness and you smear your juices all around.

“father— father geto—” it was pathetic, the way you moaned for a man of God, but the feeling of your cunt clenching around what you wished was his dick was too good, the coil in your stomach still feeling rather uncomfortable but welcoming and you’re unravelling with a silent scream soon, back arching off the sheets.

“s . . suguru, f-fuck,” the swear word feels weird on your lips, as with his first name, but the trembling of your virgin body is so delicious that you just keep rubbing and rubbing, taking so long to come down from your high as your pants get heavier and heavier. and then his face starts to fade off, eyes turning into lilac air and you’re glancing towards the crumpled essay on your bed with guilt festering in your chest.

“ . . mptations of the flesh are childish, are temporary. they lead you to do foolish things that have no place in the kingdom of God. we may repent and put it past us but the memories that our tainted bodies possess, they remember the sinful things that you did.” the recording of father geto dies out as with his powerful conclusion, speaking so loudly into the mic that it screeches with feedback, you remember. you don’t even know where the guilt builds up from, in your torso and your heart, despite questioning the faith you were in for all your life.

if God did not want us to sin, why did he create temptations and ask us to pray for forgiveness?

you roll over and remove your fingers with a small whine, taking up your phone and opening up the contact with father geto hesitantly. it was meant to be a strictly professional exchange like the conversations he’d had with many other parishioners: updates on the church, changes in mass timings, but your chat was filled with questions from you and answers from him. you didn’t dare ask him anything out of the faith.

[9:37 pm, delivered]: uhm. father geto? are you there?

oh god, it’s you. the you who on the second walk around the town exchanged numbers with him because he found your thoughts so intriguing.

[9:39 pm, read]: Yes, Miss (Y/N). What is it?

you take a deep breath. better to ask for that confession, you couldn’t risk your mother asking about it tomorrow.

[9:40 pm, delivered]: is it alright to have

[9:41 pm, delivered]: can i come over to the church, for a bit

father geto straights up in the rectory, getting closer to the socket where his phone was charging and hovers over the screen. his hands are clammy when typing a response and he manages it in about three minutes.

[9:44 pm, read]: Of course, my dear. The doors of the church are open for the congregation at any time.

bidding goodbye to your mother, you stay on the lit path to the church and you’re bathing in anticipation, too excited to see father geto that you bump into a dark shadow. almost resembling a hard wall, hands emerge from its sides to clutch at your biceps.

“miss (y/n), what is it? what has gotten you up so late at night?” if he was still in university, he would’ve laughed at how he asked that question. hundreds of texts of u up? that mimic the nature of the question right now.

“i was hoping . .” you ignore the tingly feeling of the way in which his hands leave goosebumps along your biceps and then to your forearms. finally, they clutch your hands between his, meant to be like a warm hug but instead is like fire, licking at your fingers and wrist like you’re at the stake. “i was hoping that i could, request you for a confession?”

the priest across you swallows with a nod, swiftly putting a hand across your back to lead you to the booth. you both could’ve done it perfectly fine in the pews, sitting across each other. “the confessional is where we will feel the strongest compulsion of Christ. come,” he answers your question before you can ask it, “take your place on the kneeler behind the curtains.”

father geto showers in the same sea of anticipation when he makes sure you’re okay before heading over to his side of the confessional. he’s imagined this scene over and over — you on the pew kneeler, breath warming the velvet curtains — he cannot help the bulge that forms.

the first words he speak behind the curtain shock you, voice sounding so close yet so muffled and distant.

“come, now, (y/n), make the Sign of the Cross with me.”

Father, Son and Holy Spirit

upon your head, chest and shoulders you do it, taking a deep breath before you start. “bless me, father, for i have sinned. it has been . . about five years since my last confession.”

geto nods, the soft carry of your voice in the late night having an effect on the priest. the hold he has on the crucifix of the rosary is so tight it makes an indent on his skin, the only thing on mortal flesh to keep him from falling.

“What though the field be lost? All is not lost; the unconquerable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield.”

your thighs rub together, hot breath sending chills down your clutched hands and down your arm as you ponder over the things you’ve done — “i’ve . . lied to my mother at times, to my friends when they ask me where i’m from. i have stolen money for my own needs, n-not— that high of an amount but um . . still a fair amount.”

“what did you need to buy, sweetheart?”

the name surprises you, but you simply ignore it. “i wanted new clothes — was all the rave at uni when the girls wore miniskirts and little tops. unfortunately it didn’t suit me.”

geto swears under his breath when the image of you in such skimpy clothing infiltrate his thoughts. his curiosity overtakes him; overwhelmed with emotion, he never had the chance to see what you were wearing before he pulls back the curtains and hopes your eyes are closed and they are: pulled tight with quivering eyebrows. there, like a sinning Christian is you in a thin camisole, cleavage showing beneath your arms. he peers lower, gasps softly to himself when you’re wearing a skirt.

“father? father, what’s wrong?” you think you hear the swift swoosh and the rings of the miniature curtain clatter.

“n—nothing is wrong, miss (y/n). are there any other sins you want to confess?”

you swallow, “i . . i’ve wished misfortune on my father.”

not the sin he was hoping for but he wasn’t surprised; his head moves in understanding. he had seen your father — merely a ghost in the house and hardly contributing to fostering the family. it goes against what Mary and Joseph stands for as the Holy Family, but father geto has seen a lot of absent fathers and incompetency to truly be taken aback anymore.

“i’ve also . . i’m not sure whether to tell you this, father geto.”

your breaths were all you could hear in the silence of the church, an eerie quietness settling as if the critters and animals of the earth strived to listen to your ultimate sin, too. Beelzebub, Asmodeus, possibly even Lucifer himself clawed themselves up from hell to eavesdrop.

“of course you can, my dear.” the wind through the wooden confessional box sounds like the hisses of the three demons, like they have had holy water sprayed on them from the mere sounding of his voice; but they look hopefully for a server of Christ to fall exactly like they did.

“it’s, related to my body, father. i,” gulping, you continue with a prompt from the other, “i’ve had this growing need, like, one has when they’re hungry. they have the need to fill their stomachs. or— or a sudden pain you have to massage yourself through, like a cramp in the arm of sorts.”

“well . . is it your torso or your arm?”

“it’s . .” you spare a glance towards your centre under your very, very short skirt, the familiar pulsing of your clit turning more and more prominent. “it’s related to my pussy, father.”

you hear a choke from the other side, and then you realise your choice of words.

“ah— m-my bad! i meant my . . vagina, father geto.”

“no— no u-uhm, the previous term was fine. could you describe what you did? how far did you go so i c-can . . give you the appropriate penance?”

behind the curtains, geto have already started palming his bulge, massaging the ache in his length that still continues to grow and harden. the way you describe is so terribly innocent and unknowing, a deepening urge to corrupt you running through his veins.

“i played with um— my breasts, first. i pulled up my top and felt around my nipples, but i got impatient and . .” geto hangs on to every word of yours, shifting to get his robes out of the way. it was just like the first night: his underwear stained with so much pre-cum it’s probably changed the colour of the garment. he peels it away and the lack of restraint leaves him sighing softly while you ramble on—

“i tried playing with that . . thing between my legs.” you recall the quick google search from that first night, “i played with my clit, father.”

geto stifles a groan into his hand just as he starts to stroke himself softly. “y . . yeah, and?”

“i tried to um . . fit my finger in. it was uncomfortable, at first,” you cannot ignore the pull of your core; your hand shimmies past the clasped hands and down to your skirt. you have no panties to swipe to the side: you came here without any. your finger rubs gently at the throbbing bundle of nerves, a soft whine leaving your lips before you remember you’re in the midst of a confession.

“but i . . i got it into my pussy soon enough. and then i put in another finger.” there was a more audible grunt from the other side, the confessional weirdly heating up immensely as you follow your confession: two fingers easily glide in from just how wet you were.

“when?” there’s a strain in father geto’s voice when he asks it, maybe because he was trying so hard to keep quiet. his jaw is locked as he pumps his cock slowly because his tip is leaking so much that even a simple movement would give him away.

“w-wha—?”

“w-when did you first start . . touching your pussy, (y/n)?” hearing a priest say such a lewd word makes you clench around your fingers.

“after you came to deliver t-that chocolate cake . . father geto.”

“f-fuck—” geto squeezes his eyes shut and it’s like he’s a university student again losing his virginity for the first time by the hands of some random chick pumping him. the implied confession has him stroking faster; it was after that trip he made to your house, it was after seeing you stand at the door like a good little girl, it was because of him, right? right?

you snap back the curtains and your mouth waters at the scene: father geto hunching over the little window that separates the two of you and his head hung low; his cassock gathers around his hips and his cock— good Lord, his cock was so big, clutched tightly between his left hand. his tip was weeping, an angry red as it continued to push out globs of pre.

“f-father!” geto doesn’t seem to care, giving you a drunk and nonchalant glance as he continues to stroke his shaft. he knows it’s wrong, doing this in the house of the Lord but it feels so fucking good. “y-you—”

you’re at a loss for words, pointing to his exposed bottom, but even though you’re speaking out against him, you can’t help but follow his hand as it moves up and down like a spell. his eyes are simply pleading, hips bucking up and you would think he was a parishioner instead. shaking in the presence of God, in the presence of you—

you stick your hand past the squeezy window, drawing his interest and before you know it you’re blindly bumping into his erection. there, he silently grabs your hand, guiding it to his shaft. he uncomfortably leans down to look at your face, eyebrows still furrowed but your tongue stuck out and his dick twitches in your hand.

“s-shit, baby . .” geto swears under his breath, and again when you pull on his dick to the window. uncomfortably his body lightly slams against the partition, a soft thud coming from the booth as his head collides with the wood, “(y/n) . .”

he can’t see you, but he can hear you. “may i, father geto?”

you don’t wait for his answer, gauging mainly from the heavy breaths coming from above you. they really do need to change the confessional, too, because you can clearly hear every word he mumbles out from the holes in the partition.

“shiiit—” when you kitten lick his tip, collection the pre-cum that continues to leave his tip, and it feels better than his Rite of Ordination and when he finally got to host his first mass. it’s better than that prophetic dream he has of God calling him to serve Him and the churches in the city with church-goers of boring faces and predictable stories.

here was a rural place, a place where he never expected such a pretty girl to practice the Christian faith, only to falter in the presence of a pastor. he’s gotten such a cute little slut to corrupt. you start to bob your head slowly, unsure of what to do apart from putting his cock on your mouth. your teeth grazes his skin a little and he hisses.

“no teeth. suck in your cheeks,” he cannot see you but he wishes he can, and he knows you listen to his advice when he feels only the smooth glide of your mouth and he wishes it was your pussy that you fingered.

“going deeper, darling,” geto grunts when he pushes his cock past your mouth and into your throat, the sweet gag you do making him dig his forehead deeper into the uneven wooden partition. he can hear your struggling sounds, the muffled moans with his cock down your cavern. but he cannot go any longer without seeing you and reluctantly he pushes you off, still holding your hand and you seem to catch his drift soon enough.

you’re as eager as him, bouncing off the kneeler and leaving your side of the booth, and you’re opening the door to his. the reality of the situation fully sinks in, geto standing there with his cock dripping with your saliva and your camisole pulled down under your tits.

“oh . . baby,” geto coaxes you into him, under a little spell of his when you trail in a light as a feather. you don’t resist his hands pushing you down to your knees, and just like earlier, you’re sticking your tongue out and the priest looks at you from under hooded lids.

“did you touch yourself to me, little girl?” it comes out stronger than intended but you seem to like it, even when your answers are cut off by him slapping his tip on your tongue. it’s so heavy, his cock, and thick too that you can help but suckle on it when you get the opportunity.

“ever since that day, father geto.” you look drunk, swirling your tongue around the tip and continuing to talk, “i . . i imagine you above me and sometimes i dangle my crucifix thinkin’ it’s yours.”

a small laugh escapes the priest. “did you now?” it’s reminiscent of the time where you praise his sermon. his laugh is cut off as you continue to suck him off, hands still confused. he helps you by bringing your hands to the places you can’t reach and you follow like second nature. “dirty fucking slut, aren’t you?”

“i promise i didn’t know anything before this . . father.” you look up at him through your lashes, big doe eyes proving every last bit of your innocence. aht, partially. you did watch a video of this chick blowing her boyfriend, cumming with your own fingers in your throat, wishing it was geto’s cock in your mouth instead.

but having a real cock in your mouth? it was divine, better than the body of Christ in melting on your tongue. your ministrations speed up, the obscene noises of you gurgling reverberating in the wooden box late at night. it would be even worse at the altar where it would echo everywhere.

“y—yeah, baby, that’s it, that’s it . .” his eyes are shut tight, intoxicated on the way your warm mouth feels. you whine into his shaft, tears forming at the corners of your eyes from how deep he was in you.

“mmf— mmph!” your moans sends vibrations up his body, interrupted when geto thrusts his hips into your mouth suddenly and your nose meets with his pubes, eyes rolling back from the muskiness of his body. it smells like incense and sweat, filling your senses as he keeps you right up to his hilt.

“ohh . . fuckfuck fuucck—!” the father pulls you off to let you breathe, pleasantly surprised when you start pumping him violently, tongue stuck out again. there’s a hint of light from the outside that highlights the pinkness of your tongue and he’s never wanted to cum this badly before.

“i’m cumming— baby, baby, i’m g’nna c-cum—” there’s a long, drawn out whine from father geto upon feeling the warmth of your hands stroking his cock so obediently, resting his tip on your tongue where you’d willingly drink his cum like wine. geto shoots his load into your mouth and is the loudest he’s ever been; he doesn’t care who hears him, he doesn’t care if he gets transferred out tomorrow, all he wants to think about is you on your knees and your nipples hardened from confessing to him. he’d like to bet that your pussy was drooling too, hips bucking into the soft skin of your hands.

some of his cum gets onto your face and on your lips, and geto almost cums again when you use his tip to smear his seed around your face, sucking lightly on his tip.

“dirty girl . .” he pulls on your biceps to bring you up, and your lips meet instantaneously like you were meant to be separated for eternity, doomed only to meet for one day a year. it’s messy and sloppy, drool drips from your sides of your mouths as your lips merge together.

“was that your first kiss, baby?” father geto can tell by how you don‘t know how to follow his lead, teeth clashing and breathing uneven.

“am i that obvious?” you frown, feeling self-conscious, but geto is quick to reassure you.

“father geto’s going to teach you everything you need to know, alright?” he brings you in with a finger to your chin, hovers over your lips like a tease.

he teaches you everything you want to know and more, like how the front of the church looks like and how cold the marble of the altar feels against your back as he eats you out and the sensations are all too much for you. he teaches you that using God’s name in vain is alright when it comes to moaning out how good he makes you feel and how your penance is whatever he makes it out to be he teaches you how you can take not one, not two, but three fingers up your pussy.

they’re so much thicker than your own, one hand pushing on your shaking thighs to keep them open while his three fingers move in and out of you. you’re leaking so much, your virgin cunt dripping like holy water down the white marble and onto the matching marble floor.

he teaches you his first name and he makes sure you say it.

“su—suguru . . god, r-right there—” he latches his mouth onto your clit, suckling and flicking his tongue impatiently because he just wants to see you cum. your legs stretch out to knock over a candelabra and the clatter of the metal against the ground is enough to wake up a whole village but you. don’t. care.

your hips grind onto his tongue, feeling the borderline painful stretch of his thick fingers in you but they reach all the right spots that you can’t find it in you to care.

“you taste so good—” geto spits onto your cunt and goes back to sucking on your clit, “pussy’s so fuckin’ sweet, holy fuck.” your noises come out of you non-stop as you bury your hands in his hair, finally knowing what you sound like in an unrestrictive space under the apse.

father geto teaches you how to take a cock up your cute, tight pussy, not bothering for a condom when basically all of your clothes have been discarded throughout the night. it’s almost midnight and your mother have fallen asleep on the couch, unaware her sweet, sweet daughter is losing her virginity in the place she was baptised, where she got her first communion.

the first push into your drenched cunt is painful, mushroom tip stretching you out slightly as you clutch tightly onto his forearm, brows knitted together at the girth of his cock.

“been wanting . . to fuck this pussy so bad, baby,” geto grunts it out, obsessed with how his length slowly disappears into you. he can feel each ridge of your gummy walls, hugging him so snugly that there’s several moans that leave his lips, “have you been— thinking ’bout this as much as i h-have?”

your jaw stretches beyond your limit when he eases himself inch by inch into you, thanking the hells below that your vision was finally coming true. above you there’s that same crucifix, sterling silver with amethyst stones embedded into the design, you remember, catching the light of the lone spotlight above the both of you. there’s a similar glint in father geto’s purple eyes.

“all the time, father—” you moan out, pulling him by his necklace to your lips that are more experienced now, each minute that passes is one more atom of your body turning black from the fire that licks at you from below the altar. you kiss the lips of your parish priest, whimpering slightly when his hips buck and you feel the stretch more clearly now.

“is this what Isaac felt when Abraham tried to bind him for a sacrifice on Moriah? helpless, confused, betrayed?”

geto lets out a hum, sucking hickeys into your neck and you think it’s a million times better than questioning a God that never showed himself, who never really had the intentions of the people in mind, who created sin to watch the downfall of men while he enjoys his time in his kingdom.

if this was what was meant by losing yourself to your devils, you would gladly shake hands with Lucifer and hope the warmth of the fire in hell would be a hug warmer than any hug you’ve received by people of the Christian faith.

“well, baby, do you feel helpless?” thrust “confused,” thrust “and betrayed?” thrust

he punctures each word with a snap of his hips and the pain gives way to pleasure and soon he’s already lost in the comfort of your pussy, hips starting a pace easily that emphasises just how wet you are. the echoes of your weeping cunt and the lewd slapping of his balls into your ass is like the bell ringing during mass, loud, resonating, it shakes your whole body.

“mmfuck . . helpless, m-maybe,” you whine out, legs wrapping around his back, “confused, n-not— suguruuu, yesyesyes!”

you try again, “n-not really. betrayed . .”

you feel like a sacrifice, but it was willing, of a confession that has led to this lewd showing of just how much the temptations of the flesh were insanely undeniable. there’s a murmur of i don’t think i can last much longer into your ear, cock driving into your tight pussy so harshly you’re hoping the small altar doesn’t move.

“b-betrayed, i think—” you squeal when father geto angles his hips up and it kisses your cervix just nicely, sending multiple chills down your body. your moans penetrate the holy air, hair splayed out like a painting and geto knows this is better than any Eucharist he’s ever tasted.

you clench around his fat cock, and he twitches, switching to short, pathetic thrusts into your pussy and he cries out your name as he cums deep in you, giving you all of his seed deep in your womb. your breath catches in your throat at the feeling of your first load, the warmth already hooking you in and you pull so hard on his hair he has no choice but to follow your hand.

you let him handle you deep into the night, taking you off the altar and pushing you up against it, entering you again and you brace yourself against the marble.

“s-sorry, sweetheart, you were saying?” he also wants to apologise that he hadn’t made you cum just yet, but your pussy’s so fucking heavenly he just has to be in you again.

“i-i feel a little betrayed,“ you sag over the altar, back arching into his hold. father geto is fixated on the movement of your ass fucking back onto him, “that a priest would break his m-marriage to God for me.”

“i thought they were supposed to be men of God,” you barely manage to form sentences. geto’s laugh at that startles you, as with the hand grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling. payback. you love it, however, a sweet Christian girl turned into a slut, and the last bits of the thread unravels when father geto reaches around to rub your clit.

“’m gonna— cum, suguru—” you whine out, body turning to mush with how hard he rams into your pussy. by now there’s a ring of white around the base of his cock, your juices slowly starting to coat it, too and Lucifer succeeds at sin yet again.

you cannot blame Eve when the serpent is as beautiful and cunning as geto suguru, nor can you blame her when his thick cock just reaches so deep into you, tip kissing your sweet spots and his hand impatiently drawing messy circles on your bundle of nerves.

“that just makes it the best though, right?” geto breathlessly says, “a holy man fucking a virgin raw in a holy place where prayers are said.” your legs are spreading further and further, his sweaty body engulfs yours, you’re dizzy, “you’re too tempting, sweet girl. tempting enough for me to want to abandon priesthood just so i can be buried in this pussy for fucking eternity.”

and you cum, head and heart going a hundred miles per hour as your body trembles in his hold. “there we go, little slut, thereee we go . .” you can feel the chill of the sterling silver into your back and his smile before he orgasms a second time into your waiting pussy, a second, heavy load let go into your pussy. it’s so warm and filling, and you already want more, more, more.

lust for more things turns into greed when we act on that initial lust.

“aw,” father geto coos at your fucked out face, flipping you around to give you a sloppy kiss and forcing himself to his knees just to watch his cum drip out of you, “does she want more?”

“always, father.” you answer with a drunken smile, putting a leg on his shoulder. again, your finger hooks around his crucifix, and you drag the priest down deeper into hell, somewhere father geto would‘ve always ended up.

somewhere where he would renounce his priesthood and worship something, and someone: you.

“Better to reign in Hell, then serve in Heav'n.”

a/n: LOOOONG MAN WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS. also i put the author’s note at the bottom this time bc i wanted to format of the fic to look the best without my goofy words ruining it! hope you guys liked it :) / tagging @crysugu @omgeto @kazushawty @suguruplsr @hydrovillette @slttygeto @hyomagiri @jabamin

part two ✶

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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months

Text

trust me, kiddo

words: 1.2k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, dddne (tagging just in case), drowning, head dunking, suffocation, noncon/dubcon, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mention of fingering, use of kid/kiddo/slut/whore/bitch, dom/sub dynamics, aftercare

your hands try to get some sort of grasp on the smooth marble counter, eyes glossed over as you look in the mirror over your shoulder.

rafe smirks when he sees your eyes on him, forcing his hips even faster as you grip the edge of the sink, fingers digging into the porcelain so hard you're worried it'll break.

“p-please.” you manage to force out, body shaking every time rafe pushes his cock all the way inside you, so deep at this angle.

“please what kid?” rafe questions, his voice deep and hoarse from fucking you, having walked in on you naked in the bathroom, bathtub filled with warm water, ready for you to soak in. “please stop? please keep going?”

“i… i don't know.” you admit. rafe pumping his cock into you certainly feels good, but at the same time you're so overwhelmed with pleasure, sure that your legs are soon to give out, even with rafes hands on your hips, helping you stay standing.

“already dumb on my cock baby?” rafe laughs. “but i just started fucking you!”

it's somewhat true, rafe has only been inside you for a few minutes now, but he's been teasing you all day, fingering you just to stop right before your orgasm, letting you ride his thigh only to push you off before you could reach your high.

“i can't.” you whine, feeling your knees wobble.

“you better, bitch.” rafe grunts, cock digging so deep inside of you that you swear he's bruising your cervix with every thrust.

you try, holding it together only for a few more seconds before your legs crumple, sending you to the ground, rafes cock slipping out of your wet hole. you land on your hands and knees on the cold white tile.

“baby.” rafe groans, his tone anything but sweet, the bite of anger in his voice.

“im sorry.” you whine. “it was too much.”

rafe grabs your waist, dragging you across the floor until you can put your hands on the side of the tub. you try to push yourself up to standing, but your tired legs don't get your knees off the floor.

“jesus, kid.” rafe grabs a towel so he doesn't bruise his knees and drops it onto the floor, having to kneel behind you to continue. “who knew edging you would make you this fucking weak.”

“im sorry.” you call out again, hoping rafe won't punish you.

“yeah, shut up princess.” rafe groans, hands coming to grip your ass, pulling on your plump skin to get a good view of your cunt, already turning a shade of red from his abuse, dripping with wetness.

rafe plunges his cock inside, immediately using the same harsh pace like your body never just gave up.

“so nice and tight for me.” rafe groans, one hand sliding up to the back of your head, the other staying firmly on your ass. “let's see if you can get even tighter.”

you're confused for a moment, about to ask what he means when the hand on your head pushes down, your face plunging into the water before you can take a breath.

you immediately thrash at the sudden loss of oxygen, body working on autopilot as you try to push against rafes hand, but he's too strong, holding you in the water until you swear you're seconds from passing out, when he finally lets you back up.

you take a deep breath before coughing, hair now dripping wet as his cock continues to pound into you.

“felt so good to have you squeezing around me like that.” rafe groans, bending over your body as his hand turns your head, bearing your cheek for him to press a kiss to.

“rafe.” you whine, tears falling down your cheeks along with the water from the bath.

“shh, couple more times baby. yeah? you'll do that for me? ill make sure you won't pass out.” rafe coos. you're not sure how he will be able to tell when it's too long, but you know his reaction to being told no isn't worth it, so you simply nod your head and turn your head back down, body now racking with sobs.

you take a deep breath this time before rafe shoves your head back under the water, cunt tightening around his cock when you lose your breath, still thrusting into you rapidly while you struggle to not take an instinctive gulp of the air.

rafe pulls on your hair, hovering your face back over the water as you gasp and sputter, but he doesn't give you much time to regain your breath before shoving your head back under the water.

you thrash again, legs wobbling as water seeps into your mouth, uncontrollably clenching around rafes cock, wishing you didn't so he couldn't get the pleasure he so sickly wanted, but you couldn't help it.

“good girl, shh.” rafe pulls your head up as you cry loudly, pussy still dripping despite rafe cutting off your air.

“one more, okay kiddo? make me cum.” rafe waits a few moments, giving you time to prepare before shoving your head under the water again, your hands gripping at the edge of the tub as you quake, cunt pulsating around rafes swelling cock, signaling just how close he is.

you can hear rafes loud moans from under the water as he gives a few more final punishing thrusts before pressing his hips into your ass, cumming lodged as deep within you as he can, keeping your head under while your cunt milks him.

you're seconds from blacking out, spots overtaking your vision as he finishes with a slap on your ass.

rafe pulls your head out and tugs on your hair so you aren't hovering over the tub. you collapse on the floor, hacking coughs and spitting out water.

“told you that you wouldn't pass out.” rafe smirks down at you from his kneeled position.

“i almost did.” you whine.

“but you didn't. you gotta trust me kid.” rafe leans down, scooping you into his arms before moving to place your body gently in the tub. you sink into the warm water, sighing as your body relaxes.

“want daddy to finger you?” rafe asks. you're surprised, he doesn't usually offer to get you off if you didn't cum, probably his way of partly apologizing for almost drowning you, even if he isn't actually sorry.

“no, will you get in with me though?” your pussy is sore and tired, but you do need rafes love and attention after the intense session.

“aw, does my baby need some aftercare?” rafe coos, but when you scooch forward in the tub, he steps in so you can cuddle up to his chest, his hands stroking over your body gently.

“was it really that good?” you ask after a few minutes of silence.

“yeah, you got so tight and to see you all vulnerable for me,” rafe nods. “real hot.”

“maybe…” your voice is quiet as you drag your finger over rafes thigh. “maybe you could try choking me sometime.”

“yeah, you would like that wouldn't you dirty slut?” rafe chuckles.

“stoppp.” you whine, turning around to pout at rafe, who pulls you in even closer.

“oh shush, you like it when i talk to you this way.” rafe presses his lips against yours, taking your mouth in a kiss. “my little whore.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk

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lovelettersfromluna · 7 months

Text

⋆｡˚☾ Silver Springs☽˚｡⋆

Summary: A step by step guide on how not to get over Ellie fucking Williams

an: AHHHH!! Here it is you guys! I wanna start off by thanking every single one of you for all the support not only did the first part of this series receive, but how much support my return received! I missed you all so so much and I’m so happy you’re enjoying this series just as much as I am enjoying writing it! I had some trouble tagging a few if you guys, as it wasn’t allowing your users to show up, so I really do apologize about that :( if any of you would like to dm me so we can solve it, feel free! I hope you all enjoy the second part to this series, and so much more is in store for this one! So stick around 🖤🖤🖤

Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+, MDNI, Alcohol and Marijuana usage, jealous!Ellie, slight asshole!Ellie, cheating, oral r!receiving, edging, fingering r!receiving, pet names, kissing, let me know if I missed anything!!

You can read part 1, here!

Tag list: @eveshyper @mattm1964 @teawithnosugar @macaroni676 @ximtiredx @gold-dustwomxn @mina-281 @aethelwyneleigh27 @abbysmainbitch @lil-elliesgf @franreadss @fairyysoiree @r3wbeef @liizzygrant @elliewilliamsgf69 @mabelle-cherie @cauliflowerpatch @forelliesposts @lunasolac @nil-eena @pillowprincessleia @pedropascalsbbg @ellieswifeyy @lesbiantothemoonandback @dummysimp011 @miniaturebananadefendor @sweetpumpkins @thesmutconnoisseur @miksde @delicategirlie

Ellie had always been possessive.

Over anything, really. Over her father, or her favorite forest green hoodie, or the bracelets you two made for each other when you were both in middle school. If it was hers in any way, there was a pretty good chance that she’d be possessive over it.

She was also, very possessive over you.

You never really noticed, mainly because she’s usually extremely discreet about it. Often time, it’ll go unnoticed by those around her, because Ellie knows not to make a scene over someone tugging you along to ride home with them after a party, or to have you stay in their bed instead of hers. And she only does it because you’re her best friend, not theirs. They shouldn’t be trying to take you anyways.

Yeah. That was the only reason.

So the shock you felt when she acted the way she did in front of Alex was something you’d never really seen before. Sure, your best friend had a temper. You couldn’t count on your hands how many times you had to talk down a very drunk Ellie from fighting some idiot jock because they told her she couldn’t beat them at arm wrestling, but that was stupid party banter. What happened at the beginning of class? That was just unwarranted.

And as much as you hoped it was simply Ellie being in a mood that morning, that wasn’t the end of it.

After that day in class, you and Alex grew nearly inseparable. You showed her around to all of her classes, she followed you to the library to study, and to the cafe to have lunch, she even ended up coming back to your apartment to play video games one night when your study session ran past the opening hours of the campus library. Days had gone by, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, Alex had almost fully taken Ellie’s spot as your best friend.

But then again, Sofia took your spot too.

That was another thing, what used to be like pulling teeth to see your best friend after she had gotten herself a girlfriend, had suddenly taken a drastic change.

After the first initial situation with Alex, Ellie was suddenly almost always in the picture.

It first started with the text messages. When Ellie first started dating Sofia, there were only a few messages here and there, a few stupid tiktoks sent between one another, and the less than frequent plans that you’d try to make with each other that would almost always be cancelled due to last minute plans Ellie ended up making with Sofia.

Now? Now Ellie would text you all the time. She’d send you video after video telling you what kind of cat you were, or which season you were, and she’d make sure to never miss out on sending you pictures of her homework, asking you if it looked good enough to submit, and she was constantly trying to make more plans with you. It was just like how things were before Sofia, back when it was just you, and Ellie, and the little traditions that you and her had every weekend.

Only it wasn't just like those times...now she was...so much more.

It made things a bit awkward when you were studying with Alex one afternoon, the silence of you and her falling comfortably between the both of you as you simply scribbled notes in your books, enjoying each others company, when suddenly your phone went off. It was a message from Ellie.

Waddup dorrrrk

U busy tonight?

You frown softly as you look up from your phone, catching a glimpse of Alex's face as she types away at her computer before you looked back down at your phone, typing out a response to Ellie.

Yeah

prob gonna head home after this and sleep

wya?

library

lemme come pick you up then

no thats okay. Im with Alex

You stare down at your phone as you await a response from Ellie. you see her little chat bubble pop up, stay for a moment, and then disappear. It does this for a minute or two, and you know she's struggling to find the right words to say. She always does this whenever she doesn't know exactly what to respond with

u know Alex is a prick right?

what makes you say that?

she just is

mmm

good to know

ditch her for me

im not gonna do that

where's Sof?

at her dorm

cool

well I'll catch you later Ellie

Ellie never responded after that

and thats how things were for the most part. You would spend your time with Alex, and Ellie would try her best to intervene between that time that you spent with her. Whether it was swooping in and trying to pull you away from Alex while you were walking together, or blowing up your phone whenever she knew you were together, she’d make herself known.

And you still had that damn party to go to that following weekend

You let out a soft sigh as you stared at yourself in the mirror. Your hands came up, smoothing down the clothes that you had on. The strapless black top you wore hugged your middle perfectly, a contrast to the usual baggy, comfy clothes you wore, and the denim jeans hung low on your hip, hugging your curves perfectly. Your hair was styled, and your makeup was done, but you couldn’t help but pout softly at yourself, turning around and eyeing yourself in the mirror, shaking out your hair, pursing your lips together before releasing them.

God….you really didn’t wanna go to this party.

And you were very close to cancelling. You already had your excuse thought up too, you were going to text Ellie and tell her that you had come down with a cold, and that you couldn’t make it out tonight, that you’d catch her and Sofia at the next one.

But she was already pulling you aside after class to make sure you were going.

You were walking out of your last class for the day, the idea of the party on your mind the entire afternoon. You didn’t want to deal with Ellie, as bad as that sounded. She had been so weird ever since you and Alex became friends, and it bothered you how clingy she had suddenly become now that your time was suddenly taken up by someone else.

She was being possessive, and childish, and it wasn’t your job to make her feel better about you having other friends or apologizing for the fact that you were finally moving on-

“Hey! Hey wait up!” The familiar voice called out from behind you, and it almost made you wince. Ellie’s footsteps grew closer and closer as she ran behind you to catch up. You almost wanted to put your headphones on, a silent gesture that you didn’t want to deal with any of Ellie’s antics in that moment.

But she was still your best friend

You gave a tired smile once she finally catches up with you, and you can see the way her eyes twinkle the second she’s looking down at you. You figure it’s because she’s catching you on a rare moment when you’re not with Alex.

“There you are…” She mumbles softly, and you’re sure that if you weren’t so annoyed with her recent behavior, you’d be swooning over how fucking good she looked. Despite the fall weather, it was a bit warmer that day, so she opted for a loose fitted white t shirt, her signature baggy blue jeans, and of course her favorite rings. Her brown hair was tucked into a loose bun, and she wore a backwards faded maroon colored baseball cap.

Once again, Ellie Williams was a fucking dream.

“Here I am…” you mumble awkwardly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear before you watch her, prompting her to get out whatever it was that she needed to talk about. Instead, she simply stares for a bit, seemingly taking in your appearance for a moment before she hums softly.

“No Alex today?” She questions, looking around to see if she just missed her. You could hear that tone in her voice, the one that was hopeful for a specific answer from you. You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head as you push past the doors of the building that lead to the campus courtyard. “She left early to run some errands” you explain, a soft frown on your face as you catch the familiar smug smirk of triumph on your best friends lips.

“You know she isn’t that bad, right? I think you two would get along…you have a lot in common” you tried, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you looked up at Ellie.

It was true, Ellie and Alex were extremely similar. In the time that you’d been spending with Alex, there were frequent moments where you felt like you were with Ellie. Certain things she said or did, or the type of jokes she’d make, or the music she listened to. Hell, they even dressed similarly, you were sure that if they gave each other a shot, they’d become just as close, if not closer than you were with either of them.

Or should you rather say, if Ellie gave her a chance.

Your words make Ellie scoff, the girls veiny hands shoving into her pockets as she strolled along with you. “Get along? Yeah fuckin right…I’d rather drag my bare ass along the concrete than hang out with that moron” she huffed out, her words making you scrunch your nose in disgust at the vivid picture she was painting for you, meant to express her distaste for the girl.

“But why? You really don’t have any reason to hate her, Els…because she sat in your seat? You don’t even sit there anymore…” you mumbled the last part of your comment under your breath, your eyes trailing down towards your feet as you frown softly, thinking back to the times before Alex showed up. How lonely it was sitting alone, walking to and from classes by yourself, spending the weekends cooped up in your home with nothing to do, no one to talk to.

Ellie frowned with you, her own green eyes zeroing in on the ground similarly to the way you did as she found herself deep in thought. It confused her too, why it bothered her so much. When you’d ask, her excuse was that she just felt Alex was bad news, and that she didn’t want anyone taking advantage of you or ruining your friendship with her.

That was always her excuse.

She inhaled deeply, replacing her frown with a bright smile, almost as if she were trying to distract you from your question before she changed the subject entirely. “Do you know what you’re gonna wear tomorrow? I heard this parties gonna be fuckin dope” she breathed out, turning towards you and flashing her pearly whites.

It almost gives you whiplash. She’d done it before, completely disregarded your attempts at trying to figure out why exactly she hated Alex so much, wanting more of a reason beside Ellie’s ‘bad feeling’ about the girl. It made you feel even more confused and frustrated with her and how she was acting towards you.

But every time she flashed those pretty teeth your way, it was like your mind went blank.

You blinked a few times as you stared up at her, clearing your throat before your mouth started moving before your brain could properly form a the sentence you wanted to say. Which was something along the lines of ‘im not feeling well! I’ll probably skip this one’

But that isn’t what leaves past your lips.

“I’m uh…not sure yet. I guess you’ll see once I’m there” you breath out softly, followed by a soft chuckle that sounds similar to a sound of defeat, because that’s exactly what’s happened, you’ve been defeated. Ellie has once again wiggled her way into that little soft spot she knew she had for you, and managed to have her way with you, no matter how annoyed you were with her.

Ellie beams the second she heard your words, nodding as she gives you a nudge with her elbow. “That’s why I like to hear! Hey, I’ll text you, okay? Keep you updated on what’s happening” she promises, giving you a nod. Before you can respond, her phone vibrated in her back pocket, to which she pulled out to check it, and you already know who it is. It rips you away from the little interaction you’re having with her, and it makes you sigh softly as you give Ellie a soft nod. “I’ll see you there, Els” you promise, adjusting your bag on your shoulder before you began walking ahead of her.

“I’m pretty tired so…I’ll head home” you nod, not giving her anymore room to stick around and tell you how she can’t stay with you any longer because she has to meet Sofia somewhere. That hurts much more than whatever the hell it was that was happening between you and her within that moment. She watched you, opening her mouth to stop you from leaving but you were already giving her a small wave, paired with a soft smile as you began making your way home.

And that was that. You went home and spent the rest of the day hating the fact that you had said yes to Ellie. You hated that she still had this weird power over you to get whatever she wanted whenever she wanted it.

It’s how you found yourself staring blankly at yourself in the mirror, feeling ridiculous in your outfit, unable to even recognize yourself, and feeling even more ridiculous for going to the stupid party in the first place.

On your bed, you hear your phone buzz, and you already know who it is. You let out a soft huff, grabbing the platform sandals you had settled next to you in the mirror and sitting on your bed to put them on. You open up your messages to read through them while you do so.

yooooo

What time u want us to pick you up?

The messages make you frown, and for a minute your eyes trail towards the bubble at the very top of your phone, the one that has a silly picture of Ellie that you had taken of her when she was high out of her mind and babbling about something that was too incoherent to understand. Once you’ve put your shoes on, you grab the phone and begin typing out a message back to her.

sup

you guys head out without me, I’ll meet you there

huh?

I stg if ur flaking on me

I’m not

I’ll be there relax

ok who’s bringing you then?

The text makes you frown further, because you can practically hear the tone of accusatory thick within Ellie’s words from the text alone, and it pisses you off. Because why the hell would she be prying on who’s taking you to the party? And why does it even matter in the first place?

You sigh softly, eyeing the text for a few more moments before you stand up off the bed, shove your phone into your back pocket and leave your room to head out into your kitchen.

Once you’re there, you open up one of the highest cupboards, you’re glad that your sandals are platforms, because if they weren’t, you wouldn’t be able to reach the single bottle of tequila that sits at the very top of the cupboard. You huff in annoyance, because you can vividly recall the night you and Ellie bought the bottle. She was complaining about your lack of provisions, to which prompted the both of you to make a late night run to the liquor store to buy it. The only contents from the bottle that was missing was from that of which came from nights that you and Ellie wanted to let loose a bit, other than that, you never touched it. And with Ellie being Ellie, she made sure to tuck the bottle away at the very top of your cupboard with ease, where she knew you’d struggle to reach it, just so she could piss you off a bit.

Funny, Ellie seemed to always have a way of pissing you off.

When you finally managed to take the bottle down from the cupboard, you grabbed one of the only two shot glasses that you had in your house, the other belonging to Ellie, and you poured some of the clear liquid out for yourself.

Because lord knows with how this night was already going, you were going to fucking need it.

You threw it back, wincing as the vile liquid burned down your throat, making its presence in your body known as it traveled down into your stomach, settling in and making it feel as though a match was thrown into your body. Instantly, it was already making you feel looser, less tense, the worries you had about the party were still very much there, but they didn't seem to matter as much.

And when you heard the knock on your door, you knew your date was there to pick you up.

Did you end up inviting Alex to be your plus one to the party that Ellie invited you to? Yes.

Did this somehow morph into a date between you and Alex? Yes.

Did you know what you were getting yourself into by inviting Alex, knowing how much worse this would make things with Ellie? Sort of, but you couldn't really find it in you to care in that moment.

Not when Alex was showering you in compliments the second you opened the door for her. Not when Alex looked amazing in her outfit, and smelled even better, making you swoon for her the second she was wrapping her strong arms around your waist and guiding her out to your car. And definitely not when Alex's hand on your thigh on the way there was making your little heart flutter and dance, thanking the heavens above for granting you such a pretty girl to take along to this party with, and hopefully make it so that it wouldn't have the bitter ending of you sulking home while Ellie and Sofia made out in a random room, making it so that you were forced to catch the bus home.

Yeah, there was no way in hell you were letting Ellie ruin this for you.

It wasn't long until you both arrived at the house where the party was being held. Had it been any other day, the sight of drunk college kids, loud music, and the smell of beer and weed would have made you scrunch up your nose in disgust and walk back to your cozy little apartment, to make a warm cup of tea and cuddle up in your bed. But you were tipsy, you felt really fucking hot, and the longer Alex had her hands on you, the needier you felt.

It was time you finally give into the cliche world of being a college student, and lived a little. Because if not now, then when?

Alex had her hand slung loosely around your hips, her strong fingers slipped into your belt loop as she kept you close, toying with the soft sliver of skin that peeked out between the waist band of your jeans, and the bottom of your top. Upon walking into the house, you were glad to see that it wasn't a huge frat party. It was a bit more laid back, with the majority of the party goers splayed out within the living room, already having drunk or high conversations. Or they were in the kitchen, making drinks, or some even opted to head outside in the front yard or the back, the cold autumn air acting as an escape from the warmth that emitted from inside the house.

You feel glad that you don't spot Ellie and Sofia as soon as you walk in, knowing that, that was a confrontation that you were not drunk enough to face. You hum softly as Alex leans into you, your hand slipping down between the both of you as you interlock your fingers with hers, and drag her along to the kitchen.

That's how you find Alex pressed up against you, her strong hands resting against the edge of the counter top, hard chest pressing into your back, chin resting against your shoulder as she watches you pour out two drinks into red solo cups for you and her. She whispers sweet words in your ears, and to remember that she's driving you home, to make sure that you don't add any liquor to her cup. You giggle softly as you nod, melting into the girls touch, her soft caress and her even softer words. It's hard to remember the last time you were touched like this, given this sort of attention, told these sort of words. You figure that you could get used to it, especially when it's coming from her.

When you turn around in her arms, her hands are on your hips, giving them a slight squeeze as she smirks down at you. Both drinks are in your hand, and you simply stare up at her, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth, an overwhelming sense of warmth spreading throughout your chest, making it feel as though you could pounce this girl at any given moment-

And then it all stops.

Because suddenly, through the lust that you feel for Alex, your lips merely inches apart, the sound of someone clearing their throat somehow makes it through the music, cutting right in between the two of you and forcing you to look in the direction of where the sound was coming from, and you’re only met with Ellie.

A very angry, and annoyed, Ellie.

Her green eyes are dark, casted downward as she stares at you and Alex. She has a solo cup hanging loosely between her strong fingers, sharp jaw clenching as her eyes slowly drift between you and Alex, finally settling on you and giving you a look of disbelief, almost as if to ask if you were serious, and if this was some stupid fucking joke that you had.

And it’s so fucking awkward, that you have no choice but to break the silence.

“Ellie!” You chirp out, handing one of the cups to Alex before you turn to her, giving her an apologetic look, to which she simply sighs and gives you a nod before she briefly glares in Ellie’s direction.

You inhale deeply before you make your way over to your friend, clutching your cup slightly as you give her a smile. “Hey…sorry I didn’t come looking for you, did you and Sofia get in alright-“ Ellie immediately cuts you off, because you’re clearly trying to ease the burn of Alex being there, and you aren’t even sure why, because you truly don’t owe Ellie a single thing.

“What the fuck did you bring her for?” She gets straight to the point, and you can tell just how much she’s been smoking from her voice. It’s low, and rough, and if the way she was questioning wasn’t making you so fucking annoyed.

You would’ve been soaking wet just from the sound of it.

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief, a soft scoff leaving your lips as she give her a shrug. “Because I can? I didn’t know I was suddenly banned from bringing people places with me” you challenge her, your eyebrows furrowed as you stare up at the tall girl. Ellie chuckles softly, her tongue pressing against the inside of her cheek as she looks down at the floor before she nods slowly, smirking down at you.

“You know what? You can…don’t mind me” she hums out, a bit to casually for how angry she sounded mere moments ago. Her sudden change of tone makes you blink a few times, trying to see if you heard her correctly. You were convinced that this weird situation was going to turn into an argument, and you’d finally blow up on your best friend for acting fucking weird…

But that wasn’t at all what was happening.

“Oh…okay then…” you mumble out awkwardly, suddenly feeling small under Ellie’s gaze. Her eyes are low, and you can feel the way she’s eating you up, taking you in and shamelessly raking down every inch of your body with her emerald orbs that just seem different tonight than they have on any other night.

You both stay there for a few moments longer, and your skin begins to burn with the need to get away from the extremely awkward situation, making your mind cloudy with confusion as you’ve never once felt that way about Ellie. She’s a person you relate with the feelings of comfort, and warmth.

And now? You just needed to get away from her.

You inhale deeply, taking a large gulp of your drink that was far too strong, the contents burning your throat, which makes you wince as it travels down your body and settles in your stomach. You give Ellie a nod, clearing your throat as you avoid eye contact with her at all times. “Right, so….I’ll uh…I’ll catch you later” you try, giving your friend a half smile as you’re already making your way out of the kitchen to find Alex.

Ellie on the other hand? Simply gives you a slow nod, her eyes still shamelessly eating you up as you walk o it of the kitchen.

The only thing on your mind? Was that you needed to get drunk and forget about everything that just happened.

The laugh that leaves your body is almost too much to handle, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you lean into Alex, your face mere inches from your neck as you rest your weight against her, your feet feeling wobbly underneath you. Her hand was placed loosely on your hip, smiling lazily as she watched you lose yourself at another one of the jokes she had made.

The night had carried on after the situation with Ellie in the kitchen. After that, you had quickly found your way to Alex, relief settling in once you were finally able to enjoy the party with your date. You two were stuck to each other like glue from that point on, the vibes of the party making it easier to loosen up around Alex and truly get to know her outside of an academic setting, which was the main place of your relationship with her thus far. However, there was a looming presence that you simply could not shake from your spot with Alex at the bottom of the stairs, tucked away from everyone else.

Ellie.

Her eyes never left yours from her point on the couch. A blunt was loosely hanging from her tattooed hand, lifting it up and taking a drag ever so often, a beer in the other, and to make things even worse? She had Sofia propped right on her lap the entire time she watched you.

And as much as you tried to ignore it? Ellie’s glares were lethal. She made no attempt in hiding it, or pretending like she wasn’t keeping an eye on you and Alex like a fucking hawk the entire night. After about the tenth time of catching her run her tongue along her teeth every time Alex tried getting closer, you’d had enough.

Its how you ended up in your current position. You had dragged Alex to the kitchen with you, and she had taken a seat on the island, where you made your own spot standing between her spread legs. The more you drank, the funnier Alex got, and you suddenly couldn’t breath every time she spewed another silly joke your way.

You hummed softly, coming down from your laughing fit and finally catching your breath. Alex smirked softly at you, watching as you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, glossy eyes growing hazy, and giving the dreamiest look, strands of hair cascading down into your face, which made her push to the side to get a better look at you. It was like a movie, the universe setting up the most perfect time for you and her to finally do it, to finally break the barrier and press each others lips against one another…

But this isn’t a movie, and none of this is perfect.

You realize that, when you feel Alex’s body get shoved to the side, causing you to gasp softly and grip your cup a bit tighter, as well as grip Alex’s arm to make sure she isn’t pushed off of the island counter entirely. You’re ready to yell at whatever asshole made it a point to sit right next to you and Alex, when there’s not only an entire kitchen, but an entire house with thousands of other places to sit, because who on earth would do something so inconsiderate.

Ellie. Ellie Williams would.

Her laugh is something you’d always loved, when she was high, it was loud and boisterous and electrifying, and it had the power to make even the saddest person laugh. You especially loved it, when her voice would crack, and she’d shed a tear because whatever she was laughing at was far too much to handle.

But right now, in this very moment, her laugh was like nails on a chalkboard.

She laughs loudly, taking a seat right next to Alex on the island counter top, adjusting her worn out backwards baseball cap on her head, blunt perched between her lips, and taking a long drag before she blows the smoke right into Alex’s face. “Shit…my bad, man. I’ve just been looking everywhere for my two favorite people!” She chuckles out. Her words make you wince.

You’re frowning right at her, because you know exactly what she’s doing, her eyes are red, lips are plump and pink from all the biting and sucking she’d most definitely been doing, and her eyes never leave Alex’s, studying her face like she was a predator studying their prey, looking for all the flaws they could use to wiggle their way into the cracks.

And you realize, Ellie Williams was fucking cock blocking you.

You inhale deeply, trying to control your temper before you give Ellie a very exaggerated smile. “So nice of you to join us, Ellie….but I’m sure you have other things to do, why don’t you just…catch us later?” You try, your voice desperately trying to get Ellie away from the both of you, your eyes practically bulging out of your head as you try to silently tell your friend to leave.

But she ignores you completely.

Alex, being the angel that she is, simply chuckles softly as she shakes her head. “Not a problem…the more the merrier, right?” She nods, her words genuine. Her hand reaches down, wrapping around your waist and pulling you forward to be tucked into the side of her body, which warms you up.

A flash of anger ripples through Ellie’s expression, her face hard as she eyed the way Alex pulls you in before she quickly shakes it away, giving Alex a nod as she lifts the blunt to her lips once again. “You smoke?” She questions casually, her eyes drifting towards you for a brief moment before she blows the smoke away from you and Alex. Alex hums softly as she nods, “I do…but I’m DD tonight, so I’ve gotta pass” she politely declines, her long fingers rubbing a sliver of your exposed skin mindlessly.

Ellie rolls her eyes, giving a playful scoff “ahhh don’t be stupid, do you see this house? You and the princess here can crash in any one of’em” she smirks softly, eyeing you for a moment, watching the way you become bashful at the nickname. Alex sighs softly, looking down at you for a moment before she gives a half shrug. “Why the hell not…” she mumbles under her breath, taking the blunt from Ellie and bringing it to her lips, Ellie watching with the most mischievous look on her face, it almost looks fucking comical.

And that, was Alex’s first mistake.

Because sure, Alex had smoked a few times. She liked to pop an edible on nights where she couldn’t sleep or she needed a bit of rest and relaxation. So of course, she wasn’t at all a stranger to the angel that was Mary Jane herself.

But she had no idea, what Ellie was packing.

Ellie had always prided herself on having the best weed on campus, the college kids flocking to her every time she rolled up at a party. She had anything and everything you could think of, each strain providing something different for its users.

And for her? Her tolerance was high of course, so she would opt for something a bit stronger. The thing about that, is that not everyone could handle what Ellie smoked.

Alex was a prime example of that.

It only took about three passes between her and Ellie for Alex to be stumbling off of the counter and towards the couch, mumbling something about needing to be somewhere ‘soft’. You knew things were trouble as soon as Ellie was giving that smirk as she watched Alex pull from the blunt, one that looked like she’d already won whatever stupid battle she was playing with Alex.

Before you knew it, you were helping Alex up the stairs to a spare bedroom, struggling yourself because you were still very much drunk, helping her into bed, and watching her as she shoved her face into the pillow, let out a loud groan, and promptly passed out.

Alex had indeed, greened out.

You let out a soft huff as you stood back, watching the girl for a moment and thinking about everything she was experience, wishing you were able to take it all away and rewind time back to that moment in the kitchen, when your lips were mere inches apart, so close to tasting one another and cutting through this stupid slow burn that you had between one another.

But by the looks of that stupid smirk of triumph on Ellie’s lips as she watched you tug the girl to the stairs and to a spare bedroom, that wasn’t written in the stares for you.

You were so confused, and as you walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind you and making sure no one would walk in and interrupt her slumber, all you could think about is why Ellie was doing this. She was sabotaging you, that was without a doubt, but you just couldn’t understand why. Surely, you weren’t so blind that you wouldn’t be able to see that Alex was a bad person. You felt like your judgment of character was quite good, looking back at everyone you’d ever trusted, and trying to figure out if you’d ever gone wrong with who that wasn’t

But you couldn’t, nothing came up.

You pouted softly, making your way back into the kitchen and grabbing another cup and filling it with a drink. You figured, you might as well get your moneys worth through this damned party, and as much as you wanted to confront Ellie, you weren’t sure you could handle her reasoning behind doing what she did to you.

But alas, Ellie seemed to have continued her streak on making herself present in places that you wished she wasn’t, because as you were making your way to sit down at the bottom of the stairs, staring down into the orange color of your drink that was being distorted by the lights floating around in the party, you suddenly felt the familiar presence standing over you.

“Damn…a few pulls and that’s what takes her out? I think I’m doing you a favor, princess” you don’t even have to look up to know that she has that stupid fucking smirk on her lips. You let out a low sigh, resting your forehead against the palm of your hand before you bring your cup to your lips, taking another sip.

“I really don’t have time for this right now, Ellie. I’m finishing this, and then I’m going to bed with Alex” you explain, trying your best to put an end to this pointless conversation. You finally look up at her, giving her an unamused look. She’s seemed to have ditched her blunt and her baseball cap, a red solo held lazily between her hand as she takes a sip as well. Her smirk is gone once she hears your words, rolling her eyes as she leans against the wall next to the stairs.

“Seriously? You’re still interested in that idiot after what just happened? Isn’t she even the slightest bit pathetic to you?” She tried, and you swear you can hear her voice falling to a desperate tone. You scoff, unable to pay her tone any mind as you raise your eyebrows in disbelief.

“Her? The only one pathetic here is you, Ellie. I’m not stupid, I know exactly what you’re doing…the fact that you even had the time to do that was pathetic. Where even is Sofia? Don’t you have her to keep you occupied?” You practically spit out, unable to stop your words from sounding as harsh as they do. You know you’ll regret it later, despite the fact that Ellie very much deserved it.

Ellie eyed you carefully, bringing her cup to her lips before she gave a shrug that was far too nonchalant for what she was saying. “Dunno…she left a while ago” she mumbles out, staring at the bottom of your cup.

The way she says it, the way she had almost zero regard for the girl that she was raving about with stars in her eyes was almost scary, a chill running up your spine as you watched your friend.

You blinked a few times before you inhaled deeply, looking around at the house you were sitting in. The amount of people had lessened greatly since when you first arrived. What used to be a couch full of people was now only filled with a couple, passed out and wrapped up in each others arms. You sighed softly, throwing back the rest of what was in your cup down your throat before you shoved the empty cup towards Ellie’s chest. “I’m gonna go to bed….let me know when you wanna start acting normal again” you sigh out softly, turning around to begin walking up the stairs. A strong hand on your wrist stops you.

You frown, turning around and looking down to see Ellie’s tattooed hand squeezing your wrist, making you sigh softly. You try tugging your hand out of her grasp, clearly not in the mood for anymore of her tricks. “Ellie…come on. Im drunk, I’m tired, I am severely touch deprived, and right now, I just really wanna go to bed” you mumble out, your voice tired as you try wiggling your way out of her right hold on your hand, your hazy eyes looking up at her for a moment.

Thats when you catch it, that look of desperation that had become so frequent in your best friend. It was like she was begging you for something, begging for you to understand what she was saying, or what she was feeling. It makes your heart hurt, because it makes you realize that for the first time in the many years of your friendship with Ellie, you can’t understand her. You can’t read her feelings like you can your own, and the worst part of it all?

You can’t help her.

It makes you frown deeply, and you open your mouth to say something, to speak softly to your friend and try to come to a moral high ground where you could put aside her behavior, and try to understand what the root of it was. But before you can speak, you’re suddenly being dragged up the stairs.

You nearly trip over your own feet, the chunky sandals you decided to wear, paired with the alcohol in your system made it extremely hard to keep up with Ellie’s quick pace. You aren’t really sure how someone who’d spent the entire night drinking and smoking was able to move with such dexterity. You open your mouth to try and protest, to try and ask Ellie where on earth she was taking you, but those questions are all answered, because soon she’s tugging you into another spare bedroom, and locking the door behind her.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you watch your friend lock the door, and remorse you felt for her suddenly gone as it was now replaced with pure annoyance. “Seriously, Ellie? I told you I don’t have time for any games” you groan out, moving your arms so that they were crossed over your chest. You expect her to give you another witty remark, one that was about you or Alex, about how stupid you are for going for someone like that. But she doesn’t do that, in fact, she doesn’t say anything. Ellie begins pacing back and forth in front of you, her strong hand coming up to run through her short brown hair, making it fall down in front of her face again as she stares down at the ground deep in thought.

Her actions make you scoff, rolling your eyes as you sigh out loudly. “And now you’re pacing…you know I was going to cut you some slack. I was going to let all of this go because frankly, I don’t want to deal with your bizarre behavior, but now that we’re here and you’re literally in front of me pacing as it I did something wrong, I can’t let it go anymore! You know what, Ellie…I’ve been so patient with you and I think that-“ your rant is cut off, and at first you aren’t really sure what’s happening. Your brain struggles to register what it is that’s happening, what it is that’s forced your rant shorter than you had wished. But when you finally come to, you aren’t sure if any of this is even real anymore.

Because suddenly, Ellie is kissing you.

You were too caught up in your rant, that you didn’t even realize Ellie had stopped pacing, and was staring at you with a conflicting look, before she inhaled deeply and was nearly stomping towards you, cupping both of your cheeks with her hands and pressing her lips on yours.

All of your words die down in your throat, and you’re melting into the kiss, and you can’t remember how many times you’d though about this. You can’t remember all the times you’d dreamed of Ellie doing this exact thing. Grabbing you, and kissing you like her life depended on it, like she needed your lips to breath, acting as a lifeline that kept her connected to the real world. Your hands went up to grip her wrists softly, a quiet whine leaving your lips and going directly to Ellie’s, and it makes her groan.

Her hands leave your face, and the lack of warmth on your cheeks makes you whine softly, but you aren’t without it for long, because her large hands slowly travel down your body, running along your soft skin until they settle on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze before they slide down further, resting on your ass, to which she gives a firm squeeze.

Her grip makes you gasp, and she takes the advantage of pushing her tongue into your mouth, exploring you entirely and making you moan into her. Her mouth is warm, and wet, and it makes all of the blood in your body rush to your core. Your hands go to her chest, tugging at her shirt slightly as you let her dominate the kiss, playing with your tongue as she pleased, your head clouded with the an ever growing lust for your best friend.

“Ellie…” you moan softly into her mouth, the sound makes her groan, giving your ass a firm squeeze before her head drops down to attack your neck in kisses, her mouth licking, sucking, and biting on the soft skin of your throat. She isn’t sure she’s ever heard a sound so sweet, a sound that had the capability of throwing her into a frenzy of lust so quickly. “Lemme take care of you…” she mumbles out against your skin, giving your throat a playful nip.

It makes you whine softly, and before you can nod, beg her for everything you’d ever imagined, everything you’d ever wanted from her, a heavy, looming thought settles in. It’s like a dark cloud, one that quickly rains down on you and drenches you from the inside out, reminding you of why you couldn’t do this.

Sofia.

The name echos throughout your mind, and it makes you frown deeply, because it reminds you that this is wrong, and you couldn’t do this. You refused to be this, to be the other woman to your best friend of all people.

You frown deeply, shaking your head as you try to push Ellie away from you. “But…Sofia…” you mumble out, opening your mouth again to explain why you couldn’t do this, why she couldn’t do this, but Ellie quickly cuts you off with her lips on yours. She swallows down the words that were hanging off the edge of your lips, shaking her own head as she gives your hips a gentle squeeze.

“Isn’t here….you don’t need to worry about her right now…” she hums against your mouth, kissing you once more before she breaks the kiss, staring deep into your eyes, her own one’s blown out and lust filled. Her strong, calloused fingers go to grip your chin, angling your face so you’re staring up at her. “This is about you, and me right now…okay?” She promises, her words genuine, her eyes filled with something you can’t exactly make out.

And as much as the little voice inside your head screams at you to stop, to leave and go elsewhere, your heart is doing something entirely different, and the look in Ellie’s eyes is one you can’t deny.

So, you give in to her.

You stare into her eyes for a moment longer before you give her the tiniest nod, giving your trust to the girl. With that, she presses her lips against yours, the kiss was needy and sloppy and there were so many emotions put into it. Your head was spinning because you couldn’t understand the fact that this was actually happening.

You were actually kissing Ellie.

Through the clouds of your mind, Ellie begins pushing you back until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, her hand pressing against your chest gently and pushing you back to sit on the bed. You stare up at her when she does this, your eyes wide and needy, and it makes Ellie groan. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty…” she mumbles out, more so to herself than to you. You bite your lip softly, watching closely as she crawls over your body, pressing kisses against your exposed collar bones and neck until she reaches your lips again, taking the breath from your lungs away once again.

Ellie hums against you, relishing in the taste of your mouth, her hands traveling down your body until they reached your jeans, her skilled fingers undoing them. You pout softly, breaking away from the kiss and looking down at Ellie’s tattooed hand tugging at the waistband of your jeans. Ellie chuckles softly at the look on your face, to which she leans in and presses a kiss to your pouty lips.

“I told you…M’gonna take care of you…you trust me, don’t you baby?” She questioned, her green eyes staring into yours, hand massaging your waist gently. It feels like you can’t breath, because the look in her eyes, and the names she’s calling you are all things straight out of a fairy tale, and it makes you wonder whether this is all a dream or not. Even if it was, you decided you’d enjoy it to its fullest.

You stare down at Ellie’s lips before looking into her eyes and giving her a nod. “Of course I trust you, Els…” you hum out softly, giving her a gentle smile. The sound of your voice, and the little smile you give her makes her heart feel like it��ll burst, and she’s smiling with you, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips before she gives you a nod and kisses down your body until she’s on your knees in front of you.

Ellie brought her hands up to the back of either one of your knees, pulling you so your legs were spread, and you were at the edge of the bed. You propped yourself up on your palms, pressing them into the bed as you stared down at Ellie. You inhaled deeply, trying to fight off the intense butterflies you felt in your stomach, the feeling enough to make your head spin. Ellie stared up at you, gently tugging your jeans off your body and tossing them to the side. She presses a kiss to your inner thigh, humming softly as she kissed her way to your clothed core, her lips ghosting over the place you needed her most. “You’re in good hands with me, Angel…I promise” she assured you, giving you another slight nod before she presses the softest kiss to your pussy.

You gasp softly, watching as Ellie’s eyes never leave yours, scanning your face the entire time to make sure you liked what she was doing. She smirks softly against you as she watches the way you tug your bottom lip between your teeth, the way your eyes grow darker, filled with lust as you stare down at her. Both of her strong hands grip your thighs, keeping you spread for her as her kisses on your pussy grow firmer, making you whine. “Ellie…please…” you beg, and it makes her smirk against you again.

“So needy…tell me…what is it that you want, baby? Who’s tongue are you needy for?” She purrs out, her voice low and dripping with lust as she pulls your panties to the side painfully slow. You whine softly at the feeling of the cool air of the bedroom hitting your bare, wet pussy, it forces your hips to buck forward a bit.

“Yours…I want your mouth on me Ellie…please…don’t tease…” you moan out, your head tilting to the side as you watch her movements closely, hoping it’ll somehow make her speed up. She chuckles softly, a low hiss leaving her lips as she watches a string of your arousal connect to your cotton panties. She bites her lip, tugging them further to the side to get a good look at your core.

“Fuck yeah…look at how fucking wet you are, princess…so needy for me…” she hums out, getting a good look at your pussy before she slowly brings her mouth to your core, tauntingly slow, eyes never leaving yours. “For me, right? It’s all for me?” She questions, voice low. There’s a hint of desperation, like she needs to hear that it’s for her, she needs confirmation that this is her doing, and no one else’s.

It makes you moan loudly.

You give an eager nod, your hands fisting the sheets underneath you. “Yours! It’s all…all for you Ellie..” you confirm, because despite the cloudiness in your head, through all of it, there’s no doubt that she’s doing this to you, that Ellie is the reasoning behind the state you were in. Ellie smiles, and it’s like she’s so proud of you, like you’ve made her the happiest girl in the world just by telling her the truth.

You want to stick with that for a moment, look deeper into it and figure out what it is that you’ve said that’s made her so happening, but you can’t, because your head is spinning once Ellie latches her plump lips against your core, latching onto your clit and sucking like her life depended on it.

You throw your head back, back arching in pleasure almost painfully. Ellie watches in awe, because you look like a work of art, the prettiest painting, the most detailed sculpture, none of it can compare to the way your chest rises and falls, the way your lips swell, or the way your eyes become low and dreamy. You’re better than any work of art in the world, and it makes her feel lucky to even be here with you.

Her tongue is lapping at your core, watching as jolts of electricity travel through your body with each flick of her tongue to your sensitive little bundle of nerves, and she feels proud of herself for giving you this pleasure, for making you feel this way. You moan out Ellie’s name loudly, your head falling down and tilting to the side as you watch her closely. You want to remember it forever, you want to take this moment and burn it into your mind so you know that it’s real, and that this actually happened.

“So…so pretty…” you moan out, finding it hard to form coherent sentences through the blur of pleasure to felt, and the cloudy feeling that came with the alcohol. You felt numb and hypersensitive all at the same time, and the sensation of that made your head spin. Ellie groans softly against you, giving you an encouraging nod as she flicks her tongue against your weeping core.

And you suddenly feel it, that tight, coiling feeling at the pit of your stomach. It makes your legs shake, it makes your hips grind agains Ellie, forcing your pussy to grind against her face, desperately seeking your orgasm, needing to feel that familiar feeling of bliss wash over you, and you suddenly can’t help but wish that this doesn’t end, that this moment lasts forever.

“Ellie…Els I…fuck….mmmph…m’close!” You announce, your back arching further as you feel it growing closer, and closer and closer and the second you’re right there at the edge….

Its gone. And you realize, you need to be careful what you wish for.

You look down, a soft whine leaving your lips as you look at Ellie below you. Her face is soaked with your arousal, pupils blown out with lust, and bottom lip tugged between her teeth. You open your mouth to complain, to whine and tell her how close you were, but a shiver runs down your spine when Ellie brings her fingers to your core, rubbing circles ever so slowly into your throbbing clit.

“Look at you…poor baby wants to cum so badly, hm?” She hums out, voice tauntingly low as she stared up at you, eyes shining as she slowly toyed with your pussy. You can’t even respond, your hips buck up into her fingers, and she’s quickly clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and bringing one of her hands down to hold your waist steady

“Ooh, not so fast…I think you need to wait a little bit longer, baby” she explained, voice so low and sweet, it made your head spin. You let out a soft huff, tugging at the sheets beneath you further as you try moving your hips again. “Ellie..that’s…it’s not fair…I’m so close..” you explain, your demeanor clearly switching to one that was needy and huffy.

Ellie chuckles softly, nodding slowly as she continues toying with your pussy so slowly, it feels like torture. “No…no it isn’t fair” she hummed out, slowing her fingers down even more, which was something you weren’t sure was even possible.

She hums softly as she looks down at your poor, weeping pussy, biting her lip softly as she continued rubbing small circles into your clit, pulling you closer towards the edge, just to rip it all away from you, all over again.

“You know what else isn’t fair?” She questioned softly, her eyes now trailing up to yours, her fingers speeding up a bit. As much as you wanted her mouth, anything was better than nothing at this point, and you barely had the mind to give her a proper response. You whined softly, arching your back as you felt it again, growing closer to the edge. Ellie smirked softly as she watches you, going even faster before she leans in and gives your pussy a long lick, which makes you nearly scream.

“How much you hurt me, baby…” she mumbles out, and you can hear that she’s pouting. Her words make your eyebrows furrow, and you look down at her, whining and moaning through the pleasure as you try to see if you’ve heard her correctly. “W-what?” You whimper out, and it causes her to chuckle softly again.

“God, you’re so fuckin cute…” she whispers softly before she nods, a soft hum leaving her lips before she continues speaking. “You hurt me so much, princess….you and that stupid fucking girl…makes me so upset seeing you together, especially when I know I’d treat you so much better” she pouted out again, watching you as you fell apart above her. You’re sure you aren’t hearing her correctly this time. You’re sure that it’s the alcohol, and the pleasure, and everything else you’re experiencing that’s making you hear things.

There’s so much going on in her head, and you can’t even focus on it because she’s clicking her tongue again, and it’s almost like she feels sorry for you, for how much of a wreck you’ve become at the hands of her, at the workings of her tongue.

“And you don’t even fucking realize it too…that’s what pisses me off the most…” she groans out, speeding up her fingers, watching as you whine and wither for her. “You never fucking have…” she mumbles out that part a bit quieter, as it she hopes you don’t here it, or as if that part isn’t for you to hear.

She smirks softly, green eyes trailing up to watch you as she hums. “I think for the at…I shouldn’t give this to you so easily, huh? Pretty girl?” She continues, and you’re shaking your head before she can even finish her sentence. Somehow, out of all the outlandish things that have passed her lips within the last few minutes, that’s the only thing you can focus on and respond to, and that makes her chuckle.

“Ahh, but you can respond to that…” she teases, humming softly as she gently pushes her pointer and index finger into you, watching as your face contorts with pleasure, and it makes her groan softly. “I can’t even imagine how good you’d look taking my cock…you’re made for it…” she groans out through gritted teeth, watching as you moan and whine while she slowly fucks her fingers in and out of you.

At this point, you’ve been denied your orgasm so many times, you’re sure she’s going to do it again. You’re practically preparing for the second she stops, egging you on further until you’re crying for her. You let out a pathetic little whine, your legs threatening to close, and keep her out, to which she pouts. “Shutting me out already? But I haven’t even made you cum yet” she taunts, watching you with a look of pity before she leans in closer to your core, her warm breath wafting against your weeping pussy.

“I know you want it…you always have, haven’t you baby?” She smirks softly, eyeing you as her fingers come to a complete stop inside of you.

And that, that is what throws you over the edge.

Because you can’t take it anymore, one of your hands goes to the back of her head, grabbing a fistful of hair and pressing her face against your core. This results in a low groan from Ellie, one of her hands squeezing your thigh the second you push her in, and her tongue working on your core immediately. She’s just as desperate as you are, tongue lapping at your cunt like a hungry dog, wet noises of squishing and squelching echoing throughout the room, bouncing off the walls and making you feel even more aroused than before.

Her fingers inside of you begin pumping once again, and you finally feel it, that warm feeling you felt earlier, yet this time it’s stronger. All of the orgasms you’d been denied had built up together to create something explosive, electrifying, you could practically feel the energy building up within your body, begging to be released.

And the second you looked down into Ellie’s eyes, seeing the way she was watching your every move, watching the way your face contorted in pleasure, the way your lips parted to let the most wonderful noises escape…

You were done for.

You came so hard, you saw white. It was like you’d died and gone to an afterlife where there was nothing but bliss, a euphoric state that left you almost feeling like you were no longer a body, but a soul. Your back arched so hard it was painful, you were sure to be sore in the morning. It was all too much, too powerful, too erotic.

When you came down from your high, all you could hear were Ellie’s praises. She called you a good girl, she called you her good girl, and she was so proud of you for how well you did, how well you took her. And all you could feel, was Ellie’s strong arms pulling you back into the bed, into her arms as she tugged the covers over your limp body, everything you felt was distant, it was hard to even compute what was real and what wasn’t.

And the last thing you felt before you fell into the most blissful sleep you’d ever experienced, was Ellie’s lips pressing the softest, sweetest kiss to yours.

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

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7ndipity · 7 months

Text

“You Broke Me”

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Just clingy, fluffy Yoongi after Reader comes home after a month-long trip

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Suggestive, Swearing, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I got a little carried away with this one, so it is just nothing but tooth-rotting fluff. I hope you like it!

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

You weren’t surprised when Yoongi insisted on picking you up at the airport, even though you told him that he didn’t have to, that you could just get a cab home so he wouldn’t have to risk being spotted, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He’d been telling you for days that waiting at home would have driven him crazy and that he wanted to see you as soon as possible.

In previous relationships, Yoongi had never really considered himself to be the needy type, but something about you had changed him drastically in that department. Now, he didn’t care if it made him sound melodramatic, the last three weeks without you while you were overseas visiting family had been absolute hell for Yoongi.

Later, as you walked through the terminal, it was easy for you to spot him. Even with the bucket hat and mask hiding his face, you could’ve recognized him anywhere, eyes scrunching up in a smile as he watched your steps begin to pick up speed until you were practically running to him.

As soon as you were close enough, he pulled you into a crushing hug, an audible sigh leaving him as he hooked his arms tightly around you.

“Hi.” You giggled.

“Hey.” He said, burying his face in your neck.

You let yourself relax into his hold, closing your eyes in contentment. After having gone nearly a month without his touch, the warmth of his body against yours felt like absolute heaven.

Eventually, you started to pull away in order to see his face, but he tightened his grip to keep you where you were instead. “Just a little more.” He muttered.

You chuckled. “Yoongi, people are looking.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” He grumbled, squeezing you more to prove his point.

After another long moment, he finally released his hold on you, pulling back just enough to cup your face, his eyes dancing with happiness as they met yours.

“Ready to go home?” He grinned.

“So ready.”

He quickly helped you wrangle all your luggage together before heading to the car, making sure to keep one hand free in order to hold yours as you walked.

On the ride home, you talked about your flight and the trip, his hand never leaving yours for more than a few seconds, letting them rest together on the center console.

Once you got home, he quickly set your bags down by the door before turning and dragging you to the sofa, pulling you down so that you were straddling him.

“What are you doing?!” You squealed.

“Catching up.” He said simply, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I have been neglected for an entire month, it’s a miracle I haven’t shriveled up and died.”

“We talked literally everyday.” You pointed out.

“ ‘s not the same, and you know it.” He groaned, letting his lips drag along your jaw before returning to yours, silencing any further potential argument or teasing.

Although Yoongi was normally quite physically affectionate with you, you weren’t used to Yoongi being this needy and insistent, though you weren’t complaining by any means, following his lead as he turned his head slightly to the side to deepen the kiss, your fingers having slipped into his hair and giving a slight pull, earning a pleased sound from him.

At this moment, however, your stomach decided to announce itself, much to your embarrassment and Yoongi’s amusement, earning you one of his breathy laughs as you separated.

“Have you eaten?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Not since this morning.”

“Aish, no wonder your stomach’s complaining.” He said, sitting up more and rummaging for his phone. “Here, I’ll order us some food and then help you unpack.”

“You don’t have to do that, I can do it myself.” You said.

“Humour me, would you?” He frowned at you, making you laugh this time.

The two of you made quick work of unpacking your suitcases, chucking clothes into the wash and putting the rest of your things back into their usual places around the house.

As you were unpacking the last bag, he came over and wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind as you continued.

“Are you okay?” You finally asked, still thrown by his uncharacteristic clinginess.

“Mmm, just missed you.” He mumbled, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Yeah?” You said, glancing back at him, biting back a grin as you took in the positively love drunk expression on his face.

“Mhm, so much.” He hummed, burying his face in your neck as he spoke. “Turns out I can’t sleep without you.”

“Oh no.” You cooed, turning around in his hold to cup his face.

“Yep, I think you broke me.” He pouted, making you chuckle.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you’ve broke me too. Here.” You held out a dark grey hoodie that had been tucked at the bottom of the case.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for that!” He exclaimed, snatching it and looking at you in disbelief. “You little thief!”

“It smelled like you.” You explained quietly, avoiding his gaze as you felt your face heat up self consciously.

You were expecting one of his usual teasing remarks, what you received instead, however, was him tackling you to the bed, pressing more kisses to your face and neck.

“You’re really fucking cute, you know that?” He said. “I can’t fucking stand it.”

The fact that you had stole one of his hoodies should’ve annoyed him, normally it would’ve, but in the moment all he was thinking was that it showed how you had missed him, and knew that your were going to miss him, making his own longing for you seem justified, even though it didn’t need to be.

“I love you, so much.” He said, slightly out of breath as he stared down at you.

“I love you too.” You replied, smiling up at him.

“Promise you’ll never leave me for that long again?”

“I promise.” You swore, kissing his nose and making him chuckle.

Just then, the doorbell rang, making you both jump slightly in surprise.

“That’s probably the food.” You reminded him.

He let his head droop down against your chest, letting out a low whine. “I wasn’t done yet.”

“We have all night.” You giggled, patting his head gently before nudging him to get up.

You had all the time in the world.

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supernovafics · 2 months

Text

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 5.7k words

warnings: explicit language, so so much angst (but with a happy ending), some fluff at the end, just a whole lot of emotions in this one!

summary: in which during steve’s birthday ski trip to colorado everything he’s been keeping from you finally comes out

author's note: i had the idea for this specific one probably since the beginning of this series and now here we finally are many many months later<333 also this one is very much that one episode of friends coded where they were supposed to go skiing but never did. not once do i actually write them skiing in this but i promise the thought was there lol

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1986

When you first suggested the idea a month before Steve’s birthday, Robin and Eddie thought that a seventeen hour car ride to Denver sounded like hell. But, it luckily didn’t take a lot to convince them to agree and come along for the weekend trip. Because aside from gas and food, it was essentially a free trip to Colorado.

You’d all be staying at the cabin that your parents and Steve’s went to during Thanksgiving; which, after enduring an hour-long phone call with your mom when they came back from the trip because she wanted to tell you all about it, you learned that the place was really nice and they all were happy about buying it as a timeshare before even seeing it in person. She also told you that if you and Steve and some friends ever wanted to use it, you could, and you only responded with a half-hearted, “Sure, that would be nice,” because you just wanted to get off the phone, but months later you thought it could be a cool thing to do for Steve’s birthday.

You mentioned it to him first and he liked it, saying that it sounded fun and it would be hilarious to see you finally attempt skiing. You only rolled your eyes and playfully hit his arm in response, and then you mentioned the trip idea that night to Robin and Eddie when you all were on your way to the movies. And once they agreed, the plan became set.

It was barely four in the morning on Friday, the day before Steve’s birthday, when you all bunched into your car instead of Eddie’s van because he didn’t think it would be able to sustain that long of a road trip. Which, after spending many, many times in the old van, you completely agreed with him.

The drive surprisingly wasn’t that unbearable— Steve drove a lot of the time because he didn’t really mind it, you forced everyone to play dumb car ride games to help pass the time, Eddie controlled the music for most of the drive, and Robin had to go to the bathroom every hour until she fell asleep for most of the afternoon and evening. When the four of you made it to Denver around ten, you simply picked your rooms and then went to bed because of how tired you all were.

You woke up at some random time in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, and the loud creakiness of the wooden floors annoyed you and washed away most of your tiredness. When you noticed that it was a little after twelve, you went to Steve’s room, which was right across from yours. You gave his door a quick knock before walking in, the bright moonlight shining through the open curtain of one of the windows did enough to let you see him in bed. He was fast asleep, buried beneath the covers and softly snoring.

You lightly tapped his back to stir him awake and pulled the blanket off of his head a bit, which revealed his messy bedhead that you forced yourself not to laugh at.

Steve turned his head and looked up at you for a brief moment before letting out a soft, “Hey.”

You smiled at him. “Happy birthday, Stevie.”

You could tell that he was too tired to playfully roll his eyes at the nickname you had for him that usually only came out during moments like these or whenever you were drunk.

“Thanks,” He said instead, smiling back at you and letting out a small yawn.

You walked around to the other side of the bed and got in, pulling the blanket over your legs. “Also, I’m sorry, but I’m an idiot and forgot to pack your present, so you’ll get it when we get back home Monday night.”

He turned on his side to face you and rubbed his eyes. “Can I know what it is?”

You nodded. “It’s that denim jacket that you saw a few weeks ago at our usual thrift store. I convinced you not to buy it because I wanted to get it for you. I went back and bought it the next day, and I also put some pins on it that I thought you’d like.”

Steve gave you a small tired smile. “Nice, I knew that you actually liked the jacket.”

You laughed a bit. “I was honestly surprised that you didn’t immediately see through my lie.”

Steve didn’t say anything in response to that, and instead, you noticed his eyes slipping shut for a brief moment before he was looking at you in the darkness again. You smiled as you pulled the blanket off of you and got out of the bed.

“Okay, I’m gonna go. I’ll see you in the morning when we all go out for breakfast,” You told him, referring to the diner about ten minutes away that you had passed when you all were driving to the cabin and it looked fairly nice.

“You can stay if you want,” Steve said as he turned and watched you head toward the door, and you shook your head at his words.

“I know it’s only been a couple of hours, but I really like my bed,” You told him. It actually surprised you how easily you had found comfort in the full-sized bed. “So, goodnight and happy birthday again, Steven.”

You noticed his amused smile as he spoke. “No ‘Stevie’ this time around?”

“I wanted to spare you for a second.”

“That’s very considerate of you.”

“You’re welcome, Stevie,” You said with a nod and playful smile before you opened the door.

You closed it behind you and then headed across the hall to the room that was designated as yours for the weekend.

“Wait,” Hearing Steve’s voice at that moment surprised you; you hadn’t heard his door open again or the annoying creak of the floor.

You turned to look at him, dropping your hand from your doorknob, and even in the darkness of the hallway you could tell that he looked much more awake than when you had left him just moments ago.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to tell you something,” He said softly, and those words immediately made your mind travel back to that conversation you two had after playing basketball in the park.

“Is it what you’ve been holding out on talking to me about for the past few weeks?”

He gave you a small nod. “Yeah…”

During that conversation in his car all those weeks ago, he had said that what was going on with him was too hard to explain right then and you decided not to push him further on it because you knew that he’d tell you eventually.

You weren’t entirely sure why you suddenly felt worried about it all and what he was going to say to you in this moment; maybe it was because of the look on his face that was a solid mix between serious and nervous. “Okay. What is it?”

“I love you.”

The breath you let out was a mix between a laugh and sigh of relief because you were completely unfazed by his words. “Jesus, don’t scare me like that again. I love you too, Stevie.”

Was that all he had to tell you? That didn’t entirely make sense to you because it wasn’t like you two hadn’t said those words to each other a million times before. You expected him to laugh and smile along with you, but he only shook his head at first, which made you confused all over again.

“No,” He said, pushing a nervous hand through his messy hair. “I don’t mean it like how we’ve always meant it anymore. I’m… I’m in love with you.”

There were only a handful of times that you could say that your best friend had ever rendered you speechless; it was hard to completely stun you into silence when it came to him. Not much that Steve did could ever truly surprise you or throw you for a complete loop because you felt like you knew him well enough that most of his actions just made sense. The last time it happened was when he suggested that you two get Harold, he had never been a huge pet person so it genuinely surprised you when he was the one to come up with the idea.

And now you had another moment to add to the list; a moment that entirely topped all of the others.

“Oh.” It was the only word that came to your mind at that moment, and it was barely even a word, it was more so a sound. But, it was the only thing you could say. You didn’t understand how it was possible for your mind to be simultaneously empty and running a thousand miles a minute. “Oh.”

You could feel Steve’s eyes on you, but yours were fixed on the ground; your sock-covered feet and the dark wooden floors.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything,” He said, breaking the prevailing silence. And when you still couldn’t find any words to say in response to fill the quiet again, he started rambling. “This entire time, these past few weeks, I’ve been waiting for some sort of “perfect” moment to tell you, but nothing ever felt completely right. And then as you were leaving my room just now I realized that I don’t think that I was actually waiting for it to feel right to tell you— because, honestly, there were a bunch of moments where it did feel “right” enough. I was really just holding back because I was worried about what your reaction would be. And I don’t think there’d ever be a moment where I wasn’t at least a little scared or nervous to say it, so I finally decided to just do it now and tell you. But now, fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have said it.”

“No,” You told him, suddenly somehow finding your voice and finally allowing yourself to meet his eyes. “No, um, honesty is good. You should be, uh— You should be honest about everything. We’re always honest about everything, y’know? It’s good that you said it, I think? Right?”

You were certain that what you were saying didn’t make any sense; your mouth was moving much faster than your brain.

A confused look crossed his face. “Okay? Yeah?”

You dropped your gaze from his and turned around. “I’ll, uh, be right back. I just… I think I just need a second. I don’t know.”

You opened the door to your room and then stepped in, softly closing it behind you and leaving Steve on the other side. You let out a quick breath and leaned back against the door, shutting your eyes in the process, before sliding down it and sitting on the floor. It was cold and you could feel the goosebumps starting to rise on your legs that were only barely covered by your thin pajama shorts. But, the cold was surprisingly soothing, and focusing on that feeling helped clear your mind a bit. Slowly, your thoughts finally started making sense and your brain began moving somewhat normally again.

The sound of the floor creaking on the other side of the door let you know that Steve was sitting down and leaning back against it too. You wanted to say something to him, but it still felt impossible to find any words right then.

“I’m sorry,” You could hear his slightly muffled voice through the door. “I really didn’t want this to fuck things up between us, and now it has. And I’m sorry.”

“Things aren’t fucked up,” was what you immediately thought to say— it was actually the first coherent thought that came to your mind in the past few minutes— but, for some reason, it wouldn’t form on your lips.

Steve’s past words started playing on what seemed like a constant loop in your head.

I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you.

The only way you could view this situation, the only way you would allow yourself to view it, was logically. You weren’t considering your own feelings in this moment— whatever they were; you weren’t sure how you were feeling, and you actually refused to think about it right then.

“It’s not true, though,” You told him, making your voice loud enough so that he could hear you, even though it was hard to speak above a whisper.

“What?”

“It’s not true,” You said again and then let out a small sigh as you leaned your head back against the door. “You’re not in love with me.” The words felt so weird falling from your lips, so foreign. “You can’t be. Whatever you think you’re feeling now, it’ll blow over in a couple days or whatever.”

It was a thousand times easier having this conversation without having to look at him right then. You waited for him to agree with you, to maybe even let out a breath of a laugh as he said that you were right. Everything that happened in the past five minutes could become a moment that you two laughed at in a couple of weeks if he simply took it all back.

Remember when you told me that you were in love with me on your birthday? Yeah, that was kinda insane, right?

You actually couldn’t imagine playfully joking about this anytime soon. It would probably be the one thing between you two that would feel weird and awkward for a while— even more awkward than the moment when he accidentally walked in on you naked, and you accidentally did the same thing to him a few months later. But, just like those now unspoken of moments, this would blow over eventually too.

“No, it is true,” Steve said instead and the absolute certainty in his tone surprised you a bit. “That morning after you picked me up from the bar, it just hit me like a ton of bricks, and it hasn’t changed since. That day at the park when we played basketball, I was jealous that you liked that guy and wanted to get his number, and that’s why I was being kind of an asshole.” He let out a small sigh. “And I did think that maybe all of this would go away and ‘blow over’ too, but it hasn’t. Honestly, it’s only felt more real.”

You were quiet for a second, not knowing exactly how to respond to that at first. He was being a thousand percent honest— at this point, you knew that— but it was still just so hard to accept it all, to fully let yourself believe it. The thought of him wanting something more changed everything that you had been so sure of for the past almost ten years of friendship.

“Okay, very dumb question incoming, but you remember us meeting, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Steve’s answer was immediate. “That cruise when we were ten. Our parents bumping into each other and meeting and then kind of forcing us to be friends, but we were both glad to hang out with each other instead of them, anyway.”

You nodded at his words even though he couldn’t see you, and felt yourself smiling as you started talking.

“That trip was our first memory together, and it’s definitely still one of my favorites. We went to the arcade onboard like every day— I beat you a bunch of times at air hockey, but you were way too good at pretty much everything else. And we snuck into that stupid “club” meant for teens almost every night and never got caught, but we were still nervous about getting caught the entire time we were there. From the beginning, it was so clear what we were to each other, y’know? I think by the end of that trip I knew that you were my best friend. I knew that I wanted you in my life forever,” You said, slightly rambling and mindlessly starting to play with the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing, picking at one of the loose strings. “Basically, I guess what I’m trying to say is, the lines were clearly drawn pretty much the first day we met, and they’re not supposed to change.”

Steve didn’t say anything, and it was then that you wished that you two were standing, or sitting, right in front of each other because you wanted to see his face and attempt to gauge whatever was going on in his mind right then.

“But, it did change,” Was his response after what felt like an hour’s worth of silence, and somehow it was hearing him say those four simple words that made you finally accept everything he had said in the past ten minutes. You finally found yourself believing him entirely.

“At least, for me, it has,” He added, and there was something about the softness of the statement that managed to break you. A wave of tears hit you so abruptly that you didn’t even get a chance to process why it was happening before your vision became blurry.

You sniffled and then sighed, haphazardly pushing away some of the stray tears that managed to slip out and attempting to swallow the apple-sized lump that now sat heavy in your throat. “Shit. I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I’m crying right now.”

“Can I come in?”

Instead of verbally answering Steve’s question, you stood up and opened the door and he didn’t waste a second to pull you into his arms; he had seen you cry enough times to know exactly what to do at this moment. You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his chest, letting your tears soak his dark gray t-shirt, unable to hold them back anymore.

“It’s okay. I promise it’s okay,” He said softly as one of his hands lightly stroked your back. “Let’s just forget this ever happened; forget I said anything. I’ll get over all of it. We can just add this to the list of things to take to the grave, okay?”

He took your crying as a rejection, your way of saying that you didn’t feel the same way without actually saying it to him.

You didn’t see it that way, though. You honestly didn’t know how you felt— during this entire conversation, you hadn’t considered yourself. It just felt like second nature to immediately try and protect what you two had and not let it change in the slightest.

When you pulled back and looked up at him, you didn’t really know what you were expecting to see, but he didn’t look sad or upset, he just looked concerned about you.

You weren’t even entirely sure why you were crying at that moment. Everything that had happened in the past barely ten minutes just felt so overwhelming and confusing.

You sniffled again and then found yourself nodding at Steve’s previous words. “Okay.”

“Okay,” He gave you a small nod back.

You glanced down at his t-shirt, quickly taking notice of the wet spot on it even in the near complete darkness you two were in. “Sorry about your shirt.”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”

You hugged him again, pushing up on your toes and letting your arms circle around his neck. He didn’t hesitate to hug you back and that only made you hold him tighter.

“Can you stay in here, please?” You asked, voice quiet but Steve still heard you.

You felt his nod in response and then moments later you and him were in your bed, not even bothering to get under the covers, and instead simply settling in a position that was completely familiar; your back against his chest, one of his arms wrapped around you and keeping you close, and heads against the pillow. You took hold of his hand and gave it a light squeeze, not completely knowing what you meant with the gesture.

Neither of you said anything. Not for one minute, and then not for five according to the clock you took notice of on the nightstand.

There was a lot more that you knew the two of you needed to talk about. What just happened couldn’t be something that was forgotten and simply “taken to the grave.” It didn’t feel right to do that.

However, you were falling asleep with your hand still intertwined with Steve’s before you could even try and think of something to say to him.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

When your eyes opened again, the first thing that you noticed was that it was still dark outside. You glanced at the nightstand, taking a look at the clock, and it surprised you to see that only two hours had passed; it felt like so much longer.

You could feel Steve’s steady breathing behind you and that let you know that he was still sleeping. You shifted around to face him, surprisingly not waking him in the process. Your eyes were adjusted to the darkness that surrounded you both so you could see him pretty clearly; eyes shut and lips slightly parted and hair still a messy pile of bedhead.

For the first time probably ever you became so acutely aware of the close proximity between you two. You were only a few breaths away from each other, his arm was still around your waist, and your legs became a tangle of limbs. None of this had ever fazed you before, but it felt a little different now.

But, it did change.

It actually physically hurt realizing how right Steve was, and you had to close your eyes as you let the words swallow you whole for a second.

There was still a part of you that wanted to not think about everything Steve had said— the I love you that meant so much more now— but it felt impossible to do that. It completely took over your thoughts; consumed them, really.

You thought about how it was damn near effortless to picture something more with him; a something more that now felt so obvious, and in a way, so inevitable. You could see it all so easily.

You thought about past moments that had been shoved away for the sake of protecting your friendship. Late night drunk and high conversations shared between you and Steve that were always supposed to be long forgotten. Moments where the line between friendship and something more was playfully toed but never fully crossed, moments where you two would almost talk about actually crossing that line, moments where the smallest part of you would think about it.

Those moments, and the feelings that came along with them, were never supposed to be remembered when morning rolled around, but you always remembered them. And instead of doing anything about it or entertaining those thoughts in the slightest, you simply buried it all down and pushed it away. You placed all of those feelings in a box deep down inside of you that was never supposed to be opened.

However, now with Steve’s burst of honesty, it was opened; and you honestly didn’t feel the urge to bury it and push it back down anymore. Instead, you let the feelings that would lead to completely uncharted territories between you and him wrap around you like a warm blanket and find a home in your heart.

You opened your eyes again and let your gaze fall on Steve. You slowly pushed one of your hands through his hair, knowing that that would gradually stir him awake.

His eyes opened and he only blinked at you for a second before mumbling out a quiet, “Hi.”

“Hi,” You said, matching his soft tone.

He gave you a curious look, and you knew that he was probably wondering why you woke him up. You simply stayed quiet for a moment, pulling your hand out of his hair and letting it find his cheek instead.

“I love you too,” You whispered, not breaking his gaze. “I’m in love with you too.”

Just for a second, there was a part of him that looked surprised hearing your words, but then he was smiling at you, the softest and sweetest smile that actually made your heart ache.

Before he could say anything, you kept going. “And I’m sorry. I wish this could’ve been my reaction from the moment you said it first. I wish it would’ve hit me the second you said it. Books and movies make this thing look so much easier, but it’s actually really fucking hard.”

“I know. That’s why it took me almost a month to tell you.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”

“I’ve become a really good actor. Might make it my career now,” Steve joked and you laughed at that.

He kept smiling at you and you smiled back. A comfortable silence took over as the two of you simply looked at each other, admiring one another in the darkness that you’d still be surrounded by for the next few hours. Your eyes flickered down to his lips for a brief moment and then met his gaze again. Out of all of the things that could’ve been said or done right then, it only felt right to close that last breath of distance between you two and finally do one of the few things that you had never done with one another.

You let your nose brush against his for a brief second before you tilted your head upward a little and let your lips meet his.

The kiss was chaste at first, Kindergarten-sweet, not much more than just a simple peck. But then Steve was quickly kissing you back, his hand squeezing your waist and pulling you impossibly closer to him, and your hand went from cupping his cheek to tangling within the hair at the nape of his neck. He deepened the kiss with a graze of his tongue against your bottom lip, which elicited the softest sound from you, and you were hit with the sudden thought that you never wanted this moment to end. You wanted to savor this first kiss, revel in it, pretend as if nothing else existed except for you and Steve and this moment that you wished you could drag out for minutes, hours, years.

In a way, it was a little confusing how even though this was completely new, it didn’t at all feel like it. Maybe there should’ve been at least a tiny bit of awkwardness laced within this moment, but the soft feel of Steve’s lips against yours felt familiar, like home, like it was something that should’ve happened a thousand years ago. It was so fucking right.

You slowly pulled away when you needed to catch your breath and softly dropped your forehead against his, eyes still shut. “Shit. Fuck.”

Steve let out a breath of a laugh that fanned right against your cheek. “I agree.”

You lifted your head and pressed a quick kiss against his nose before pulling back a bit, meeting his eyes, and giving him a small smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” He said, smiling back and giving your waist a light squeeze. The warmth radiating from his touch made you wish that his hand was slipping past the hem of your t-shirt and actually touching your skin instead.

A part of you wanted to let out a small happy laugh at how things had so easily shifted. You were finally kissing the guy that you’d known since you were ten and since an irreplaceable friendship was forged on that weeklong cruise trip. Steve was still your best friend, that didn’t feel like it had changed at all, but that didn’t mean that things weren’t different now; better, in so many unexpected ways.

However, it also abruptly became a little scary— the thought of potentially losing everything you had with him if things ended badly.

That thought was why you had pushed all of your feelings away and never acknowledged them in the first place. There would always be that part of you that wanted to protect the friendship you two had.

“Promise,” You held out your pinky for him to take. “Promise that whatever happens, if this doesn’t work out somehow, we will not make it weird or grow distant or leave each other. I can’t lose you in my life. I need you, no matter what.”

He didn’t hesitate to link his pinky with yours as he nodded. “Promise.”

“And we should just keep all of this between us for now, maybe,” You said, the idea coming to you randomly but it made sense in your head; it felt like the logical thing to do. “Just in case.”

“Just in case?”

“Just in case we end up imploding immediately or something, I don’t know.”

You could tell that Steve couldn’t really see that happening— and in a way, neither could you— but at that moment he let himself agree with you, anyway. “Okay.”

Your lips found his again for a second before you shifted around and settled back in the position you two had fallen asleep in. Steve pulled you back against him, arm circling your waist, and you let out a sigh in contentment as he pressed the softest kiss against your neck.

A comforting silence began to linger and you broke it after a few minutes, hoping that Steve hadn't fallen asleep just yet.

“I’m really glad this is happening right now. Like, really, really glad. I love everything about this moment. And I love you. Like, a lot. And, yes, I know exactly how cheesy I sound right now."

His mouth brushed right against your ear and you could practically hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. “Yes, that was very cheesy. I loved it. And I love you too.”

You only grabbed his hand and pressed a soft kiss against it in response.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Okay, dingus, I know that you’re probably gonna hate me for saying this,” Robin started as she set her mug back on the table of the booth the four of you had been sitting in for the past twenty minutes. The cup looked way too close to the edge of the table, so you reached out and moved it over a bit. “But, I really need you to get a picture of you and your smiley face pancake.”

Eddie immediately laughed and nodded. “That’s a great idea.”

You turned and looked at Steve, smiling at him. “Please do it. It would be such a missed opportunity if that didn’t happen right now.”

He only rolled his eyes. “I hate all of you for telling the waitress that it’s my birthday.”

The moment you mentioned it to Carol after she asked the reason why you all were in Denver for the weekend, she smiled and said a “Happy Birthday” to Steve before taking your orders. And then when everything came out, she also handed him a pancake that had a whipped cream smiley face, two cherries for the eyes, and a candle in the middle as the nose.

Robin pulled the Polaroid camera out of her bag and pointed it at Steve. “Okay, hold up the plate and smile, birthday boy. God, I wish we had party hats right now.”

“I’m glad we don’t,” He said with another eye roll but still proceeded to hold up the plate and give her a quick annoyed smile.

When he put the plate back down, you stole one of the cherry eyes and then started on your waffle. The conversation shifted away from Steve and his adorable birthday pancake and went to talking about hitting the slopes in the afternoon. You had been in the middle of mentioning that the drive would only take about thirty minutes when you felt Steve’s hand find yours underneath the table and link it with his. The booth was small and you were already sitting shoulder to shoulder, so the action went completely unnoticed by your friends sitting across from you.

You and Steve had held hands countless times before, but it felt so much more significant in this moment because now the meaning behind it was so different— this was no longer just a friendly handhold. It was hard to fight how much you wanted to immediately smile at the subtle action, but you kept your face straight and managed to finish out your thought.

You fought the sudden urge you had to lean your head against his shoulder or kiss his cheek, and instead grabbed your mug with your free hand and took a sip of your coffee. You tried your hardest to pay attention to the conversation taking place at the table— Robin talking about how she was nervous about skiing for the first time, and Eddie saying that yes she probably would be bad at it. However, all you could really focus on was Steve; his hand intertwined with yours and the warmth radiating from the subtle touch.

You felt equivalent to a lovesick teenager with a crush that actually wasn’t a crush at all because that word wasn’t enough to fully describe how you felt about him. It would be hard keeping this a secret for the time being, and the smallest part of you questioned why you even proposed that idea. But, for the most part, you still agreed with your “just in case” reasoning. If exploring this uncharted territory with Steve somehow ended up becoming the worst idea ever, it would be good that you didn’t tell anyone about it because you two could go back to being just friends without anyone else in the group knowing what happened.

You hated thinking like that— that it all would or could end, that one or both of you would come to realize that this actually wasn’t a good idea. But, it felt too hard not to think about it for at least a split second.

Steve gave your hand a light squeeze, it felt both comforting and questioning; maybe he could tell you were getting so deep into your head about something.

“Feel free to steal the other cherry,” He told you. Your eyes met his and he gave you a look that said everything he really wanted to tell you at that moment but couldn’t, and you let your nonsensical worries wash away for the time being with that reassuring look.

You placed your coffee mug down and then grabbed the second cherry from his plate, smiling at him as you did so. “Thanks.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington series #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #stranger things imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fic

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drchucktingle · 2 months

Note

do you have any advice for writers who are trying to get their first book published?

as usual i will preface this with the reminder there is no 'correct' way to make art. i am not universally 'right' about any of this, but i can let you in on my thoughts and things i have noticed if that helps

more than anything what i would recommend to any artist is to find joy in the TROT, not the result. set goals that are in the action of doing, not in some future ending where you have 'become' something.

in other words, i have never dreamed of being a writer, i dream of writing.

its not about being an actor one day, its about a life of acting. its not about being a painter one day, its about a life of painting. its not about being a singer one day, its about a life of singing. if you can find joy and gratitude and RESONATE WITH THIS TIMELINE through the act of creation, then there really is no stopping you because you are not relying on any external systems to reach your goals you are fueled entirely from yourself. this also accounts for the fact that LUCK AND CIRCUMSTANCE are a huge factor in many of these big dreams, but they are rarely a huge factor in your ability to simply create. you are already a creator, we are all creators

when you do this the timeline will bend to you, not the other way around

as a BUSINESS BUCKAROO i will never do anything that is me BEGGING AND PLEADING for attention from a larger entity (publishing company, tv studio, what the heck ever). i am not over here worried and biting my fingernails. anything that feels like a LOTTO TICKET where i say 'please please please pick me' is not how i operate. instead i love working with buckaroos who see me as an equal entity and the discussion is 'you are cool, we are cool, lets trot together'

how did i get to the place where this is a mutual conversation instead of chuck begging for crumbs of attention? i focused on LOVING THE ACT OF CREATING not the desire to be a creator.

chucks big five publishing deal happened because i wrote a horror novel myself and then tweeted out 'would anyone like to traditionally publish this book?'. no query letters, no agent, THATS IT.

but that is ALSO the short version. the long version is that i spent a decade creating and publishing my own stuff BECAUSE I LOVE CREATING AND PUBLISHING MY OWN STUFF

THAT is how i would recommend approaching these things. YOU are doing your cool as heck thing and when that starts to resonate with this timeline others will be drawn to it. if that means sending out query letters to agents and all that then HECK YEAH go for it bud, just so long as you maintain the MENTALITY that you are looking for an equal partner not a one in a million ticket BECAUSE YOU WILL BE MAKING THIS INCREDIBLE ART ANYWAY, AND IF THEY WANT TO COME ALONG AND RIDE WITH YOU THEN LETS TROT, AND IF NOT LETS STILL TROT BECAUSE YOU ARE A VALID, WORTHY CREATOR REGARDLESS

so i guess thats my publishing advice

#buckaroo lifestyle #chuck tingle #publishing

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briefalpacashark · 1 month

Text

~Cowboys and Men~ Part One ~

Synopsis : The 141 have to play cowboys.

================================================

You sat along with the other boys of the 141 as you stared at Laswell. She had just delivered the news of your next mission.

“Well shit,” you grin widely. Why? The mission was right up your alley. You had personal experience practically having grown up in the thick of it. The boys, however. You were almost certain that none of them had even come close to anything like it.

The mission. Going undercover in an American rodeo.

“So you want us to play cowboy?” Price asked.

“That’s right. Long enough till you find this guy and bring him in,” she stated tapping her knuckle on a photo of the target. An older man with a grim surrounded by gray hair and a killer mustache.

“Y/N you'll be the one participating in the rodeo. The boys will be your team,” Laswell explained simply.

“Her team?” Jonny asked, jabbing his thumb at you. “Why can't I be the horse rider huh?” he asked.

“Can you ride a horse?” Laswell asked.

“Well no, canne be hard, can it?” his question had you chuckling.

“Its an invite only event, we've got a contact. You'll head out tomorrow to show him what you got. He'll slot you in where he can,” Laswell focused on you as she spoke.

“Sure thing boss,” you nodded.

“Honestly Laswell, I think I could do a pretty good job,” Jonny stated.

“The fact that you think a rodeo only involves horses proves how unqualified you are for it,” You stated.

“And you are?” Jonny asked.

“I grew up in the saddle of a horse, mate. You're looking at a genuine drover,” you gestured to your body with a smirk.

“The fuck is a drover?” Jonny asked the rest of the team. Gaz simply shrugged.

“Alright dismissed,” Laswell said.

You were quickly dispatched to the good old US of A. You were dropped off in a random field via helicopter. Your team walked up to two men on horseback. The one on the left was tall and buff with golden hair to die for. The other was slightly shorter and stubbier. But they both had one thing in common. They looked like genuine cowboys. Hats and everything.

“Howdy!” Jonny called with a terrible American accent.

“Fucken hell,” you chuckled, shaking your head.

“Forgive him. He's hit his head a few too many times,” Price stated.

“That stunt his growth too?” The blond asked. Your laugh broke through your lips as Jonny’s smile fell.

“The one you just shut up is Soap, that's Gaz, Ghost. I’m Bravo and that’s Doc.” he pointed you all out the cowboys, tipping their hat’s to you.

“Ma’am, I heard you're the only one with experience in the saddle,” the smile the blond gave you was slightly flirtatious.

“Since I was two. Grew up on a cattle station over in Australia,” You stated walking up to him to give them both a firm handshake.

“How could you choose the military life over one in the saddle?” he asked.

“Plan to get back to it one day,” you said your attention being grabbed by his horse that tried to nibble your jacket.

“He's gorgeous. Mustang?” You asked, reaching up to brush his nose.

“Yes Ma’am,” he nodded. “Care for a ride?” he asked with a wink. You chuckled at his obvious flirting attempt.

“Sorry mate. Not planning in hoping in any saddle that aint my own,” you said, giving the horse a pat.

“Alright, well, this is Sam, my name's Aurthur,” he stated.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Price stated spoke up drawing the attention off you.

“Pleasures all ours, Come on by the looks of you, it seems like we've got some work to do,” he stated.

“Work of what?” Gaz asked.

“To make you a lot cowboys,” he said with a grin.

First order of business, if you were to pass for cowboys, you had to look the part. Aurthur generously offered to take you all shopping. Your choice was quick, picked out for practicality. A simple light blue button up. A pair of denim jeans, a comfortable pair of boots and your old hat. You pulled the beat up looking thing out of your bag. It was your simple cattleman hat shape, in a dusty brown colour. It was scuffed and dirty, but it was yours. Setting it atop your head, you smiled at the familiar feeling. Slipping on the dark leather jacket, you fixed the collar before stepping out of the changing room.

“Look out,” Jonny stated from their allocated seats, all gathered in front of the changing rooms.

“So how do I look?” You asked, giving them a little pose.

“Like one hell of a rider,” Aurthur spoke up.

“So so,” Gaz tilted his hand back and forth.

“Oh yeah, let's see you do better,” you said tauntingly.

“Watch a master at work,” Gaz stated. You all waited for his outfit choice. When he stepped out you almost died of laughter. Tassels, tassels and fringe everywhere. On his head sat a bright red Tom Mix hat.

“What you don't think it's good?” he asked jokingly.

“You look like you'll fly away in a light breeze,” Jonny joked.

“Eat shit soap,” Gaz flipped him off.

“Nah, I'll show you how it's done,” Jonny spoke up. Yells of shock sounded from you all as he walked out in a pair of assless chaps. Only they weren't assless. In fact you saw a lot of ass due to the fact that Jonny only wore the chaps. Nothing else. He held a small bowler's hat in front of his privates as he pretended to act confused. He turned around, giving you a clear view of his rosy red cheeks.

“Fucken hell,” you chuckled, tipping your hat down to cover your gaze.

“You know, I don't think I put these on in the right order,” he stated. Even the Price cracked a chuckle or two.

“Might get a rash ridding a saddle like that,” Ghost stated.

“I like it,” you said. Jonny gave you a wink.

“Come on Captain,” Jonny encouraged Price when his ass was contained again.

Price walked out in a good pairing. A deep red button up, a pair of jeans, some lovely light brown boots, a light brown fleece jacket and a white brick shaped hat.

“Captain my captain,” You whistled.

“Where did you find that fashion sense cap?” Ghost asked.

“Quiet you,” Price warned playfully.

“You know those videos where a baby sees their dad with their beard shaved for the first time and they just break out crying,” You asked. Jonny hummed in acknowledgment.

“I feel like that with that hat he's wearing,” you whispered. Jonny chuckled.

“Alright Ghost your turn,” Jonny said slapping Ghost shoulder. Ghost slowly moved his eyes from the captain to Jonny daring him to hit him again.

“Alright, be that way grumpy,” Jonny muttered. “Guess it's my turn again,” he stated. With your help, Jonny walked out in a tight black long sleeve shirt, a denim jacket and jeans. Black boots and a brown rolled brim with a puncher crown. He looked alright apart from the obviously large belt buckle he wore. A picture of a bulls head engraved on it.

“Compensating?” you asked, nodding to the buckle, getting a bird flipped to you.

“At least his ass is covered this time,” Ghost grumbled. Gaz tried again, deciding on a cowboy version of a lumberjack. Plated shirt with a vest jacket, a dark blue pair of jenes and a black version of his original hat.

“Careful Gaz, that shirt looks a little tight,” Jonny called.

“That's the point,” Gaz stated with a smirk flexing his biceps.

“They can try all they want. The look of a cowboy is something that comes naturally. A look, ma’am that if you'll let me say looks extremely good on you,” Arthur leaned down to whisper to you. You smirked, shrugging.

“I don't know, I think they're pulling it off,” you stated. You chuckled as Gaz tried to perform his best cowboy walk. Hand on his belt and slaughtering forward before making a gun motion with his hand. And Jonny, who pretended to slow motion, to doge said bullets.

“Yeah sure,” Arthur muttered, making you chuckle harder. As you continued to watch Gaz and Jonny make a fool of themselves, you failed to notice a certain pair of eyes set on you.

“Careful Lieutenant, you glare any harder and he might just get the message,” Price smirked as he saw the slightly pissed expression hidden behind the skull mask.

“Don't know what you mean, sir,” Ghost grumbled before walking away.

Noticing Ghost's missing presence, you went to look for him, finding him in front of the many hats on display.

“Having trouble choosing?” You asked, walking up to him.

“Any pointers?” he asked.

“Can't help you there. This was my uncle's hat. He lost it when I won a bet,” you said.

“But,” you trailed off, your eyes searching through the hats. You smiled, reaching out to grab one.

“Yeah, this one,” you said, placing it on his head. It was low and pinched a grayish black.

“Yeah, that suits you,” you stated simply with a satisfied nod before walking away.

When you all returned to the ranch, Simon changed into his outfit. Black jeans, dark brown boots, a black leather jacket and dark grey button up. On his head sat the hat you chose, and he still wore his skull balaclava.

“Well hello handsome,” Jonny called as he walked out to you.

“Zip it Mc’tavish,” he grumbled. Jonny chuckled as he walked up to you. In the pen Arthur walked out a horse already saddled up. Spotting other ranchers gathering round to watch with eager grins, you quickly assessed what was happening. It was a bucking horse, or at least one they were trying to break.

“Alright, lesson one of being a cowboy. Staying on a horse that doesn't want you to stay on,” Arthur stated with a wide grin.

“Any volunteers?” he asked. You chuckled, shaking your head as Jonny raised his hand eagerly.

“Love the spirit scots, man. This here is Bessy,” Arthur said, gesturing him forward. You whipped your mouth as Jonny confidently made his way into the pen.

“Ello Bessy,” he smirked.

“I'd say goodbye to your balls now Soap, while you have the chance,” you called out to him.

“Ah, away with ye. I'll be fine,” Jonny waved you off.

“He's gonna eat shit isn't he?” Ghost asked folding his arms over his chest.

“All five courses of it,” you chuckled, pulling yourself up to sit on the railings.

“He has medical cover right?” you asked Price that only shock his head at his soldier stupidity.

“Alright Soap. hold on tight,” After Arthur gave him a basic run down and when Jonny was sat comfortable in the saddle did he stepped back.

“You're gonna set a timer, wanna make sure there is proof when I stay on longer than those bastards,” Jonny nodded back to you all, giving you a wide confident grin as the horse started to pad at the ground.

“Sure thing, champ,” Arthur grinned. “Go on, give her a kick,” he suggested casually, taking a few cautious steps back.

“What like this?” Jonny asked, kicking his heels gently into her sides.

You knew pigs couldn't fly, but Jonny sure could. One buck had the poor man was out of the saddle onto the horses ass, then the second buck had the man cartwheeling through the air before landing flat on his ass his legs split in front of him. You and Gaz was practically dying of laughter as Jonny rolled around in pain holding his manly jewels. After Jonny’s poor first display, the ranchers started to pass around bets.

“Who's next?” Arthur asked, turning to you lot.

Gaz sat on the back of Bessy looking like he was about to shit himself.

“Ok what do I do?” he asked shakily.

“Hold on,” Arthur stated simply.

“I know that, but I don't know the first thing about horses. Do do I pat it?” he asked.

“Sure, it probably won't do you any good though,” Arthur shrugged walking back.

“Come on Gaz,” you called encouragingly.

“I changed my mind, I want to get down,” Gaz stated. As he shifted his weight in the saddle, Bessy fell into a fit. Bucking and kicking like crazy. Gaz lasted about four seconds before he was bucked off.

“This is bullshit,” Gaz grumbled, limping back to you trying to remove the dirt from his mouth.

“Are the betting on us?” Jonny asked nodding to the growing group.

“There ranchers, this is probably the best entertainment they've had all week,” you stated.

“Yeah well they should stop,” Gaz grumbled.

“Why? They're actually betting in your favor,” you lied.

“Really?” he asked with a small grin of hope.

“No,” you chuckled, shaking your head, Gaz's smile instantly falling.

“Your acting way too high and mighty or this,” Gaz stated.

“I think I'm acting the right amount of high and mighty for my skills,” You shrugged.

“Skills we haven't seen yet,” Gaz grumbled.

“I don't need to prove anything,” you shrugged.

“Well, if ye so confident in yourself lass. How bout a wee little bet?” Jonny asked.

“Depends on what it is,” you smirked. With the smirk Jonny already knew you accepted the bet.

“If anyone of us can last longer than you, you owe us all a week of sick leave,” Jonny put the offer forward. In the military you need a doctor's note or your medic's permission to have a sick day. Which was practically impossible to get. You don't abuse your power but you didn't put up with their bullshit either. So they only ever got sick leave when they were actually sick. And not a man cold either, they had to actually be sick.

“And what do I get?” you asked.

“Bragging rights?” Jonny suggested.

“I'll settle for a picture of you in the outfit you rocked back at the shop,” you stated, pointing to him. Jonny grinned widely.

“Deal,” he said as you too shook on it.

“You ready, boss?” Jonny asked, turning to Price.

“A week of sick leave, you said?” he asked, debating if he wanted to be a part of your shenanigans.

“Yes sir,” you nodded.

“Right,” he muttered, pushing his hat further down on his head before slipping in the coral and shaking his jacket off his shoulders.

You had to give it to Price, he was pretty good. And he looked like he stepped right out of a cow boy movie. The mustache and the fit was just perfect. You sucked in a breath as he was thrown from the horse. Impressed cheers came from the others. He lasted almost ten seconds.

“Ghost?” Jonny suggested.

“I prefer to keep my balls unpopped,” Ghost grumbled.

“Guess that's me then,” You spoke up. Walking up to Bessy you smiled brushing her nose before walking round her to where Arthur stood.

“Need a hand?” he offered.

“Nah mate,” you said effortlessly, swinging yourself up onto the saddle and taking the reins in hand. The familiar creak of the leather saddle and the ruff feel of the reins was welcoming. You settled into the back of the saddle, leaning back slightly. You pressed your hat down far enough down your forehead that the only thing you saw was your hands and the horse's shoulder blades.

“Alright, lets fucking do this,” you whispered before gently kicking her. You leaned back as far as you could and pulled the reins tight as she bucked wildly. Your body was jerked about left and right back and forth, yet you held on. The boys had to admit they were impressed. The ranchers cheered as the seconds drew on. As you hit the thirty second mark you swore as the horse slammed up against the side of the railings. To avoid you leg getting crushed you lumped off, the force sending you flying over the fence, right into Arthur who just happened to be sitting stop it. The two of you hit the ground in a cloud of dust. A relatively soft fall for you due to you landing on the cowboy.

“Fuck you alright?” You asked as you quickly hopped off the poor man.

“Look at that, falling for you already,” he groaned, painfully accepting your hand to help him up.

“That line usually work?” you asked with a small smile. You had to admit he was kinda cute.

“Well I don't usually have pretty women tackling me off the fence but here we are,” he said. You chuckled, shaking your head picking up your hat.

“How long was that Jonny!?” You yelled across the coral.

“Too fucking long!” he yelled back. You grinned smugly making your way back over to the boys.

Gaz and Jonny were adamant on getting those sick days. Price opted in for a few more tries, coming only four seconds from your record before he called it quits.

“Not gonna have a go Ghost?” you asked nudging his side.

“Risk getting hurt before the mission, not likely,” he stated as you watched Jonny narrowly avoid a broken bone.

“Fair enough,” you muttered. The boys could not beat your best. With bruised bodies and prides you all retired to your a few spar rooms in the bunkhouse.

The next morning, you all gathered before dawn. Arthur said you were gonna learn how to ride. The boys walking a bit slower than they usually would. You were all assigned horses. Ghost and Price and Gaz were going well after some instruction. And Jonny. Well let's just say he wasn't built to ride horses. He just couldn't wrap his head around it. Loud laughs sounded as the horse started to trot slightly, sending your little scotsman's bouncing rapidly in his saddle.

“Fu-Uck En H-EL-LL,” he said through bounces as his head bobbled around. You rode up to him gently pulling on the rains to get the horse to slow down.

“Come on Mate. your ancestors road these guys into battle,” You said.

“Nah, these are American horses. If it was a scottish horse I would be grand,” he stated definitely. Amused by his logic, you just shook your head. To your surprise, Simon pulled up on the other side of Jonny. “Having a bit of trouble there?” Ghost asked smuggle. “Fuck Ye LT,” Jonny grunted, trying to glare only for him to slid sideways in the saddle. You reached out holding his jacket to keep him steady as he readjusted. Ghost smirked before trotting forward. You rode up to his side looking over his posture, one hand resting on his thigh, the other holding both the reins.

“You’ve done this before,” you stated.

“When I was a kid,” he muttered.

“It shows, You're a natural,” you said.

“Not as good as you,” he said.

“Oh stop it, you'll make me blush,” you grinned. He glanced over at your smile, grunting in response.

“So this is your dream, huh?” he asked. Your grin turned into a fond smile.

“Yeah. I want a nice plot of land in the tablelands,” you stated.

“Table lands?” Ghost asked.

“I'll admit you guys have some nice green pastures in England. But the tablelands. Man, it's something different altogether. Rolling green hills right out of a picture book. It's high up, lots of rain, and rainforests. Fog will roll over the hills in the cold mornings and arvos. I'll have five horses, shit ton of chickens and cows. Maybe a goat or two,” your shrugged. “Two dogs. One working kelpie and and little staffy,” you continued.

“A big old cottage that I built myself. Oh, it's gotta have a basement. Definitely a secret passage. Maybe a fake skeleton chucked in there.” your words had Simon smiling as his eyes settled on you. Settled on the sparkle of your eyes as you described it all.

“Oh and there will be this big ol tree. If I have a family I'll string it up with fairy lights and lanterns. I'll invite you boys round for week long adventures. Big ol fire place next to it,” you reminisce of a life that you possibly might never get to live. After all, your job wasn't necessarily safe.

“Oh so I’m a part of this future huh?” he asked. The instant your gaze turned to him he realized what he said. His face flushed as your smile became impossibly brighter.

“Of course,” you stated simply. Only when you did think of all those things you left out one key part. Whenever you thought about your future, the annoying prick in front of you would pop into the frame. Helping you build the cottage. Putting one of his masks on the fake skeletons. Him in the tree hanging up the lights. Him sitting next to you around the roaring fire. Clearing his throat his face flushed deeply as he looked back to the path in front of you. You didn't see the flush though. You simply saw him avoiding your gaze. For a moment, he wondered if he was having a heart attack. He thought it was the only explanation for his rapid heartbeat.

“Were going for a run care to join?” Arthur called back to you.

“Sure,” you called back.

“So you ready to show me just how good you are?” You leaned over to Ghost with a taunting

“Perhaps,” he grunted.

“First one to the tree up on that ridge,” you suggested.

“Are we betting anything?” he asked.

“Bragging rights?” you shrugged. “On three?” you suggested.

“Alright, three,” he stated kicking his horse into a gallop. An excited grin stretched across your face as you did the same. The cantering group let out exclamations of surprise as you two zoomed past them in a full gallop. Even with his headstart you quickly caught up to him. Riding would forever feel different to everything in your life. It felt like flying, but so much more magical. As you were neck and neck you looked over to Ghost who looked to you. With a wink, you dropped the reins, opening your arms out as the horse pulled forward. You won by just an inch.

The next day it was game time. You were strapped up and dressed up for your rodeo. You left a little earlier than the boys. You were hanging around beer in hand playing the part as Arthur introduced you to a few people. Chucking your watch you glanced at the time.

“They should be here by now,” you muttered.

“Speak of the devils,” Arthur muttered nodding behind you. A low whistle left your lips as you took them in.

As everyone took them in. Women, buckle bunnies and men had their eyes set on the group. They looked like a master piece of hot manliness. And you had to admit they looked good enough to have anyone's panties dropped with just a word. There boots kicking up dust as they strutted through the crowd. You swore the music was perfect of their entrance, looking like a scene out of a movie.

“Boys,” you nodded to them as they approached.

“Anna,” Price nodded to you. Your cover name for the mission.

“Come on, I've got to introduce you to someone,” Arthur stated beckoning you all over. You sucked in a small breath as he took you all to the target.

“Tommy,” Arthur greeted the man like old friends.

“Arthur, how are you, my boy?” he asked. He was an older man, a true cowboy.

“Good Good,” Arthur nodded as they embraced.

“So you're the one Arthurs has been speaking about. You should know outsiders aren't usually welcome here,” the target stated as he turned to you.

“What scared of the challenge?” you asked with a teasing smile. The man paused a beat before breaking out into laughter.

“She's a spunk fire all right. Name’s Tom, everyone calls me Tommy,” he greeted holding his hand out to you.

“Anna,” you introduced yourself.

“Anna, you dont look like an Anna,” he said.

“Oh yeah, what do I look like?” you asked.

“Some real classy name. Like Evangeline or somethin,” he stated.

“Well, you certainly look like a Tommy,” you said.

“Why thank you ma’am,” he tipped his hat to you.

“And who are these fellas?” he asked turning to the boys.

“I'm her manager, Cole,” Price introduced himself. “These boys are on the team,” he stated, pointing to the rest who gave nods.

“I see, well fellas I'll see you out there,” he stated giving you another nod before walking off.

“So we grabbing him?” Jonny asked.

“To many people here,” Price mumbled.

“After the main event you'll have your chance, that's when he goes home,” Arthur said. You nodded, glancing around you. Fancy profession buckers were walking all round you.

“Nervous Darling?” Arthur asked. The boys gaze snapped to him, some pissed of some surprised. The way American men say darling is just something different.

“I'm about to strap myself to a state of the art bucking horse. Of corse im fucking nervous,” you muttered.

“Don't worry. Come on, there are some other events before. Let's get you warmed up,” he stated. You needed to keep your mind occupied, so you agreed. Steer wrestling and roping was your go to. You didn't place first in anything but you didn't do too bad. The boys looked at you in a different light as you rode beside a young bull, jumping off your horse to wrestle it to the ground, flipping it over and tying its legs up.

“God damn,” Jonny whispered as you stood to your feet holding your hands in the air.

“She's good, really good,” Arthur stated as he stood by the boys.

“That's our girl,” Price stated simply.

“So, what are you lot to her?” he asked.

“What?” Gaz asked squinting at the man.

“You lot seem real close. I know you're a team but I don't want to step on anyone's toes, I'm a gentle man like that,” he shrugged.

“What do you mean step on anyone's toes?” Price asked, his arms folding over his chest taking on the protective dad stance.

“Look if she's spoken for I'll back off. But I don't see no ring, and she calls you all by name. No pet names,” Arthur trailed off before turning to Ghost.

“So I guess im asking what are you to her,” the question was pointed at Ghost the boys quickly catching on. Ghost turned fully to him tucking his hand under his arm pits where his guns sat, hidden by his jacket. Although he made a point to let the smooth metal peek out.

“I'm the guy that fucks you up seven ways to Sunday if you hurt her,” his voice was deathly low, shaking Arthur up a bit. Yet it was Simon's glare that had the man really scared.

But he also got the answer he wanted.

“So she's available?” Arthur pointed out with a grin.

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=Cowboys and Men = Part Two here=

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~COD Master List Here~

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#141 x reader #cod 141 #cod ghost #141 x you #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #task force 141 #tf 141 #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod

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6sakusa · 1 year

Text

𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

Content: FWB relationship, missionary, fingering, mating press, creampie, riding, jealous!eren, him just being soft tbh.

A/N: Not proof read and written on a whim sorry not sorry.

Summary: Eren Jaeger is genuinely incapable of doing friends with benefits, he always seems to have problems with the ‘no strings attached’ part of it all.

You knew some of Eren’s friends and he was pretty renowned around campus, so the day you met him you can believe that you were pleasantly surprised to say he lived up to the hype and more in terms of his gorgeous face. Surprisingly he took quite an interest in you, the pretty girl with Jean’s arm slinged around her shoulders? Oh he’s got to know more. When he got your number he was elated and as expected, it didn’t take more than a few text exchanges before getting you in his bed but something about this was different. Maybe he was just pussy-whipped but he genuinely, for the life of him, couldn’t stop fucking you.

“T-Too much.” You manage to get out through your moans, it’s practically incoherent but by the way you’re clawing at his back while he’s balls deep inside, hammering you in missionary while he presses light kisses to your collarbone even has him surprised. He pulls away from you, slightly, just slightly to your earlobe where he whispers, “You can take it for me, can’t you?”

And of course you do, but the strangest part is that even when Eren fills up the condom he can’t stop, pushing your legs against your chest and fucking you in all kinds of devious angles that have you falling apart in seconds. “Fuck I can’t stop, can’t believe I wasn’t in this pussy sooner.” He whines out against your ear, pushing the both of you into overstimulation countless times.

It’s safe to say you were spent after that but to his your surprise and his, the next day he’s calling you again, asking if you wanted to come over. There was one rule that Eren Jaeger lived by, never fuck the same girl twice. It was simply because he didn’t want to give them the wrong impression, he wasn’t looking for anything serious, anything along the lines of a relationship was an absolute no-go, so he thought it was best to avoid any remnants of that all together. But yet he’d somehow convinced himself there wasn’t any harm in going at it with you again, you were his best afterall.

By the third time he told himself it would be the last time, that was a lie. As hard as he tried to get you off of his mind it wasn’t possible, sex with any other girl felt mediocre after you which left him with only one choice: Running back to you.

“So what do you think about us making this a thing?” He stops halfway through unbuttoning your top, he’s got you trapped underneath him, pupils blown out from your makeout session from just seconds ago.

“A thing?” You raise your eyebrow, a light chuckle escapes your lips in amusement from such cryptic language and for some reason it pulls at Eren’s heartstrings. What was this overwhelming urge to hear you do it again suddenly?

“Yeah a thing.” He repeats, “Like we fuck, no strings attached.” He asks nervously, fumbling with the next button on your shirt a little nervously.

“Are you asking for friends with benefits?” Your expression contorts into one of disbelief, for a second he thinks he’s messed this up and he’s about to lose the best sex he’s had in his entire life until he hears another laugh escape from your lips. “Okay, no strings attached.”

And just like that his lips are back on yours again.

Turns out you really do become friends, you talk constantly on the phone which though, does usually lead to sexting over the following weeks you become closer and closer to one another. The next time Eren tries to get with a new girl his mind wanders back to you, your pretty face, your gorgeous body, your cute little laugh. And the moment he gets his cock out to fuck her it won’t get hard, like physically it can’t. That was definitely one of the most embarrassing experiences of his life, not only was his mind being stupid but now he couldn’t even control his dick when it wasn’t about to be inside of you. That day he left that girl very disappointed, a huge blow to his ego and perhaps reputation but for some reason he finds himself outside your door instead of his own dorm he was planning on going home to.

And surprise surprise, the moment he sees your face, peering up at him with your head cocked into the side in confusion as to why he’s showed up without a word at this time, oh he’s rock solid. Naturally, to make up for such an intrusion he fucks you crazy, enough that it takes twenty minutes for you to regain your ability to speak afterwards. He’s convinced he’s in a slump right now, soon enough he’ll get over this and be back to getting around with whatever women he wants and then he’ll be able to end your agreement once and for all. Yep, that was the plan.

“How are you gonna get home?” You raise an eyebrow, walking out of the bathroom with a toothbrush in your mouth. He can’t help but laugh at you, no one would’ve known how hard you were getting fucked just an hour prior. “You didn’t drive here right? So you left your car.”

“I can walk.” He pulls up his sweats back up, looking at you in a manner that he probably shouldn’t be.

“You can stay the night if you’d like.” You wave him off, wandering back into the bathroom to finish off. It takes him much longer than he should to respond but he does, eventually.

“Here?”

“What?” You laugh, cocking your head to the side. “You don’t like my place?”

“The beds a little small.” He jokes, peering down at the same thing you just fucked on. You roll your eyes, grabbing yourself some fresh pyjamas from your wardrobe. “Well I’m sorry that it wasn’t designed for a six foot four man.”

“Don’t do that, you’ll boost my ego.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Through all the jokes between the two of you his head is screaming at him that this isn’t a good idea, but when you show him your favourite blanket that he wouldn’t be allowed to use he’s convinced of two things. You’re way too cute to say no to, and the fact that you won’t share your things with him is a good sign. This isn’t intimate, it’s nothing but a good friend doing him a favour.

There just wasn’t one thing he’d anticipated, how much he would love cuddling you in your bed. This was detrimental for him because now he craved it after sex. The next time he was finished with you he opened his arms out once you’d cleaned yourself up, albeit awkwardly considering he’s never consciously done this before.

“What?” You look at him with confusion, your expression only deepens when he frowns, “You hungry or something? We can order food.”

“Yeah.. what are you up for?” He mutters out, closing his arms instantly. That was the last time he decided to not have the courage to ask you to cuddle because he felt strangely empty afterwards.

Obviously, you’re a bit surprised when the emerald eyed devil in all his six foot glory stutters when mumbling, “C-Can we cuddle?”

“Huh? You wanna cuddle?” You almost snort, Eren had obviously avoided anything on any lines of being intimate, the second the two of you had a conversation unrelated to sex and he realised that he would waste zero time throwing an inappropriate joke in. Just a reminder of what your relationship with eachother entailed, nothing more.

“Why are you saying it like that?” He pouts, rubbing his temple with two of his fingers lightly. You seemed surprised and he definitely felt embarrassed.

“I just didn’t expect it from you.” Your furrow your eyebrows, realising that oh, Eren Jaeger was actually being serious when he was asking you to cuddle right now. You seemed reluctant and that’s when he knew that you were in deep in this agreement as he was. Fuck, you might even be worse. You’ve never proposed to do anything intimate and now you even looked like you were about to flatly reject his proposition, how had he let it come to this. There was only one solution, pull out the big guns and guilt trip you out of his embarrassment, “I thought we were friends with benefits, don’t humans need physical touch to survive? That sounds like a benefit to me.” He folds over his arms, all whiny with pink littering his cheeks.

“Okay okay.” You scoff, rolling your eyes, knowing that he could go on until tomorrow if you didn’t stop him. You make your way over to him on the bed, allowing him to engulf you in his arms. He relishes in his victory with a smug expression on his face for a few minutes until you randomly say. “I can’t believe you like this.”

“What? You don’t?” There’s an overwhelming feeling of worry in his chest that he can’t quite discern, the feeling that you may not like him past being friends. But why did he care about that? He shouldn’t, he didn’t like you past being friends? Right? So why had he still not fucked another girl in months? Why was he finding it so hard to get it up without you? He pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind and does what he does best, makes it into a game. Now he was on a mission to get you to fall in love with cuddling, he had his arms around you every chance he could get. Especially after sex until it became a routine with the two of you and you couldn’t fall asleep in his arms otherwise. It was nothing more than mission accomplished he told himself.

At that point the dynamic of your friendship started to change, he couldn’t help the urge to want to see you more often which meant that he invited you out with his friends as much as he could. And he couldn’t regret something more because now Jean had you wrapped around his stupid finger, laughing at all his jokes while you brushed your hands on his chest. God, it made Eren sick.

What was worse it when Jean started sneaking into your sex life, that was his final straw.

Ren: Wanna come over? I’ve got your favourite cookies

You: Extremely tempting offer but im out right now, save them for me?

Ren: Where?

You: Jean’s place

Ren: You never told me you were going there lmao

You: ?

You: Was I supposed to? You don’t tell me when your with other girls

Except he was never with other girls these days. So the next time he saw you he asked straight up if you and Jean had sex. You gave him a strange glance but nodded reluctantly, not knowing if that was actually any of his business or not.

“Oh.” He responds, playing with his fingers, an excuse to do anything but focus his gaze on your pretty eyes.

“Is that.. a problem?” You raise an eyebrow.

“No.” He says so quickly that you’re almost shocked, like he’s so sure of his answer that he doesn’t even question it. “We’re not exclusive so do whatever you want.” He scoffs, it’s more of a reminder to him than it is to you but you can’t help but wince at his harsh tone. It’s just like Eren to cause an argument because he doesn’t have it in him to convey his real feelings. So the next thing you know he’s rambling about STDs, how you having multiple sexual partners isn’t safe for him and how the two of you should break off your agreement. None of it made any sense considering Jean was the only guy you’d fucked in months other than Eren and you knew nothing about what Eren got up to sexually either. Anyway, it was safe to say you stormed out of his place that day in tears and fuck did he feel so bad that he wanted to cry himself. Especially when he finds out that the first place you went after that was to Jean’s house. God he was so mad at himself.

After some time when he finally builds the courage, and albeit after a drink or two he turns up at your door step, it’s a heinous time to be banging down your door, he knows. Of course, your roommate isn’t happy about it either but when he’s telling you how sorry he is and how much he misses sex with you it only takes a few more sweet, yet filthy words to get you writhing under him once more in your bed.

“So sorry baby.” He reminds you as his hands pull your lace panties down a little, he really did miss this so much, missed you too, such a pretty sight. “Want me to show you how sorry I am?” He asks teasingly, running his fingertips up and down your sensitive thighs.

You nod slowly, your breath hitching as he sports you his signature grin. You haven’t seen that in a while and you know exactly what it means. He wastes no time sticking his finger inside of you, he’s memorised your body by now, the way you like to be touched, your little reactions to what he does, the exact angle that his finger needs to hit to get you to cum in under a minute. “Shit.” You fist his top, pulling him down into a messy kiss.

“You like that?” He asks against your lips, his fingers continue to work magic on you. “Did you miss me?” He asks, pulling away slightly while he begins to work into you much quicker than before, it’s enough to have you moaning under his touch. “Tell me how much you missed me.”

“Missed you so much.” You breathe out, he rewards you by pressing his thumb to your clit, rubbing it in circles while his fingers pump in and out of you. You’re falling a part so quickly and you’re easily reminded that no one can make you feel as good as Eren can.

“Yeah?” He breathes, “You gonna show me? Gonna show me how much you missed me?”

You nod and he makes a negative sound, completely unsatisfied with your answer. “Gotta say it gorgeous.” He whispers against your earlobe, “You know how I am, wanna hear you speak.”

“I’ll show you.” You manage to say between moans, your name is on the tip of his tongue and the familiar feeling is in your stomach once more but he doesn’t let you cum, slowing down once he recognises the way your cunt feels when you’re about to spill over the edge.

“Not yet.” He laughs, “Tell me, how are you going to show me?”

“Gonna let you fuck me, I’ll let you fuck me as hard as you want.” You whine, grabbing onto his toned arms in protest, hoping that it will be enough to get him to let you cum.

“You promise?”

“I promise ‘Ren.” You nod, he pulls his fingers out of you and stuffs them in your mouth before putting them in his own. It’s filthy really, no one would ever believe the two of you were anything more than fuck buddies but you loved it, you loved that out of all people Eren could be your dirty little secret.

The next second he has his hands pressing your knees against your chest, you practically yelp in surprise when he pushes his cock inside of you without warning. “Then take this fucking dick like a good girl, can you do that for me?” He doesn’t give you any time to adjust to his pace, he’s pounding into your mercilessly enough so that lewd sounds are filling the air that can’t even be disguised with either of your moans. “Don’t need to prep you properly right? Considering you’ve been fucking other guys.”

You tighten around him at his words, he’s being so mean and you hate when Eren’s mean to you, except in the bedroom, God is it a turn-on. “Oh you like that? Fucking slut.” It was becoming more and more obvious that Eren was in fact mad about you and Jean, this entire thing was a jealousy fuck put simply and my was he putting on his best performance.

The kiss he pulls you into the next second is such a contrast to his dominating demeanour, it’s so gentle and sweet, the type that you give to someone you love and for some reason you can’t help but reciprocate it. He leaves light kisses on your neck, knowing that you would never let him mark you, trust him, he’s tried. The second his lips pull away from your body he’s back to being mean again, picking up the pace even more than before. “Eren— fuck.” You can’t even get out your words.

“Feels good?” He asks, usually he doesn’t like it when you only give him a nod but he knows that right now he’s fucking you absolutely stupid and there’s nothing else you can do. “Who else can make you feel this good huh?” He slows down his strokes, wanting a genuine answer from you as he wraps his hand around your throat. “Tell me, who else?”

“No one.” You whine as tears prick your eyes, he has no mercy for you, not a care in the world as the headboard of your bed slams against your wall. You’d have to apologise to your roommate later. “That’s right, no one.” His thumb brushes your cheek lighty. “So whose pussy is this?”

“Yours!”

“Correct, mine.” He grins smugly, he knows it doesn’t really count considering he can get you to say anything as long as he’s balls deep inside but still, for some reason the sentiment means a lot to him. "You're being so good for me, you wanna cum?"

"Y-Yes please." His expression darkens for a second and he's worried that the time away between the two of you has meant that you'd forgotten the rules of the bedroom.

"Yes please, what?"

"Yes please daddy." You correct yourself instantly and he grins with satisfaction, being nice enough to press his thumb against your clit one more. Rubbing it in soft circles while he bucks into you faster until you're clamping down against him.

“Fuck missed this pussy so much, missed you so much." He says in pure ectcasy as he throws his head back. And for someone who was banging on about safe sex the last time you saw him it's surprising that he had zero reserves about fucking you raw and then cumming inside.

He releases spurts of cum into you and it's almost shocking how much he fills you up, when you were first fondling with his balls tonight you told him how heavy they felt while grinding on his thigh. You'd figured he hadn't fucked anyone in a while, now you could confirm that with the way white thickness was trailing out of you. For the first time, Eren does all the things he never used to before and you can't help but think it's so gentleman-like. The way he rushes to clean you up, not leaving you to do it yourself, the bath he runs for the two of you, the way he changes your bedsheets and for once how he isn't running off home the second he's nutted. Instead he has you in his arms and even more shockingly stays the night.

One thing he hadn't anticipated with all your time away was how much your relationship with Jean had progressed. It was only when he woke up the next morning, seeing you in your pretty little dress and face full of makeup that he wanted to ruin so badly that he realised. "Oh finally, you're awake." You spin your legs in his direction from the chair you sat on opposite your vanity table.

"Nice treat to wake up to." His eyes trail your body shamelessly, and his hoarse morning voice only has your blood rushing south. Eren looks gorgeous in the mornings too, he always does.

But there was something about his hair down against the pillow, the light pink littering his cheeks when he's realised that he's engaged in something intimate last night, his pretty eyelashes when he gazes at you. And don't get started on the way half of his abs are visible through the bedsheets considering he's so adamant on sleeping shirtless.

"You going somewhere?" He asks, propping himself up a little with his elbows. "I thought that maybe we could grab breakfast or something." He continues with a little frown on your face. Eren has never proposed grabbing breakfast before, like ever.

"Sorry." You say, grabbing your bag, double checking that you had everything you needed.

Your perfume fills his nose and he has to bite back a smile, he's so glad to be back. "I've got a date but feel free to help yourself to breakfast here."

"A date?" He practically erases the last part of ot your sentence from his mind, "With who?" He raises an eyebrow, fully sitting up now.

"Jean." You give him a look that reminds him to watch his words considering how he spoke to you the last time he came up.

"Oh.." It felt like that was the only thing Eren knew how to say when it came to you with another man, he was speechless. The time away made him realise he liked you, of course he fucking liked you. What he hadn't yet realised is that he loved you, all those months together meant that you were the girl that had captured his heart and now knowing after last night you'd be off with Jean?

Oh he felt sick. "So you guys are getting pretty serious then?"

"I mean I guess." You shrug, "But we're not exclusive yet."

"So what does that mean for us?" He asks, you've never seen such hurt in Eren's eyes the way you were seeing it right now. The words were almost taken from your mouth but you were doing what was best for you. When you'd first started your arrangement with Eren you were warned by your you were warned by your friends about him. You didn't listen, the sex was too great for you to bother. Over time you realised you'd started developing feels for him and if there was one thing about Eren Jaeger it was that he was allergic to the word intimacy. You'd never have what you truly wanted out of him. So when Jean came around with all the affection in the world your friends convinced you that was what you deserved so naturally, you made an effort.

"Us?" You raise an eyebrow, "Well I guess we'd have to stop what we're doing. obviously." You point between the two of you, hopeful that he wasn't about to suggest cheating if you and Jean did get together.

"Right." He responds plainly, it's extremely blunt, why wouldn't it be? He's got nothing else to say. "We can still be friends though."

Oh that one really hurt. "Yeah.. friends."

"Look I'm already really late, l've got to go but l'll see you later okay?" You don't give him anytime to respond before rushing out of the door, the air was so suffocating in there and you could feel the awkward unspoken tension that you didn't have it in you to face. It takes a lot considering his heart has just been broken but eventually Eren gathers the strength to stand up, waltzing into your kitchen for said breakfast to see you roommate Sasha giving him a scowl. He wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t like him or if it was because the two of you were too loud last night. Either way he wasn’t interested in that, he was much more fixated on the freshly bloomed vase of flowers that were now on your kitchen island that he’d never seen before. He figured they were Sasha’s, he knew she had a boyfriend because you’d told him.

“Nice, did Niccolo get these for you?” He raises an eyebrow, hoping that it would be enough to dissipate the awkward silence between the two of you.

“Actually…” She turns around with a smug expression, “Jean got them for y/n.” She shrugs, going back to whatever cereal she was pouring. Fuck, he was beginning to doubt himself. Jean seemed like the perfect guy for you, he’s been taking you out on dates, getting you flowers and now he knew the two of you were sleeping together, it was only a matter of time.

The next time he texts you is a few days later, he makes the highest effort possible to not bring any form of sexual speak into the conversation. He was determined to show you how much he cared about solely you and your day. Imagine his surprise when you told him that you and Jean had a date planned tomorrow.

You: Honestly I think he’s finally going to ask me to be his girlfriend

Ren: About time

You: Tell me about it

Ren: If that was me I wouldn’t have ever waited that long

You: Stop being a flirt

Ren: Come on, you know me

You: Yeah I do

You: Kinda gonna miss you ig

Ren: Kinda?

You: Yeah just a little

Ren: I’ll miss you less

You: Just a couple days ago you were in bed whining about how you missed me so much though?

Ren: Low blow

You: Come on, you know me

Ren: Not funny when you do it

You: Shut up you love it

Ren: Yeah unfortunately I do

You: Hey wanna come over? One last time for old times sake

Ren: Fucking you before you become someones girlfriend? How romantic

You: Is that a yes?

Ren: You know it is

And now that he was back in your bedroom, legs spread out while you bounced on his cock because he was adamant on the fact that he did all the work 90% of the time during your FWB relationship, he realised how much he simply cannot let you go. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact your pussy had his head going foggy but once he felt you gripping around his cock, he could only tilt his head back while using his hands to lift your body weight up and down his shaft. The moment he was cumming he slipped into confessions that he probably shouldn’t have, “Fuck baby I don’t want you to leave me, I love you, I love you so fucking much you don’t even know.” He moans against your ear while filling you up.

You can hardly process his words until you’ve come down from your high and you’ve got your arms around his neck while he rubs your back soothingly. You’re so out of breath from riding but he presses a kiss to your temple and it’s enough to calm you down, “You did such a good job, you always do.”

Seconds later your eyes widen, remembering what he just said. You pull away from him, a shocked expression on his face as your eyes search his for any indication that he’s realised what he’s said. “You what?”

He pouts, “Don’t make me repeat it please, it took everything in me to admit it already.”

“Adm— You mean that? Like actually?”

“Of course I do.” He sighs, running one hand up and down your waist slowly while the other cups your face. “I know I’ve been a dick for a long time and I never really had the courage to say anything but I like you more than you know. Fuck that, I love you, everything about you. The way you laugh when I tell you the stupidest joke, your pretty face and these eyes when you’re about to scold me for something, every inch of your body that you’ve let me explore, all these little beauty marks that you have, especially this one here.” He places his hand on the small of your back.

“I have a beauty mark there?” You try to turn around but of course, you can’t see it.

“Yeah you do.” He laughs, “And it’s perfect, just like you.” For a moment he pauses with a sigh, “I know Jean is going to ask you to be his girlfriend tomorrow but—“ He gulps, “But I don’t want you to be his girlfriend! You said you were mine and I don’t want things between us to end, I don’t want you to leave me!” He begins whining.

You fall into his chest and for a moment he thinks he’s said the wrong thing before you start— laughing? “What?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I would’ve never expected you to say something so.. pathetic.” You shake your head with a laugh, “That’s so like you.” You whisper.

“I’m pouring out my heart here.” He deadpans.

“Sorry.” You shake your head, “Please continue, I love hearing it.” You say, placing a light kiss on his lips.

“If you feel anything for me..” He begins again nervously, “Anything at all then don’t be with Jean, I’ll treat you so much better and we can do all the things you want like go on dates and I’ll get you flowers—“

“What are you suggesting?” You finally ask.

“I have a proposition.” He smiles, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Another one?” You laugh.

“Yeah, how about we make this a thing?” He points between the two of you before resting his hands on your waist once again.

“A thing?”

"Yeah, me and you, boyfriend and girlfriend, a thing."

Thank you for reading, if you enjoyed likes and reblogs are appreciated & requests for Eren Jaeger are open for more <3

#eren x reader #anime #eren jeager x reader #eren x fem!reader #attack on titan eren #eren jeager smut #eren smut #eren x you #erenjaeger #shingeki no kyoujin eren #eren aot #eren x y/n #eren headcanons #eren #eren yeager #jean krischtein #jean kirschtein headcanons #jean kirschtein fluff #attack on titan

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