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ghost-proofbaby · 2 days

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mind blown (eddie munson x fem!reader)

summary: when you get a certain achievement while playing baldur's gate 3, it catches your boyfriend's eye.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: slight spoilers for baldur's gate 3 game, TALK OF MONSTER FUCKING/TENTACLES, you literally have the option to fuck a monster in the game and that is the premise for this one-shot. it isn't described in great detail, but is a background bit. and eddie makes fun of you for it. a lot. oral (f receiving, insinuated m receiving at the end). use of nickname "good girl". minors dni.

wc: 3.5k+

a/n: for anyone who was forced to witness me rizz the emperor on my last bg3 stream - consider this my... apology? half the time i was writing this i couldn't take it seriously so please laugh with me.

also, shout out to @hellfire--cult for the best possible divider EVER.

ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: MIND BLOWN!

You don’t even notice when the notification pops up in the lower left corner of your screen. It’s the smallest of blips, hardly signified by the quiet ding from your Steam account in a pitiful attempt to congratulate you for the monstrous crimes you were currently committing on your screen.

But hey, you’ve got to experience the entire game, right?

“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you click on the second dialogue option, eyes locked on your screen is disbelief in your own actions, “What the fuck.”

2. Take its tentacle in your hand, invite it in.

You watch in absolute awe as, who would have guessed, your Tav takes the tentacle in their hand, inviting the Mind Flayer in.

Oh, you’re not seeing Heaven for this. You’re getting kicked straight to Hell, receipts pulled up of this very moment in your lifetime. That time you only cackled when your younger sibling broke their wrist? Fine. That time you let a door slam shut on some random grandma? Forgivable.

But making your video game character fuck the tentacled-should-be-enemy? No, yeah, you’re heading straight to the flames.

“Oh. My. God.”

You really, really, really should have noticed the achievement notification. Should have considered the fact that this was an achievement at all. Should have considered that your achievement would be public. Should have noticed who was currently online, and who would be getting the notification of your sins.

Should of thought of your boyfriend, in the living room, playing the very same game on your shared gaming laptop that had been reduced to solely allowing the two of you to play Baldur’s Gate 3 at the same time.

But you’re too entranced by tentacles and embarrassment and shit, is this kind of hot? Is The Emperor kind of hot? to think of any of this until it’s too late.

One moment, you’re leaning far more forward than you had realized, drawn into the screen as your mouth hangs wide open in that continued naivety of disbelief that the game actually allowed this, and the next, two hands are landing on the back of your chair and shaking you out of the trance.

“Shit!” you can’t help but scream, scrambling wildly to yank off your headset with flailing hands. A few of your knuckles connect with something hard, and you spin quickly to find Eddie standing there with a hand clutched over his nose, “Oh my God, baby, I’m so sor-”

“Are you fucking the mindflayer?” he all but yells, not looking to be in an ounce of pain even as he continues to shield his face where your hand had blatantly smacked him. His eyes catch the screen in the same trance you had just been under before yelling out, “Holy shit, you’re fucking the mindflayer!”

“It’s not what it looks like-”

“You are literally fucking the space squid right now.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“You’re fucking a glorified piece of sushi right now. You are literally-”

For the second time in the span of what hasn’t even been a full minute, your hand slaps Eddie’s face. This time, it’s more purposeful, slamming your palm right over his mouth before he can continue what you can’t even be sure is teasing.

And you’re missing the entire scene. Thank God for learning to quicksave as a reflex, you suppose.

“Eddie, I swear to God, do not speak another word when I drop my hand,” you threaten, no real violence behind your words as he glowers at you. You can see all that mischief swirling behind the look he gives you, every possible bad idea to ever exist in this Universe manifesting in those big brown eyes as they stare widely into yours. “Do you understand?”

He nods. Your mistake for trusting him, you suppose.

The moment your hand has dropped from him, it reveals that giddy smile, dimples screaming for your instant regret before he even opens his mouth to say, “Play it again.”

“Excuse me?”

“Go ahead,” he waves towards the screen where the scene is beginning to wrap up, your current companions interrupting the moment in horror. If you had still been entranced, you would have been an absolute mess. But all your focus had been stolen away to the boy towering over you, “Reload the save. Replay the scene for me.”

Your brows furrow as you cross your arms, shaking your head, “No.”

“No?”

“No,” you repeat yourself more firmly, leaning into your stubbornness, “I am not replaying the scene for you after you just made fun of me for partaking in it.”

Eddie wastes no time pouting as he throws himself down onto the bed nearby, looking at you with unimaginably forced disappointment, “Come on. You’re no fun.”

You hate how cute he looks right now. Bottom lip jutted out for dramatic effect, legs splayed out to straddle the corner of the bed. He leans back on his arms, torso elongating as you watch him take every steady and expectant breath. He looks determined.

Unlucky for him, you’re just as stoic in your decision.

“C’mon,” he whines softly, changing his approach when he realizes the cocky exterior isn’t chipping away at that set look on your face, no faltering in your decision to ignore his request, “Please? We both know that I’m not going to be fucking the squid, so this is my only chance to see the-”

“He’s not a squid,” you groan, starting to turn your chair to face the screen again and continue your gameplay, “Might I remind you just how hot my guardian was prior to the whole tentacle reveal? You can’t even blame me for succumbing to this, you know.”

His lips press together tightly, biting back a grin.

“Your guardian was very hot. But, pray tell, baby, why did you choose to fuck the tentacled version?” You’re not having this conversation. You blatantly refuse to, picking your headphones back up and beginning to slip them over your ears when Eddie’s hand shoots out to stop you, “Wait. I have an idea.”

“I’m not reloading the save so you can see the scene, Eddie-”

“What if…. I technically don’t watch the scene?”

You halt all movement willingly, headphones still hovering in midair even as Eddie takes his hand away. “What do you mean?”

He leans forward, elbows digging into his thighs, sly smile shimmering on his lips as he finally abandons the god-forsaken pout. He’s radiating pride as he simply asks, “Wanna have your mind blown in real life?”

Your entire body flushes with heat, starting to actually get embarrassed that Eddie wasn’t letting this go.

“With God as my witness, if you do not stop making fun of me for this, I will kick you out of this room and lock the door.”

“I’m not making fun of you,” he says slowly, inching off of the bed, dropping to his knees on the carpet of your shared bedroom, “Not in the slightest, sweetheart. I’m making you an offer.”

You eye him cautiously as he slowly makes his way closer to you. When he’s nearly tucked under your desk, you’re quick to bring your knees up, still terribly weary and unsure of where he’s going with this.

“What do you mean then, having my mind blown in real life?”

Eddie’s smile has gone downright salacious as he easily fits himself under the desk that holds your computer, situating himself perfectly so that if you were to drop your legs back down, he’d be kneeling prettily between your knees.

“Reload the scene. And drop your legs, yeah?”

He says it so casually, nonchalance dripping from his tone as if he’s just asked you to pass him salt or inquired about the weather rather than the actual request he was insinuating. It has your knees pressing more tightly together, your chin dropping on top of them as you stare down at him in the cramped space.

“Are you… are you seriously suggesting what I think you’re suggesting right now?” you question, each word falling from your mouth slowly.

It had been a while since either of you had really gotten your hands on one another. Not on purpose, of course. The two of you had simply fallen victim to the immersive game, spending most of your free time either playing your individual campaigns or joining one another on a multiplayer one. Afternoons melted away from gameplay, and the two of you were usually already to the point of exhaustion once you’d end up in bed together. There had been a certain lack of affectionate touches, suggestive squeezes of your thighs and faux-innocent kisses of the neck. And neither had noticed, minds equally preoccupied on thoughts of pixelated characters and harrowing journeys over a screen.

You can’t remember the last time either of you outright suggested sex.

“Deathly serious,” you can see the shine of his teeth as he flashes them in the dark space. You continue to hesitate until he quickly adds on, “Only if you want to, of course. If not, I can always fuck off and leave you to Squidwar-”

“I want to,” you interrupt, ignoring the new nickname for the Mind Flayer that he had started to taunt you with. You carefully let your feet slip off your chair, avoiding knocking him in the face with your ankles. He aids you, a careful hand running from the back of your knee and down your calf as he guides your legs to rest on his shoulders. The fact that you had started gaming without pants was suddenly very helpful.

“Good girl,” it’s sort of ridiculous, the way his words cut right to your core, nearly making you let out a small gasp. Your body is suddenly very aware of just how long the accidental bout of celibacy had been, “A few rules before we begin. You’re going to reload the scene, and really watch it this time. Headphones and all, got it?”

He places a chaste kiss to your inner thigh, and this time, you can’t bite back your little gasp. It only elicits a chuckle from him as you eagerly nod. You could care less about the game at this point, but you can’t seem to find the words to tell him this.

“If you stop focusing on the scene, I stop eating this pretty little pussy.”

If you weren’t so light-headed from the way his breath hits your clothed core currently, you’d probably see just how ridiculous this entire scenario was. It was downright laughable. Even a little shameful, honestly. By no means was it the weirdest situation that you and Eddie had turned into a game of sex, but it was certainly up there.

God, you were in love with a fucking weirdo. And it made you just as weird, if not weirder, as he was.

He gently slaps at your knee, forcing your attention to focus back on him, “Got it?”

“Got it,” you manage to choke out just as his hands begin to trail up to your hips, playing with the lace of your panties teasingly.

You lift yourself ever so slightly off the chair as he slips your underwear off, bringing the fabric down agonizingly slow. He has to shuffle plenty, guiding your limbs around just to finally remove the garment, but you hardly pay attention to all that awkwardness. Your Tav is still on the screen, awaiting instruction just as you were.

When Eddie finally has your panties off, knees back to hanging on his shoulders, you can hear him let out a soft groan at the sight of you.

“Fuck,” he sighs gently, leaning his cheek against your knee ever so slightly, “The tentacles really do it for you, huh? Already fucking soaking-”

“Shut up about the tentacles,” you groan out, throwing your hand back in exasperation, “For the love of God, please shut up about the-”

“Ah, ah,” he tsks, pulling farther away from you, “Might I remind you the whole point of this is all those tentacles on your screen right now, baby? Maybe I should have you hook up your speakers instead of your headphones just to make sure I can hear the entire scene.”

You’d honestly forgotten about the scene at this point. It was the least intriguing part of your evening now.

When you stay quiet, biting your lip to avoid making anymore smart ass remarks that would only prolong what you desperately wanted, desperately needed, he finally takes it as his cue.

That damn grin, dimples and all, look up at you with all the ill intent in the world as he gestures for you to slip on your headphones. You do it immediately, and just before you’ve fully engulfed your ears with them, Eddie says, “Now, please do the honors, and hit F8 for me, doll.”

Immediately, the only noise you can hear is the ambience from the game. One swift punch of your F8 key pauses it entirely, sudden music replacing it as the reload screen appears on the computer. Eddie waits, staring up at you for a few moments, probably having memorized just how long these damn reloads take from how much the two of you save scum in the game (Ironic, given during your first playthroughs, he’d scolded you endlessly for save scumming rather than just trusting the dice and letting it all play out.)

After a few beats of stillness, you can see the scene prepared and ready for you to begin to click the options again to initiate the scene in your peripheral. Your eyes are still locked on Eddie’s, though.

He makes no move to move any closer to you, though, still smirking before he finally mouths ‘watch the game’.

It’s only once you do as you’ve been told that he has his mouth on you.

He starts slowly as you distract yourself with the screen, peppering kisses along your knees and inner thighs, working his way towards your pussy. Teasing you, taunting you, dangling what he knows you want so badly that it aches and has you spasming around absolutely nothing. It takes more effort than you could care to admit to focus your vision on the dialogue options, and even more to remember which one is going to initiate the goddamned scene.

When your shaking hand reaches for the mouse and finally clicks the correct option (thank God), his mouth finally hovers over your slick folds.

Whatever the Emperor says falls on ringing ears. Subtitles are useless, the words blurring together on the screen when his tongue takes its first stride across your core.

Your knuckles are paling from how tightly you grip your poor mouse, and you almost consider what you would do if this situation leads to you breaking such a vital piece of the shared gaming setup, but Eddie’s mouth is quick to distract you. You feel the vibrations of the hums falling from his lips just as they trail to wrap around your clit, forming suction as he gives one harsh suck that has your mouth falling open in a silent gasp. Your eyes can barely manage to stay open as you blindly click for the next dialogue option being presented.

Kiss the tentacle and hope that it’s an erogenous appendage.

Not quite the same path you’d taken before, but it’ll get the job done. Especially when Eddie’s fingers are digging into the flesh of your thighs even harsher, pressing himself even harder against you as his tongue dances over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Kitten licks, but every single one sends a bolt of electricity up your spine.

The sound that comes from the Emperor in the game doesn’t matter to you, completely overridden by the audible groan you can just barely catch from Eddie as your headphones begin to slip off.

Was that… a good sound?

You hadn’t noticed you’d breathily recited the words you read across the scene until movement below the desk catches your eye, and Eddie is nodding into your cunt more eagerly than the character on the screen could ever be capable of.

It’s the type of eagerness that has you whimpering, the kind of enthusiasm that guides one of your hands away from the keyboard and down to tangle into the roots of Eddie’s curls.

He’s going to be the death of you.

His grip tightens until he’s tugging your hips hard enough to bring you further slumped down in your seat, letting your thighs cradle either side of his head. His nose bumping your sensitive clit as his tongue circles teasing against your entrance. Once, twice – and then it dives in, pushing you to arch your back, a soft cry leaving you as you yank at his hair.

With a heaving chest, you find yourself reciting another line of words from the screen despite making no move to click any options, “Do it again. Please, God- do it again.”

He lifts to look at you at that, smiling wide with glistening lips and chin alike, “God? Oh, you’re making me blush, babe.”

“Eddie-” you start, but a smack on your thigh from one of his ringed hands effectively shuts you up.

“Play the game, and I’ll do it again.”

Your hand smacks against the mouse, and you must click the right option, the exact command you’d just demanded of Eddie, because the scene continues on.

You’re not watching the screen. Not consistently. Your eyes can’t stop flickering down to your boy, to his dark eyes shining up at you as he keeps his face buried between your thighs, the only thing giving away his current grin being the slightest crinkle beside those eyes.

The entire sequence from before is simply playing out, just as before, but your mind stays on the feeling of Eddie’s tongue on you. When he releases one of your thighs and brings his fingers into the mix, stretching you out far more fully than his tongue had, you’re preening beneath his touch. Gasps, moans, whimpers, sobs – they all fall from your lip as he knows just how to work you. All the right touches to bring your neglected body to the precipice, practically worshiping you on his knees as the brightness of the screen exposes your face to him. Eyes tightly screwed shut, mouth wide open, lips swollen from poor attempts to keep your noises down through biting them.

It only encourages him further. Only has him forgetting entirely about the game as well, the only goal on his mind being making you cum on his tongue.

And you do.

In hot waves, broken calls of his name, both hands tugging mercilessly on his hair. Your thighs are squeezing his cheeks tightly as you clench down on his fingers.

Somewhere between all the whispers of his name, numerous squeaks of please falling from your mouth, he slows down. He gives you a chance to bask in the after-warmth of it all, your entire body buzzing as you catch your breath. You truly, genuinely hadn’t expected to cum that quickly. But it had been a while, and if anyone knew your body well enough to get you off in record speed, it was the man currently still seated on sore knees with a winning grin on his face.

“Your headphones aren’t even on anymore, you cheater,” he teases, sounding just as out of breath as you felt.

You detangle your fingers from his hair, retracting your hands just far enough for one of them to flip him off, “Shut up.”

Your eyes are still closed, head leaning back almost painfully as the headphones cut into your neck. If you could live in this moment forever, you probably would.

He presses forward, placing a quick peck to your sensitive core that makes your legs try to squeeze together instinctually, “Make me.”

At those two words, you finally open your eyes, slowly lolling your head towards him, eyes narrowing at the challenge.

“Get off the floor and onto the bed, and I will.”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

The entire process somehow manages to remind you just how ridiculous the situation was. Watching Eddie clamber clumsily out from beneath your desk, cheekily flashing you the set of panties he’d taken off of you that he shoves into his pocket. Eyes glued on him as he flops himself down onto your shared bed, still looking far too proud of himself.

Your heart swells as you look at the absolute idiot, knowing he was yours.

“Well?” he asks expectantly, raising his eyebrows as he shimmies his shoulders jokingly, “You gonna make me or not, sweetheart?”

You’re quick to start to jump out of your chair, just eager to be close to him again, deciding the game could wait until tomorrow. Just as you do, however, Eddie puts up a hand, biting back an even wider smile.

“I’m only reminding you because I won’t hear the end of it otherwise,” he drawls, slowly pointing a finger back towards the desk, “Don’t forget to press F5.”

You roll your eyes, but you do as he says.

It works. It’ll save you time next time you reload the game – allowing you to skip the entire encounter, considering the way you’ve discovered there are far more fun ways to have your mind blown.

Now, however, it was Eddie’s turn.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin

@ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87

@thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck

@cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking

@witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore

@mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog

@vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp

@princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

join my taglist!

(please let me know if the tagging worked!!)

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson one shot #ghost's stories

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koolades-world · 3 days

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Can you please do a fanfic of an MC who has had a lot going on for an entire month, constantly having work, needing to deal with the brother’s problems and helping fix them, and never getting a moment of silence. All of this builds up into them needing a nap but they can’t because they have a lot of stuff to do. In the end it ends with them crying their eyes out because they’re just so tired and overwhelmed and overstimulated from everything so the brothers help MC finally get some sleep and peace and quiet

Please and thank you!

hi! yeah sure thing :)

enjoy <3

Well Earned Rest

It’d been a really long month. It felt like it had dragged on for much longer than that, but it was just at the beginning of the month that your life had gotten so hectic. Living with seven demons brothers wasn't easy and while they usually weren't such of a problem for you, this month was busier than usual.

To start, you had begun to pick up more work from Student Council because they needed help. Usually, Lucifer did most of it he was very thankful when you officially offered to take some of it. It wasn't easy, that was for sure, so you ended up spending most of your evenings doing the paperwork instead of having fun. Sometimes, you'd do the paperwork in Lucifer's study with him, which made it not as bad. This was on top of homework, of course. You didn't know how Lucifer did it. You had actually also begun to pick up chores around the house when you noticed the brothers hadn't done theirs, which was more often that not. It was tiring, but you knew by doing that, you saved both the brother who forgot to do that chore and Lucifer by helping them avoid that confrontation. It saved both of them the pain, energy, and trouble. It wasn't fun, but it was a minor distraction from paperwork and helped you avoid more screaming.

Thankfully, you hadn't gotten too many major projects from R.A.D. but there was that one professor you could always expect to assign his monthly, dreaded group project. Randomly, by some act of Diavolo, you got partnered with Satan. He was a blessing. You felt bad for not being as great as you usually are with project work, but you pulled your weight, and Satan understood.

And, of course, the brothers had their fair share of arguments. Nothing out of the ordinary. It was the usual Mammon and Levi arguing over money, Satan and Lucifer getting at each other's throats, Beel eating something that belonged to Asmo. During a normal month, this wouldn't be too bad. Of course, you didn't enjoy sorting out these issues, but it was well within your abilities. And while you loved the brothers, you couldn't deny that they drove you insane when they came to you with their problems. It was one of these arguments that sent you over the edge.

It was just another night. You'd just finished cooking and eating dinner with the others. You kept it simple so you could get back to that paperwork as soon as possible. After all, the sooner you finished it, the sooner you could get to bed. You were about to take your plate to the kitchen to rinse it off, since you'd finished first, when you heard the beginnings of an argument between Beel and Asmo. Usually, these arguments were a case of Beel eating something that wasn't supposed to be eaten and belonged to Asmo. Of course, he did this to others too, it's just that it happened to Asmo the most, because in the words of Beel, "His things just look more tasty."

"Beel! No! That's not food!" You turned around to see Asmo on his feet, standing next to Beel. He didn't respond because he was chewing something, presumably whatever belonged to Asmo. He kept screaming, as if it would bring back his lost item. At some point, Mammon chimed in, telling Asmo to shut up, and Satan after that, telling both of them to shut up.

The din grew to be too much for you. You wheeled around and slammed the plate in your hands back down onto the table. This caught everyone's attention. They went silent and turned to you. Even Levi looked up from his D.D.D. "I'm sick and tired of all this arguing." The air in the room stilled and nobody knew how to respond. You were never usually like that. "All you guys do is argue. While that's normal, I'm so tired of being the mediator. What the hell did you do before I got here? You need to start sorting out your own damn problems. I can't be your solution to everything all the time. I have a life too. Maybe you've all forgotten, but I have to have time to myself and the things that I love. Not that I don't love you, but you guys can be too much sometimes. In case you haven't noticed, I've been picking up your slack around this household, and not a single one of you noticed." At that point, tears had started welling up in your eyes, but you continued. "I'm the only one here that can say this, but I'm only human. I won't be alive forever, and I can't continue like this. Get yourselves together, then we can talk." Tears were flowing down your face at this point. What you said seemed to strike a nerve in most of them. You turned back to the door and ran away, wiping your face with the back of your hand even as Mammon called after you, sounding upset too. You ignored him.

You went to your room and locked the door behind you. After flopping down onto your bed, you curled into the fetal position facing away from the door, and just cried. You couldn't had been there long when you heard someone jiggle the doorknob, then knock.

"Mc?" It was Lucifer. "Can I come in?" You could tell he was standing just outside the door.

"What do you want?" You spoke as loud as you could muster.

"We want to apologize." He simply said.

"I need some time alone. Come back later." After that, you heard them walk away. You were surprised they actually listened. Maybe what you'd said had really gotten to them. Whatever it was, it was refreshing. About an hour later, you were feeling a little better but were still distraught. You felt like it was about time you got back to work, when you heard another knock on the door. With a sigh, you moved to open the door to yell at who ever was on the other side. However, a pillow was thrust in your face, catching you very off guard.

"We're sorry Mc. We're here to make it up to you." Belphie grabbed you by the shoulders and walked you backwards into your room, making space for his other six brothers who poured in, all holding different items.

"You need rest. I would know that better than anyone else." Lucifer threw a weighted blanket over you after Belphie tucked the pillow under your head. Asmo set down a candle, and Beel lit it. Satan had a book in hand and pulled a chair up next to your bed, presumable ready to read to you. Levi set a cute plushie on the pillow next to you. Last, Mammon pushed his way to the front, holding a sleeping mask, some cucumber slices, and some cooling under eye patches.

"I didn't know which you'd prefer, so I just brought it all." The way he sheepishly smiled and presented it to you made you grin. The other brothers peered down at you, waiting your response. With a shake of your head, you pushed the blanket off yourself to get up. At first, they tried to stop you, but once they realized you had something to say, they paused.

"Now that I've had time to collect myself, I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for actually listening to me. I'm sorry-" You began but were cut off.

"Now, stop right there, sweetie. We came here to apologize to you and help you get your well needed rest. You made so many good points. Please, let us treat you." Asmo pulled you into a hug. One by one, the other brothers joined in. For the second time that day, you began to cry, but this time they were tears of joy. Lucifer wiped them for you, and you only saw pure affection for you in his eyes.

"Now, get back in bed. It's time for me to read you some of this book." Satan gestured to the book he was still holding. With the ghost of a smile on your face, you did as he asked and in no time, you were fast asleep. Mission complete for the brothers.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me beel #obey me levi #obey me mammon #obey me asmo #obey me belphie #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #obey me! shall we date!#obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub

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mechaknight-98 · 1 day

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Resonance FT Natty

Authors notes: A fic I've had for a while but was still expanding

"Yeah, boss. You want me to work with a new partner...but I'm retired. You will pay how much...Hm...no... Okay, now you're exaggerating. You're not...Fine, I will come through."

Going ack to DWMA was an experience Riku swore that after achieving Death Scythe Meister status he wouldn't do, but here he was at the beck and call of Death the Kid. Walking up the many stairs to the main hall was a chore he didn't miss. As he maneuvered you avoided the new crop of students moving around the area until he reached Death the Kid's office.

Death the kid smiles at Riku, "Thank you for coming on such short notice," Kid says to Riku, and he shrugs.

"What was this about something I have never seen before," Riku responds intrigued.

"Remember Tsubaki, and Black Star" Death the kid started. Riku nods and Kid continues, "Well there was a weapon we found in Thailand her Name is Anatchaya Suputhipong and she has ties to both the Star clan and the Nakatsukasa clans. You are currently the only meister I think that can deal with it," Kid explains

"Her name is what… wait no that's not my question. why call me of all people? Why me," Riku asks confused.

"I think you will see when you get there," Kid says as he opens a portal for Riku as he walks through Death the kid adds this to Riku, "Look riki I know you are worried about everything but don't be it wasn't your fault. Atraxa asked you too." Riku looked at Death the Kid and had to (Barely) resist the urge to kick him in the face before walking through. The city was uncomfortably bright as Riku traveled through it. He felt the feeling of being watched and to no one's surprise, he was. A Death scythe meister in a Kishin city was just asking for trouble, but curiously trouble is not what found him.

"He Mister...um are you lost," A pretty lady asked approaching Riku. her smile was kind and disarming. '

"Oh sorry Miss I am looking for someone who was supposed to be out here?"

"Oh well then maybe I can help you find her," the lady said. Riku smiled and replied

"Okay then sure. Hey, what's your name?”

“Oh I don't think you can pronounce it but please call me Natty,” the young woman replied. Riku nodded before outstretching his and giving his reply,

“Riku nice to meet you.” Natty Smiled at Riku before taking his hand. A spark of soul resonance was shared between them as their souls attuned to each other at a moment’s notice. Natty and Riku noticed the spark.

“Hey um weird question but are you uh…,” Riku stammered Natty smiled watching him all flustered, “are you a death weapon,” Riku finally choked out. Natty nodded. Riku nodded back, “Okay so I am a death weapon meister. I was sent here by Lord Death II to find one named, “Anatchaya Suputhipong” Have you seen them around before?” Natty laughed before nodding. Riku smiled relieved “Oh great can you help me find them,” he asked hopeful. Natty nodded before she replied

“I do need your help though. A demon is terrorizing my family can you help me kill it?” Rayami nodded and Natty squealed excitedly.“Oh my gosh thank you, you won't regret it,” Natty added. Riku shrugged and followed the excitable young woman. On the way, it clicked that Riku had no idea what her weapon form was.

“Um Natty quick question.” Natty turned and looked at Rayami with her big brown eyes with an intrigued look

“Yeah partner,” she said happy

“Um, we should probably go over battle strategy before we fight,” Riku responded

"Oh totally, but to be honest I thought we would resonate and you do all the fighting," Natty replied with a palpable innocence.

"So yeah about that. Ever since my last partner betrayed my soul resonates differently,"

"Is that why your skin is purple," Natty asked wide-eyed. Riku nodded before outstretching his hands again. he waited for Natty to take his hands. Natty looked at him confused

"So here's the play; we are going to attune ourselves to each other, and my knowledge will become yours and yours will become mine. Memories. Powers and Emotions will flow freely between us. The reason for this is that when we fight it won't be me or you doing all of the work but an even partnership," Riku explained.

"So we will be perfectly resonated," Natty asked excitedly

"No think of it as... a producer and a musician. we are both driving the experience however it will be like Music production. One of us will give guidance to the other and provide (hopefully) helpful commentary like a producer while the other is fighting," Rayami clarified. Natty smiled.

"So I will be able to use my weapon forms and not be the weapon the entire time," Natty asked. Riku nods. Natty is elated. at this. She smiles at Riku before taking his hands.

The shared soul-scape that the partners made was a Music studio. Natty being the more rambunctious of the two was the first driver. She looked at her hand and marveled that she was holding her weapon form for the first time.

"Everything good," Riku asked. Natty nodded with a smile before going to confront the demon.

Unsurprisingly the soulscape manifested as a studio for Riku. he looked around and felt at ease. Natty had given him an expansive but contained space. He had mixing tables, instruments, plus a bunch of other keys and tools that he was quite familiar with. the most comforting thing was the natural feel the studio had as if it had grown into an aged tree.

"How do you like your soulscape," Natty asked.

"Oh I love it," Riku replied pleasantly

"Great Now focus up I am going to need your magic to bolster our attacks," Natty said tensing. Her body language and affectation shifted from Cute innocent and playful to. Seductive, Lehtal, and determined. Riku got her mix ready as they neared Natty's large home. when she walked in she was stood face to face across from a "Demon" Riku knew quite well.

Rayami gritted his teeth before growling out, "Mallek!"

Sensing a new presence Mallek turned to face Natty. His monstrous form lumbered to address her with his bladed arm outstretched from his hand a facsimile of an offer for a friendly handshake.

"Have you brought me my Offering Natty," Mallek said with ravenous eyes. Natty glared before getting into a fighting stance.

Mallek looked at the young woman surprised before he teasingly said, "OH is this a burst of courage? You know what that means. When I am done with you I am going to kill your whole family!"

Hearing that Riku turned up the levels for Wind while lowering the channel for lighting. He also said to Natty, "Look Mallek is strong but sloppy use your Krabi-Krabong skills and he won't be able to hurt you."

"Got it," Natty replied before closing the distance. in the soundscape, Riku went over to his base and tuned it for Natty's solo: Sugarcoat. He began to play to start the resonance chain, and Natty felt the power behind him as her strength quadrupled. Mallek lunged forward with a reckless slash that Natty easily blocked and parried. She launches a counterattack of her own. a simple strike at where Mallek is the weakest. the joint where his flesh became metal, a quick tidbit given to her by a dialed-in Riku. Mallek stumbled as Natty's strike made her mark. Mallek's hand seized as he could no longer Summon his weapon form anymore, and with a mighty cleave, she cut Mallek in twain.

Realizing he could die here he began the process of recalling back to his safe house. He was terrified of this meister but felt a bizarre familiarity from the pair.

As the battle ended Riku materialized and looked Mallek in the eye silently. Mallek's eyes widened as realization hit them. Riku shrugged and walked away from Natty who went back to playful, bubbly, and happy, Natty gave a thumbs and the two walked off.

"That was so cool Iku. I was like dodge and woosh and then slam. it was perfect," Natty exclaimed excitedly. Riku smiled feeling at ease. he nodded. Natty smiled brighter

"You know we make a good team. Wanna make this partnership permanent," she asked hesitantly. Riku turned to Natty and sized her up.

"You know what Anatchaya Suputhipong I'd love to," Riku said as the two Headed back to the DWMA

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #soul eater #soul eater fanfiction #kiss of life natty #kiss of life #natty kiss of life #natty

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wangxianficrecs · 2 days

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💙 Preparing the Soil by Rynne

💙 Preparing the Soil

by Rynne (@rynne)

T, 26k, Wangxian

Part of the LWJ Birthday Serenade - Mini Bang

Summary: When Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian return to spend the first winter after their marriage in the Cloud Recesses, Wangji is forced to grapple with his uncle's resistance to accepting his new husband fully into the clan. At the heart of this conflict is Lan Qiren's rule forbidding talking to Wei Wuxian. How can Wangji make the Cloud Recesses a more welcoming place for his husband when what he fights now is his uncle's stubbornness? Kay's comments: As much as I love the ending of the novel with Wangxian having their happy ending, I always struggle a bit with picturing them living their best lives in Gusu, especially with Lan Qiren still around and Lan Xichen being in seclusion for some time. This story takes a good look at the "Talking to Wei Wuxian is Forbidden" rule of the Gusu Lan Sect and Lan Qiren's relationship with both Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian. He improving, but it's an uphill battle. Luckily, Lan Xichen is supportive. Really love this story, it feels true to the characters and optimistic in a realistic way. Excerpt: Stunned, Wangji could only stare at his uncle for a long moment. He had thought his uncle was resigned to Wei Ying's presence, especially after everything that was revealed during Jin Guangyao's downfall. He had not realized Lan Qiren was still angry at Wei Ying. A wave of reciprocal anger washed through Wangji, and he clenched his hands briefly on his thighs before he abruptly stood. "Then I will not trouble Shufu further," he said, hearing the tightness in his own voice. He bowed, as shortly as he could make himself, before he turned on his heel and left, feeling his uncle's stare against his back. He did not break the rule about running in the Cloud Recesses, but his stride was swift and his demeanor hard enough to cause more than one disciple to duck out of his way. His hands kept clenching until he forced his fingers loose and open. Out of habit, his feet turned towards the rabbit meadow. Before he took more than a few steps, though, he recalled that he had another option to help him let go of his anger. By the time he reached the Jingshi, his temper dissipated a little. He stopped in front of the door, taking several deep breaths to calm down further. He did not want to bring anger into the home he shared with Wei Ying.

pov lan wangji, post-canon, established relationship, family feels, lan family feels, gusu lan sect rules, uncle-nephew relationship, chinese holidays, birthdays, good kid lan sizhui, married lan wangji/wei wuxian, soft lan wangji/wei wuxian, good sibling lan xichen, lan qiren tries, not jiang cheng friendly, music

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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frog-man-moments · 1 day

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Not agent 4.

first person pov parallel canon identity crisis

(my first fanfic ever so any advice is helpful. also be gentle i am soft and this is shit)

You are agent 4. You have been assigned a special task; you have been assigned to guard the memverse by Order to ensure that Orders plans of world order can be achieved. You have a squad of robots to assist you in defense.

As you sit there waiting for something to happen you think about your past, and your soon to be wife, agent 8. You remember the day you purposed to her during a date at her favorite place in the world, wahoo world. While you liked it before that place became your favorite place in the world much like her, possibly even more.

That day is unforgettable to you now. You think about her face when you asked her, how you both were crying and kissing while admiring the beautiful pink gemstone on the ring. (and the other things you two did later that night .) But now you have to be away from her, no longer able to kiss that gorgeous face and body of hers. You love her more than anything in the world-

The elevator door opens with a ding. You turn your head towards the elevator, away from the wall you were looking at while zoning out. You quickly realize who you are looking at, its agent 8. Your quickly jump down to greet her exited to see her, yet curious as to why she's here and what's going on. 8 has look of sorrow and stress on her face you open your mouth to say- "don't listen to anything it says, it's just a clone" Marina speaks as agent 8 jumps into action.

You fumble for a moment as you call upon your robot guards to help you in this fight. As you battle your love you repeatedly beg her to stop, to listen but Marina, pearl, and a new voice you never heard before repeats the statement Marina began with. You're just a clone. But you're not a clone, you are agent 4, you bring up old memories and good times you shared together, but no matter what the others talking to agent 8 keep reassuring her, that you are just a clone.

You can't do this, after a while you are on the ground, with eight aiming her weapon at you. "Please eight, we were about to get married, why are you doing this? I thought you loved me, I thought you wanted to marry me. And now you hurt me and are just planning to leave me? I'm not a clone please listen to me!" You cry as agent 8 has a tear fall down her face. "It's just a clone don't listen 8" Marina says, there is even some pain her voice but it doesn't matter. 8 fires on you leaving you splatted and alone with her moving on to another floor.

How ever instead of respawning you find yourself somewhere dark, cold, feeling confused and disconnected. You feel like you have been out cold for hours as you feel like you are watching you're body from third person. You wonder what Pearl and Marina were talking about, calling you a clone. If anything, they were probably the clones with some sort of sinister plot. Manipulating agent 8. but then you see yourself, rushing towards somewhere, where to? You don't know. You see agent 8 full on sprinting towards the other you as she tackles the other you to the ground. 8 smother the other you in kisses and tears, an emotional reunion, that doesn't involve you.

You, that is you, well whatever it is. It is not you, it looks like you but it's not. the other you picks up agent 8 giving her kisses and then asks a question, "what happened?" they asked. "look its a long and we can explain it later but eight was really stressed out" Marina said. "Yeah there was this weird clone of you that really freaked her out, I think it would be best if you take her home and take care of her"

No, no no no no. This can't be right, right? you begin to panic as you realize they were right. You are a clone. You begin to think about the gaps in your memories, or rather agent 4's memories. They were never yours's, you had a hard time with your memories because they weren't yours. It was all lies, you were staring the truth right in the face. You were looking at agent 4, the real agent 4.

Because you are not agent 4.

#agent 4 #agent 8 #parallel cannon #angst #fanfiction #splatoon fanfiction #splatoon side order #splatoon 3 #agent 32 #frog-man posting

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americansrequiems · 1 day

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your life is one to share

tk/carlos, 1k, quick celebration fic bc happy one year to them!

(my ao3 situation is kinda awk rn, so here i am posting this on tumblr! i wrote this in an hour, so please be kind to me in the tags <3)

One more hour and you'll know your life is one to share Just a minute, baby, right before we go from here All those people said we wouldn't last a minute near I'm with you and I could roll into another year — one more hour, tame impala.

Carlos wakes up to sunlight streaming through the windows, and the feel of TK’s body snuggled up close against his own. The comforter is resting at their waists, and Carlos just takes the moment in, savoring it.

He opens one eye, lifting his left hand, and is immediately hit with the shine of a familiar gold band resting on his ring finger. And he smiles at the sight of it. One year. Carlos can’t help but grin at the feeling of being a husband, at the feeling of being known and loved. He still can’t wrap his mind around it, even after all this time— TK’s willing to look at his jagged little pieces and love him the same? It’s unbelievable to Carlos, something that makes him want to explode with joy.

(“I’m so fucking gone for you,” TK had said on that first night of their honeymoon, completely sated, tucked under strewn linen sheets, his arms wrapped around Carlos’ torso. Sweat is cooling on both of them, drying tacky against their skin and Carlos knows that they should shower, but he’s too invested in running his fingers over TK’s overly-warm skin.

“We did it, sweetheart.”

Carlos had stared down at their interlocked fingers, at their rings, a silent promise of never letting go. His heart thudded against his ribcage and he began to wonder how lucky a man could truly be. In all of his years on this earth, he couldn’t have even dreamt of a love so powerful, so all-consuming. When he looked at TK, the man just gave him a soft smile, and kissed him, tasting of the virgin piña coladas they both had drank earlier in the evening.

“We sure did,” Carlos replied against his lips, smiling into the kiss. There was this feeling of grief, an entity that was threatening to swallow him whole— but then, there was this: TK’s love. The love he has for TK, and the love that he receives from TK— is enough to mend his broken soul, is enough to make everything feel better. And Carlos holds onto that.)

TK stirs in his arms, enough to bring him out of the memory. He turns to face him, eyes slowly blinking open and Carlos can’t fight his smile. TK squints at him, and Carlos’ heart just melts— his hair is sticking up at all ends, his t-shirt is rumpled, and his emerald green eyes are shining with so much love that Carlos wonders where it all comes from.

"Morning,” Carlos plays with his wedding band for a moment, watching TK blink the sleep out of his eyes.

“Good morning,” TK mumbles, voice still edgy with sleep and Carlos feels a rush of desire flow down his spine. “Was dreaming about you.”

Carlos flips the two of them around, to where he’s on top of TK.

“Yeah?” Carlos asks softly, brushing their noses together. “Does it have anything to do with what day it is?”

“Maybe,” TK replies, a pink flush appearing on his cheekbones. He drags his hand over the soft skin of Carlos’ hip, smiling. “Remind me?” It’s a teasing question, Carlos can tell by the way TK’s brow lifts up.

“Oh, I’ll remind you.” Carlos leans in, and starts pressing kisses along TK’s jawline, his ear, and over the soft skin at his neck. TK writhes against him as he sucks at the base of his neck, his mind finally waking up, and thinking, oh. He’s never felt more cherished, more lucky.

“Baby—babe,” TK gasps slightly as Carlos pulls away, his hands coming up to cradle his face. His eyes are wide now, with lust and love and Carlos just gets lost in the sheer brilliance of them, in the brilliance of him, of his husband. One year. One year of love and it’s all endless, and Carlos can’t get enough of it and he knows that this well that rests in his soul will never run out of love for TK. And he can’t— he can’t put all of that into words, so he just exhales.

“My god, I love you,” Carlos mumbles, as he runs his fingers over TK’s arms, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his soft touches.

He leans down to kiss TK’s shoulder, moving his lips down to kiss at his biceps, running his tongue over the tattoo on his inner arm. Carlos feels TK shiver, whispering i love you more, his hands coming up to rest on Carlos’ back. Carlos relishes in it— relishes in the feeling of TK’s blunt nails digging into his back during sex; he aches for the feeling of his husband’s fingers in his hair, scratching at the scalp as he runs them through his curls. Whenever TK gets close enough to touch, Carlos doesn’t waste a moment. Over the years, he’s grown tactile (which he blames TK for) always needing to touch TK, even if it’s small.

“Happy anniversary, Mr. Reyes-Strand,” TK murmurs, breathless. Carlos grins down at him, hands rubbing circles over his chest, still smiling as he kisses over TK’s cheekbone. Carlos can feel his husband’s smile widen, even as he kisses all over his face: his nose, over his jaw again, making a point to drag his teeth over the stubble— causing TK to gasp softly. When he’s finished, he lifts his head up and looks at his husband, and thinks, my god. His heart thrums in time with this emotion inside of him, nearly overwhelming. It’s enough to make Carlos feel as if he’s on fucking cloud nine. It makes him feel weightless, as if he’s been saved.

And truthfully, TK has saved his life. He’s the bright spot in a cloud of grief, he’s the eternal flame at the end of a never ending tunnel— he was just some guy underneath a rainstorm that night, was just some firefighter at the bar— honestly, Carlos knew this would happen. As soon as he looked into TK’s eyes, when he took his hand for the first time… he knew that they would end up together. It wasn’t just some pipe dream, it was, as Gwyn would say, kismet. And Carlos never believed in that until he met TK. But he certainly believes in it now as he lazily runs his fingers through TK’s unruly hair, and says:

“Happy anniversary, husband.”

#911ls #911ls fic #911 lone star #tk x carlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #this is just fluff ! have at it !#dare i say…. the quickest thing i’ve written 💍

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penelopepine · 1 hour

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Don't be a stranger! Pt. 7

Part 6 Part 7

Simon "Ghost" Riley x FemReader

Content: Neighbors AU, fluff, developing relationship

Simon gives a few hard knocks on your door, “Love, it’s me, Simon.”

He waited for what felt like an eternity for you to open that door. While waiting he wondered if you had finally come to your senses, and decided that you didn’t want him in your life anymore; that you would call out and tell him to leave. You didn't though; you opened the door.

That was when he saw you.

In the moment he felt like he did the first time you opened your door for him. You looked just as nervous this time as well.

The cracked door is swung open once you've confirmed that it is him standing at the door. You rush out the door and fling yourself at Simon. "I’m so upset and you have so much to explain to me, but first please tell me you're ok." Your voice is muffled as your head is pressed into his shoulder.

Immediately his own arms are wrapping around you as well. He hasn’t seen you in so long, and he needs confirmation that you're alright especially after the mess he witnessed in your flat. He doesn’t know when they showed up, but if he had waited to call you Simon doesn’t know what would have happened to you.

“I’m alright, love.” He whispers to you. “Let's go inside your room. I’ll explain as much as I can right now.”

You take a deep breath before releasing your hold on him and nodding your head. Silently the two of you walk back into the room; you both taking a seat across from another. "Am I in danger?" you finally speak after a few slow seconds.

"Maybe." There was no point in lying to you Simon reasoned with himself. Plus he didn't want you to think everything was alright only for you to get hurt because he lied to you.

You close your eyes and take a few shuddering breaths. He wished that he could comfort you right now, but he doesn't want to overstep with you right now. When you're done you make sure to look him directly in the eyes, "What happens now?"

"Now you and I are going to go back to base. A car, and my team, are waiting outside for us. You'll have to talk about your encounter with those men in great detail. It's not going to be a fun conversation. After that is entirely dependent on what is found during our investigations."

"I'm not in trouble am I?"

"You're fine, but depending on what is found you're probably going to be under protective custody until this matter is resolved." Simon knew Laswell was going to either set you up with a room on base or in a safehouse nearby. With the way you keep messing with your hands it's clear that he's not helping much with your nerves.

It only takes you a few moments to respond to him, "Will I be able to see you at least?"

"Love, I'm going to be with you every step of the way."

Your body finally seems to relax upon hearing those words. "Ok."

"Ok?"

"Ok, I'm ready to go then."

Once confirming that you're all packed up Simon doesn't even give you a chance to pick up your bag. He simply throws it over his shoulder, and leads you out the door, and it isn’t until he’s out in the parking lot does he debate leading you back inside.

Soap and Gaz are waiting outside the car; wide grins on their faces as soon as they see the two of you. He swears if either of them says anything regarding “Operation: Wingman” he might just have to kill them. Simon doesn’t want help, specifically from them, as he tries to gauge how you feel about him.

It's Gaz who is the first to approach you, "Hello, I'm Gaz and you must be the one sending those amazing treats to our Lieutenant here."

"Oh so he has been sharing then; that's good! I was worried that he's been keeping them to himself." You two give a friendly handshake, "It seems I'll be hanging around for a bit. You'll have to tell me your favorite sweets. I'll make you whatever you want!"

"I'll keep you to that!"

Coming up right behind Gaz is Soap, and based on the smile on his face it's clear that causing mischief is the only thing on his mind. "Aye, lass I will as well! Those treats were to die for. So nice of you to make those for your boyfriend." He extends his hand for a handshake as well, "I'm Soap by the way!"

"Johnny!" Simon watches as your goes immediately red, and meets his eyes for a few seconds before turning back to Soap.

"Oh! Um…we're not dating!" You stammer out now pointing avoiding his gaze.

“Really?” Johnny puts on a surprised face, “Well, let me tell you then-”

“Soap!” Price's voice suddenly calls out. He gives Soap a hard look before directing his gaze toward Simon. “Are we ready to go Ghost?”

Simon puts his hand on back and begins to push you towards the car; away from Johnny. “More than ready, let’s go.”

“Ghost?” He hears you whisper to yourself. That was another thing he was going to have to talk to you about. Before now he had kept Ghost from you, but it seems you and Ghost we’re going to be very well acquainted with you coming on base.

“That’s me, love, that’s the name you’ll need to call me from now on.”

“Got it.”

With that he puts your bag in back, and helps you get comfortable in the car. Making sure to give you the window seat; putting himself in the middle. It’ll be uncomfortable, but he’s not about to put you right next to Johnny. Who climbs in the back with them; Gaz sitting in the front with Price.

Before starting though Price turns in his seat, and extends a hand to you, “Pleasure to meet you, name’s John Price, but you can just call me Price.”

You also exchange your name with Price with a soft smile.

The rest of the car ride is fairly simple. The two sergeants keep you entertained with light conversations while Simon thinks about how he is going to keep you safe and close to him while on base.

As soon as the car is parked on base Price is giving all of them orders, “Gaz you take the cameras to Laswell. Soap, Ghost, you two are going to escort our guest,” he gestures toward you, “to the main meeting room. Gaz and I will be joining you there soon.”

The walk is silent as Simon takes charge of leading you to the room. It isn’t until you’re all in the room does Johnny speak up, “Tell me lass, how did the two of you meet?”

“Oh,” Your checks start to turn red, “I was just moving in, and I was making a lot of unnecessary noise admittedly.”

“It sounded like an elephant was walking around your place,” Simon huffs.

You grin at Johnny, “He was so nice though coming over and helping me with everything.”

“Aye that’s my Lt.; such a gentleman this one,” mischief sparkles in Johnny’s eyes, “He’d make a great partner to any lass.”

Simon was going to have to talk with Johnny if he kept this up. Before he could say anything though the door opened.

It was Price and Gaz that entered the meeting room; Price motioned his hand towards you, “Alright lass, you can come with me now. You’re going to be talking with Laswell, a friend of ours, about everything.” He then looks at the rest of them, “You lads are going to go through all these files, and start investigating what’s going on.”

Gaz then drops all the files he had been holding onto the table, “Laswell says these are the most likely groups that might be behind all this.”

Simon grabs one of the files, but watches as leave; his eyes never leave you until the door shuts. He tries to focus on actually going through the papers, but he can’t stop thinking about you. All he wants to do is chase after you right now. Simon knows he can’t think like that though, and pushes those thoughts out of his mind.

Later when Price and you return it has been decided that you would be staying on base for now. Just to lay low while things are still fresh; if nothing happens again soon there would be talks of moving you to a secure location off base.

The rest of the day goes by fairly quickly. Simon takes to showing you around base, and getting you set up in your new room. It isn’t until later in the evening when the two of you are in your room do you have time to really talk in private.

“This is not how I imagined my weekend going.” You say move around the space.

Simon feels guilty thinking about that. He had just completely uprooted you from your home; not to mention your job. He’s sure Laswell has figured that situation out with you, but there's only so much that can be done before you may have to lose your job depending on how long you have to stay here. “You’ll be able to go home before you know it.”

“I’ll have to find a new flat first; this might as well be home for me right now.” You give a deep sigh, “I suppose you’ll be flat hunting as well.”

It’s easy to see where this is going, but Simon doesn’t want to be the one to bring it up in case he’s wrong. “I never really liked the place anyway; you can definitely find a better flat in no time.”

You nervously ask your next question, “Do you want to look together? I’d love to still have you close by, or we could be roommates!”

“You’d willingly let me live with you?”

“Of course!” You're smiling now; more confident when he didn’t immediately shut the idea down, “You were practically already living me before all of this.”

“I’ll think about it; we can discuss it once everything has been settled.”

Conversations between you two continue to flow as if you hadn’t been apart for a month. It’s everything Simon has been hoping for once he saw you again. Everything must come to an end though, and the yawn you give tells him that it is once again time to say goodbye.

“Goodnight Simon!”

“Goodnight love, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Having you on base quickly becomes a new normal to Simon as the days go by. You’ve also been making the most of this situation first by becoming Price’s unofficial secretary. Helping him with his filing system, and reorganizing the storage room. It was amusing watching Price practically on the verge of tears seeing that you fixed that mess of a room. Simon may have overheard Price talking to Laswell about what he would have to do to get you a permanent position as well.

Then you had taken to cooking in the 141’s private kitchen. Gaz is the one you would normally drag into the kitchen to be your taste tester. Your reason being that he offered the best advice and wouldn’t lie about how he truly felt about a dish. It happens so often that Gaz now just goes to the kitchen early, and helps you with cooking the entire meal.

Lastly you’ve been drawing with Johnny whenever you both have time. You were in the commons room with your sketchbook when Johnny coincidentally came in with his own as well. This had been the start of you two spending more time together, and exchanging art tips and tricks with each other.

Any other time outside of this you could be found right next to Simon. Which is why when one afternoon you weren’t there he began to worry. He knew Gaz was training some of the recruits and Price was in another meeting with Laswell. So Simon knew you wouldn’t be with either of them. Which only left Soap, the problem being though is that Johnny was also nowhere to be found.

Just as he was about to check your phone location an incoming call from Soap came in. He didn’t waste any time answering.

“Johnny.”

“She’s gone.”

Note:

Sorry this took forever to get out! but on the bright side this chapter is like 2k words to make up for that. Feel free to let me know what you think about this; I love feedback whenever I write!

Taglist: @nexthyperfix @yourdaydreamerfan @tf141gloryhole @just-pure-trash @definitelynotaclown

@141tfsan @arminarlertssword @openup-yourmind @evie-119 @v1x3n

@whos-fran @trcyyyyy @azkza @kaoyamamegami @yyiikes

@leryg0 @pansexualhailstorm @trulovekay @kdidgg @ane-sthesie

@zhongtar

#x reader #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #fem reader #ghost x reader #task force 141 #female reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #john soap mactavish

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sleepdeprivationandcoffee · 4 months

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If any of you plan on having kids, please for your sake please have a good support system. I mean people who will take kiddo for a few hours so you can sleep/clean/relax without stressing, people who will help with chores and help pick up the slack when you start feeling worn thin, and people who will encourage and remind you that you’re doing great. It’s so so so hard when you can’t get the help you need.

Future parents, please do this for yourself. Please ask for help and build yourself a safety net of people you trust to care for you like you would care for them.

#I’m am not great and it’s not my kid’s fault at all #I just physically have not been away from her more than 2 weeks (collectively) since she was born #I have had little to no babysitting #my partner daughter and I share a room with our dog #while cleaning his parent’s hoard so we can have more space in the downstairs #my family has been so weird going between actually loving to cold/rude/critical when I don’t let them treat me like a doormat #my CPTSD and bipolar have been ripping me apart mentally #I’m so so so tired and sad and upset and guilty for everything I’m feeling #for little outbursts of yelling/slamming stuff down/shutting down entirely/feeling disdainful towards everyone around me for short periods #none of this is okay #I’m trying so hard to get the help I need and I’m getting there I’m so close guys I’m so close #but I’m breaking under the weight of it all #if it wasn’t for my partner I would’ve certainly killed myself in the past couple years #he’s been my rock and best friend from the moment I met him #and he’s the only thing keeping me together #uuuugh long rant uh #just please take care of yourself before you lose friends and find familial relationships stressed/broken

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sttoru · 25 days

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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your bestfriend, satoru, sends your cheating boyfriend a rather explicit video of the two of you as revenge.

tags. best friend!gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. dōggy style. dirty talk. crēampie. reader gets called ‘pretty, angel, baby’. cheating. consensual fīlming. anon req.

“mmshiit, should’ve fucked you long time ago,” satoru hisses, his hips stuttering against the plump flesh of your ass. he’s unable to stop himself now that he’s got his pretty best friend underneath him—in a sinful position he has only had wet dreams of.

one moment you’re crying because of your cheating boyfriend and the next you’re getting your guts rearranged by your bestfriend who comforted you through it all.

your mascara stains satoru’s pillow, your drool doing the exact same. you’re acting like a total slut for his cock, mewling for him to give you more, to give it to you faster and harder. all of which is caught on tape.

“yeah? want more, baby?” satoru coos as he holds up your phone with one hand. his other one is gripping the side of your hip—keeping your ass perked up so he can continue hitting that right spot inside of your greedy cunt. the white-haired man snickers behind the camera, “c’mon—tell your boyfriend just how much y’ need your best friend’s cock.”

you know satoru’s filming himself hitting it from the back. it’s nasty, but it only serves to excite you. you know your ‘boyfriend’ will be enraged once he receives the erotic video from you. he’s never liked satoru neither, always preventing you two from meeting each other. which was a red flag by itself.

you’ll show that hypocritical bastard.

“need more, ‘toru, please—” you babble, your voice muffled by the pillow. your body jerks with each hard thrust. every move is made with precision, with the intention of pleasuring you until your insides remember the shape of his dick only, “fuckk, ‘tis too big.”

satoru grins smugly. you’re basically admitting that he’s way bigger than that excuse of a man you’re dating. his ego gets a huge boost and it shows when he drives his throbbing cock deeper into your tight cunt.

“awwh, i know, but i bet my sweet girl can take it,” your best friend encourages you through a raspy voice. the fact that he called you his ‘sweet girl’ drives you insane. your pussy squeezes around his cock in response.

satoru’s eyes nearly roll back from the way you’re gripping him. he moves his other hand around your hips until his fingertips find your clitoris. he over stimulates you until you’re crying of pleasure.

you end up clenching around his fat dick even more. it feels like you’re trying to snap his cock in half with how much you’re sucking him in. there’s not a chance of it slipping out of you.

satoru moans loudly without any shame, letting both you and your boyfriend - who’d watch the video later - know how much he enjoys pounding your cunt like it’s actually his; “y’re so fucking tight. you sure your boyfriend’s been fucking you?”

you feel embarrassed by how much you’re enjoying his dirty talk. satoru’s drilling his cock into you so well to the point that you’ve forgotten all about the intimacy you shared with your cheating boyfriend. it was nothing compared to how satoru is treating you right this moment.

the white-haired man continues, still not believing that he’s finally living out his dreams. your body is heaven to him. satoru can’t help but whimper at the feeling your pussy sucking him in so desperately, “feels like your pussy hasn’t had any dick in a good while.”

the way you’re basically screaming into the pillow is enough evidence to confirm that your boyfriend has never fucked you properly at all. that delicious arch of your back, that ass of yours bouncing back on his pelvis in circles. . . satoru just knows it.

you hiccup and try to speak. you know your boyfriend is going to see the video and that only drives you to be more vocal than you already are. you’re going to get revenge and you’re going to make it as painful as possible.

“y-yeah,” you agree with satoru’s words. your words are basically slurred—too cockdrunk to properly talk. you lift your head up for a second to breathe and continue your whiny babbling between moans, “he’s n-never fucked me as well as you—ngh!”

your voice is perfect. everything about you is. satoru isn’t sure if he’ll even last long like this. he wants to claim you as his girl already. he wants to thrust his cum as deep as he can inside of you so you’ll only think of him.

“poor, poor baby,” satoru pouts and rubs your ass gently as he watches it bounce back at him with every thrust. the view is hypnotising. he cannot grasp the fact that your boyfriend fumbled such an amazing girl like you, “it’s okay. i’ll make it up to ya, mhm? i’ll treat you like a real man would.”

you nod and whimper in agreement, which gives satoru the green light. you’re going to be his at the end of this session. he’s going to claim you as his—finally—after all those years.

you feel yourself start to tremble. you feel tingly all over and your moans are getting louder. the curve in satoru’s dick is making your mind go blank. it makes his tip hit the deepest spots inside you, the right spots. you’re desperately searching for that sweet release.

“aht, aht, angel,” satoru clicks his tongue whilst deepening the arch of your back. his fingers trace the shape of your spine, feeling you shiver from the touch as he pounds you silly. “hold it in, yeah? need you to cum for me when i do. wanna fill this cunt to the brim.”

you try to hold on the best you can. after a couple more thrusts, satoru’s breath turns shaky and his noises turn into whimpers—a sign that he’s on the edge, “fuck fuck fuck fuck! baby- ‘m gnna cum!”

you gasp and your body spasms and squirms as you reach your climax at the exact same time. you feel your cunt being flood with spurts of semen. it’s so much—as if satoru’s been storing all of it just for you.

“there there. such a good girl,” satoru sighs and pulls out of you after making sure that you’ve settled down. he takes his dick out as slowly as possible, pointing the camera right at the lewd sight. his entire length is coated with a mixture of your slick and his white cum.

you shiver at the feeling of being left empty. satoru soothes you by pushing his cum back into your pussy with two long fingers. he films the entire process, focusing on your stuffed hole for a few seconds before putting the phone up.

satoru points the back camera at the both of you, getting the entire view of the messy bed. he grins and puts a peace sign up—ending the video with a mocking yet cold smile that’s directed to the man who’s going to be watching this video soon, “should’ve treated her better.”

oh, your boyfriend is going to be fuming. deserved..

#sttoru writes.#jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x y/n #divider by benkeibear

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yueebby · 8 months

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Dying thinking about gojo literally pinning and hardcore simping for reader, literally showering reader in praise, flattery and gifts because he no longer gives a damn about hiding his feelings, almost proposing to reader whenever he can and reader's just... completely clueless about it💀 and she thinks it's just gojo being friendly. Poor man would be absolutely devastated when he goes one day "[name] i'm in love with you" and she just goes "me too, i love all my friends!" 💀

she loves me, she loves me not! — gojo satoru x fem!reader

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo (what’s new), highschool!gojo, he’s pathetic but in love your honor, oblivious!reader, ooc gojo i got carried away soz

notes. anon, when i first read your ask i literally started giggling and kicking my feet. that. is. so. gojo coded.

“please reject gojo and put him out of his misery,” utahime implored, taking hold of both of your hands. you think she’s asking, no, begging you to. beside her, shoko nods vigorously.

“but why?” you furrow your eyebrows, perplexed by their sudden request. “i can’t reject someone who doesn’t like me.”

shoko giggles at your comment. her laughter only wanes when she notices the dead serious look on your face. “... you seriously have no idea what we’re talking about?”

“not really,” you shrug, criss-crossing your legs to find some comfort on the hard wooden floor in shoko’s small dorm. it was late, past midnight, and the three of you had a shared mission tomorrow, but for some reason your two friends managed to rope you into their drinking circle.

utahime and shoko exchanged a significant glance, their unspoken communication raising your curiosity. utahime takes a long sip of her beer.

“hopeless. they’re both hopeless,” your short haired brunette friend lamented, pinching her nose bridge. it leaves a faint pink mark.

intrigued, you lean in closer towards the two, “care to elaborate?”

“you’ve never once questioned satoru’s borderline inappropriate behavior?” shoko asks you earnestly. you ponder for a moment, trying to recall any moments in the two years you’ve known the snow-haired boy.

“satoru is satoru…” you mumble, shaking your head in denial.

utahime’s eyes bug comically. she slams her can of beer harshly on the ground. you wince at the loud noise of the metallic can hitting the floor.

“you’re kidding. even i can see through that jerk!” utahime’s black pigtails sway wildly.

“[name], how about what happened in shinjuku last week on our day off?” shoko quietly reminds you of last weekend when the two of you along with satoru and suguru decided to empty your pockets in one of tokyo’s largest entertainment wards.

utahime’s head whips back and forth from her best friend to you, “eh? what happened?!”

from behind the dressing room curtain, you voiced your concerns, “shoko, i don't think we can afford designer clothes on our student budget.” the cream-colored silk dress you wore clung to your body, its price tag undoubtedly surpassing a year's worth of your student earnings.

“don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” shoko’s voice carried a knowing smile. “just come out and show me the dress!” you think satoru’s carefree attitude is rubbing off on her.

with a nervous sigh, you emerged from the dressing room. the dress fit like a glove, accentuating your body in just the right places.

bright flashes from shoko's phone startled you, and she chuckled deviously while rapidly typing. she tossed her phone onto a luxurious cushion, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exposure.

“you look so sexy. even better than the model.” she gives you two thumbs up, eyes roaming your figure. you feel flushed at her praise.

“as flattered as i am, there’s no way i can afford this,” you look down at the dress, lips downturned. “i’d be in debt for life.”

“no need to worry,” shoko winked, leaving you confused. given that her income was similar to yours, it didn't make sense for her to be able to even dream of shopping designer.

a soft thud interrupted your conversation. you turn around to see a blue lollipop rolling on the expensive carpeting of the store.

“suguru, are my eyes deceiving me or is that an angel?” satoru's mouth is wide open as he shamelessly checks you out. he takes one of his hands and places it over his heart, gripping the fabric of his white shirt. the windbreaker he is wearing rustles at his dramatic movement.

“i think… i’m experiencing a heart attack! shoko help!” he kneels in the middle of the store dramatically. shoko shares an unamused look with suguru. the pair nod before simultaneously kicking satoru.

during all of the commotion, you stand awkwardly in the million yen dress.

“satoru, are you okay?” you watch him take the two blows from your friends, concern evident in your voice. he grunts softly before gently taking ahold of your hand.

“no,” he croaks with a playful glint in his eye. “i’m wounded and there’s only one way to fix it.”

you look at him, your gaze heavy with concern.

“i’m afraid you’ll have to kiss me for the pain to go away.” he added, blinking at you expectantly with his blue eyes.

you lightly shove him away from you. “you’re an idiot.” satoru laughs loudly.

“that’s what love does to a man.”

“yeah, yeah. i’m going to change out of this dress, don’t get into any more trouble while i’m gone.”

satoru’s grip on your hand strengthens, halting your actions.

“how much?”

“excuse me?”

“the dress. how much for it?” he stands up to his full height, reminding you of the obvious height difference between the two of you.

you're at loss for words. gojo was crazy, but definitely not crazy enough to spend a million yen on a silly dress.

shoko happily chimes into the conversation. “one million yen. it’ll be two million yen with the rest of my purchases though!”

suguru’s calm demeanor is replaced with shock. the black haired male’s jaw drops, “two million– satoru, you’re seriously not thinking about–”

“hah? who said i’m paying for your stuff?” gojo makes an ugly face at shoko.

she raises her hands innocently, “it’s not my fault the dresses come in a set. if you want to see your beloved [name] in that dress you’ll have to pay for mine as well.”

you watch shoko and satoru engage into a silent argument. the tension in the fitting room section is so thick, you think it’ll take a special grade weapon to slice through it.

trying to alleviate the mood you tell gojo, “satoru, you really don’t have to–”

“i’m buying you that dress.”

“o-okay.”

half an hour later, satoru happily strolls out of the store with an arm around your shoulder like he’d just won the lottery.

perhaps gojo is just naturally flirty, you had tried to reason to shoko and utahime.

it’s been a week since the eye-opening conversation with the two and you’ve found yourself on cleaning duty with said snow-haired boy. it was a miracle that satoru even showed up. he had a tendency to skip his turns, often resulting in a long lecture from yaga.

as the two of you worked silently in the empty classroom, you couldn't help but admire the setting sun. its golden rays painted the sky with hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over everything. unknowingly, while you gazed at the sky, gojo's gaze was firmly fixed on you.

breaking the silence, he asked, "have you ever thought about getting married?"

his question caught you off guard, causing you to momentarily pause from wiping the windows.

“not really,” you replied, biting your lip gently. “unless my family decides to arrange a marriage. you know how unforgiving the world of jujutsu sorcery is.”

gojo's grip on the broom tightened, his eyes locking onto yours with a newfound intensity.

"we should get married y'know," he blurted out.

the piece of cloth you were using slipped from your hand in shock. surely, he couldn't mean what he was saying. after all, the two of you were only second years.

“what?”

“i’m saying i think i’m in love with you.”

“oh.”

silence engulfs the room once more before a soft giggle escapes your lips.

satoru can only watch, entranced.

“that’s good to hear! i love you too– and suguru and shoko! perhaps the four of us should all just get married.” you chuckle into your hand.

satoru can't help but stare at your hand in envy. perhaps if he were the palm of your hand, he’d be able to feel the touch of your lips.

but he couldn’t. he was cursed as a man with an overpowered innate technique, and despite it all he couldn’t even gain the one thing he desired. gojo satoru watched you, eyes filled with a mixture of longing and defeat.

his devastation does not go unnoticed by you.

you were under the impression that he was grumpy because yaga had forced him into cleaning with you.

"cheer up, satoru! if we finish early enough," you continue, your tone highspirited, "we can go to the new crepe shop that opened last week. my treat!" you winked, and that immediately caught his attention.

“like a date?” his eyes sparkled with hope.

you shrug, a smile on your face. “i suppose if you look at it from a certain perspective…”

“great, it’s a date!”

good things come to those who wait, satoru thinks, humming happily as he starts to sweep the room at an inhumane pace.

maybe in ten years time the two of you will be happily married with eight kids, he smiles to himself.

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #this is me coping bc of the leaks

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theragethatisdesire · 10 months

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scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!

hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!

beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol

pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader

wc: 9.1k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)

have fun ;)

This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.

“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”

“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.

“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”

“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.

“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”

“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”

You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”

He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.

You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.

You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.

It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.

When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”

“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.

You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”

“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”

You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”

If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.

As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”

“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.

“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.

“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.

“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.

Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.

“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”

“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.

“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”

You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–

“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.

“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”

“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.

“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”

You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.

“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.

The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.

“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.

“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”

The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.

“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.

“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.

Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.

“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”

One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”

Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”

Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”

Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.

“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”

“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.

Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.

You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.

“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.

“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”

“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”

“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”

Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”

“Sasha–”

“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”

“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”

“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.

You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.

Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.

You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?

He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.

“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.

His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–

Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.

The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.

“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.

“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.

Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.

“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”

“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.

Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.

“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”

“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.

A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”

“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”

Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”

“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”

“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.

“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”

“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.

A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.

Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.

“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”

“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”

“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.

He spits directly in Eren’s face.

Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.

“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.

“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.

“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”

You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.

“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.

“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.

He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.

Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.

Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.

“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”

“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.

“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”

No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”

You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.

“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.

Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.

“What the hell was that, Eren?”

He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.

“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”

“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.

“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”

“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.

Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”

“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.

Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”

“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”

Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”

“You’re my–”

“The other thing.”

“I needed you.”

“Again.”

“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”

He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”

“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.

“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”

Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.

“Do you still?”

“Still?”

“Need me.”

You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”

“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”

You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.

“I still need you. Now.”

Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.

“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”

A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.

His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”

You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”

Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.

Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.

Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.

“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.

“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.”

Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.

“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”

Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin.

“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”

“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.

“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”

A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.

“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”

“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.

“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”

Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.

He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.

Eren chuckles. “You need something?”

“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.

“You want me to stop fucking with you?”

“Please, Eren, I need you–”

“That’s all you had to say.”

And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.

Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.

“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.

“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.

“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“I need– fuck– I need more.”

“Magic word?”

“Please, Eren, fuck!”

“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”

Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.

“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it.

“Close?”

“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”

“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”

Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–

“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”

The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.

“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”

He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch.

“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”

Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”

You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”

You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”

Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.

Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.

“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”

“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”

You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.

“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”

“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”

You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.

And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.

“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”

You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.

“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”

“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”

“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.

Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.

You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.

“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”

You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.

Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.

You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.

“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”

“He’s not my-”

“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.

You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”

Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.

“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”

You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.

“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”

“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”

“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.

“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”

You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.

“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.

“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”

You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”

He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.

It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.

“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.

“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”

That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”

“Maybe he wants to apologize.”

Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”

“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.

Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.

“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”

There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.

“I just–”

“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”

You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”

“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”

Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”

“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.

“You might have me there.”

“Better than horseface?”

“Watch it.”

The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”

“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.

“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”

“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.

He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”

#aot x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren x you #eren yaeger x you #eren yeager smut #aot fanfiction #eren jaeger fic #eren jaeger fanfiction

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snoopyearss · 2 months

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When jjk characters call you ‘clingy’

Feat. crybaby-ish!reader

Gojo, geto, toji

Cw: hurt, guilt, angst (if you squint)

This is inspiration from a mini series i read a few days ago by user @fumekara. It was so good, I love me some angst to hurt/comfort.

But i also wrote this from personal experience too, my bad yall i treat this like my own personal diary

Anyway, enjoy!

Satoru Gojo

He was pissed. He doesn’t typically show it much, but when he does, he gets kind of scary. He’s more quiet, his voice gets deeper, and his whole body language just shifts. So when the higher-ups piss him off after a very long meeting, the last thing he needs is someone to pounce on him. He usually loves it when you greet him at the door when you’re home for work. But today, he just wanted to strip off his clothes and hop into bed.

Gojo huffs as he leaves the elevator of your shared apartment and grabs his keys from his pocket to unlock the door. As he opens the door, he sees you in the kitchen grabbing ingredients for dinner. “Hi baby,” You softly greeted him. “Hey.” was all he said back. It confused you for a second because he’s never greeted you like that before.

“Is everything okay?” You walk up to him to try to kiss him on his cheek. “God- Y/n, please.” He grumbled, walking right past you and placing his briefcase on the table. “I’m just trying to help,” you defended, walking up to take his coat off for him. “At least let me take your coat-” That’s when he snapped. Something he’s never done to you before. “Y/n, I fuckin’ got it! Geez, you’re so fucking clingy!” He aggressively shrugged your hands off his shoulder. It scared you a bit, to see him so angry at you. You were confused, all you wanted to do was make him feel better. Were you really that clingy?

“I-I’m sorry.” your voice came out shaky and defeated. Hearing how small your voice sounded in response to him lashing out made Satoru’s heart shatter into thousands of pieces. He wanted to turn around and apologize, but the words weren’t coming out. By the time he turned to face you, Your back was already facing him, preparing dinner for the both of you as tears rolled down your face.

Suguru Geto

It was 2 weeks after Suguru deflected. 2 weeks since he committed mass murder in that village. 2 weeks since he left Satoru, Shoko, and the others. It was weighing on him and you could tell. Nothing but him, his two adopted girls, a few people who believed in his cause, and you.

You promised him you would go wherever he would go, and he was so grateful for it. He loves you deeply and would do anything for you. But some days just threw everything on him at one time, today was one of those days. Monkeys non-sorcerers begging him to exercise curses left and right, Nanako and Mimiko begging him to take them shopping, missing payments from those begging for his service. It was all too much. And the guilt was eating away at him.

He genuinely wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying and it annoyed him how much talking you were doing in his ear at that moment. You were both sitting outside watching the two girls play in the yard. “Y/n,” He interrupted you. “Don’t you have something better to do than to just bother me?” He sighed sounding so condescending. “What do you mean?”

“Must you always cling to me? Isn’t there something else you can do besides following me everywhere I go, at all times of the day?!” His voice raised a bit as if he was talking to a non-sorcerer. “I didn’t realize I was. I was only trying to tell you about what me and the girls did today,” You defended. “You’re always so busy, I rarely get to see you anymore.”

“Yeah, because you’re always underneath me. Sometimes-” He stopped mid-sentence because of the saddened look on your face. His eyes softened a bit. “Sometimes I just need my space.” He sighed. You only nodded and started to walk back inside. “Ok, I understand.” Your voice cracked. Leaving Suguru alone to think about what he had just said to you. As if he didn’t feel guilt then, he definitely feels guilt now.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji was a bit frustrated today. He was cheated out of his money after doing a side job, the bet he placed on the race he kept constantly telling you about fell through, leaving him with zero, and to top it all off, the child support payment was coming up. You being an empath and knowing your boyfriend so well, you wanted to help him any way you could.

He was sitting in the chair by the island in the kitchen with his fingers combing through his hair. He was on the phone with multiple people at once, trying to solve his money issues. “Shiu, you guaranteed me way more money than this! How am I supposed to cover this months child support with this amount?!” You walked up to where he was, wondering what all the commotion was about. “Baby?” You softly called out. You could hear Shiu on the other line trying to calm him down and explain the situation.

“That sounds like a bunch of bull and you know it Shiu, you better have my money by next week thursday or else I’m taking it myself.” He grumbled and hung up the phone. “Baby,” You gently placed a hand on his broad shoulder.

“What, Y/n.” He sternly said. You merely blinked a few times. “I was just checking to see if you were okay. What’s with the attitude?”

“I’m fuckin’ frustrated okay? Please leave. You aren’t helping right now.” He waved you off.

“I barely did anything, I just wanted to know if you needed help with anything-”

“Jesus, I said enough! I don’t need your help. Fuck, you’re so clingy.” His voice booming caused you to remove your hand from his shoulder in fear. Seeing your reaction caused him to think about what he said and how he said it. The last think he wanted to do was scare you. He wanted you to feel safe around him. But with the way you jumped at how he raised his voice, it saddened him a bit.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He was cut off by the sound of his child wailing in the background. “I’ll take care of it.” You said in the smallest voice, not even leaving him time to protest against it and apologize.

“Fuck.”

Part 2

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #jjk geto #jjk toji #jjk angst #snoopyearss

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kissinkou · 1 month

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TAKE OFF YOUR PANTIES, HUH .ᐟ

ft. jjk men & their reactions to your new lingerie set <3

cw : highly suggestive. cursing. mentions of oral f!r, fingering, squirting. allusions to s3x. petnames ( angel, baby, sweetheart, my love, doll, good girl ). @sinugu @vegazm for youssss !! :>

ᰔ˚⊹ — GOJO

satoru thinks nothing in this world could ever top the sight of you in pretty white lace. you look like an angel, he’ll say. when he comes home from a long day at work, you’re his darling deity here to rescue him from his stressful life. satoru will stare at you, clad in your cheeky white panties and silky laced white bra. and maybe, he’s the devil to your angel, because he’s ready to ravage you like a wild animal as soon as he walks through the door. he rips your brand new set ? that’s alright, he can always buy you a new one.

“ all dressed up f’me ? fuck, s’pretty. c’mere angel, promise i wont bite. ”

ᰔ˚⊹ — GETO

suguru swears under his breath the moment he walks into your shared room and sees you all dressed in pretty pastel pink. he’ll pretend to be all nice and calm at first, but don’t let the good guy act fool you, because as soon as he reaches the end of the bed where you reside, you’re absolutely done for. he’ll make you keep that set on when he’s licking a stripe up your panties, only letting you take them off when you’re practically begging for him to stop teasing. that’s only the beginning of it, because you’re still clad in your pink bra 3 orgasms later, and he’s still nose deep in your pussy.

“ oh ? s’cute, baby. now lemme get a taste of those new panties, yeah ? ”

ᰔ˚⊹ — CHOSO

choso is almost as flustered as you are. walking in to see his precious girlfriend, all dressed up in periwinkle lace and frilly hems. oh, you just look so cute and so tempting he cant help but grow hard almost immediately upon entering the room. his cheeks will grow into a furious blush, face red and hot as he compliments you and your stunning new lingerie. but be careful, because once choso has you, you might not be able to get away. he’ll beg you to keep the whole set on the entire time, sucking around your plush tits and running his fingers over your soaked panties, completely desperate and eager to have you all to himself.

“ you look so beautiful, sweetheart. can i touch you ? please ? wanna feel you so bad... ”

ᰔ˚⊹ — SUKUNA

ryomen gets cocky from seeing you all dressed up, and it’s just for his eyes only. his hands will explore every crevice of you they can, finger hooking on your red bra strap to chuckle at the way you whimper when it snaps back. he’ll have you sat on his lap, holding you still at his mercy on his kings chair. oh, and you might want to get yourself another set of garments, because those panties are going straight into his pocket for later when he’s done with you.

“ yeah ? got all prettied up f’me ? come sit on my lap like a good girl, you deserve a throne. ”

ᰔ˚⊹ — NANAMI

nanami thinks that this is just what he needed. coming home to his pretty girl after a days worth of frustration, eager to let out his stress on you. and god, that lingerie looked so good he practically fell to his knees the second he made it through the door. he’ll have you pressed up against his chest, shushing you as you whine and squirm in his hold as his fingers drill into you at an unforgiving speed. he’ll keep going, pleasing you to no end until you’re bucking your hips and squirting all over his hand.

“ so gorgeous, my love. such a good girl f’me. let me show you just how much this means to me, hm ? ”

ᰔ˚⊹ — TOJI

toji believes that he’s just won the lottery, and you’re his shining prize. all fancied up in sleek black lingerie, lace and mesh covering the expanse of your desirable skin. he’s ready to give you exactly what you want, if you’ll let him have you. and don’t be upset if he rips your pretty fishnets, because he’ll just fuck that cute pout off your face. he’ll pound into you mercilessly from behind, obscene hole ripped into your tights so he can fit inside you just right.

“ aw, how precious. don’t worry, i’ll treat ya nice. face down, ass up, doll. ”

@/nyyrami has plagiarized this work of mine. please beware !!

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augustinewrites · 6 months

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dress + nanami

“i bought you something.”

you frown slightly, eyeing the sleek box that nanami places on the bed.

“but i didn’t get you anything…”

he simply smiles, gently taking your hand and smoothing his thumb over the gold band adorning your ring finger. “allowing me to marry you this afternoon was the greatest gift you could ever give me.”

memories of your little ceremony still linger in the forefront of your mind. you’d married him atop a small rooftop garden filled with this season’s blooms, surrounded by your closest friends and family. you’d never been an extremely sentimental person, but the way he’d gazed at you and whispered vows meant for your ears and yours alone…you’d hold that close to your heart forever.

“no take backs, by the way,” you say when you feel tears prick at the back of your eyes once more. “you’re stuck with me, even though i snore.”

“your snores are adorable. like a bunny holding a chainsaw.”

“hey!” you laugh, letting him wrap his arms around you from behind, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“just let your husband spoil you, hm?”

nanami loves to spoil you. he’s always had such lovely taste, picking soft, pretty things that catch his eye in shop windows— a pair of leather gloves, a stylish sweater, a diamond bracelet. each gift is thoughtful, always complimenting you perfectly,

you lift the lid of the box, peeling back layers of tissue paper to reveal a delicate, silky white dress.

“kento…” you breathe, feeling his lips curl into a smile against your skin. gingerly, you lift the feather-light dress by dainty straps, taking in the cowl neck and tasteful high slit.

simple, yet elegant, like him.

“for you to wear to the reception,” he murmurs, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder. “do you like it?”

“i love it,” you tell him truthfully, turning to look at him. “help me put it on?”

your husband couldn’t look more pleased, especially when deft fingers undo the back of your bespoke wedding gown and he sees what you’d snuck on underneath.

but nanami is nothing if not efficient, clearing his throat before helping you step out of your current dress and into your new one, the material gliding against your skin like butter.

“you’re a vision,” he whispers, brushing another kiss to the back of your neck. with heat in your cheeks, you turn in his embrace, bringing your lips up to his.

the rest of the world begins to melt away, as it often does when you’re with him. but it’s different now. it’s different because in the eyes of the law, you’ve chosen him and he’s chosen you.

so you share eager kisses in the warm lamplight of the hotel room, his hands gentle as they slide over the smooth material of your dress.

and eventually, up the slit resting atop your thigh. his warm hands rest on your bare skin, setting off sparks of pleasure up your spine.

“we shouldn’t,” you breathe as he plants open mouthed kisses on the hollow of your throat. “we need to check on our guests— you know satoru gets weepy when he’s had more than one drink.”

nanami pulls back to look at you, pupils blown with desire as he takes in your smeared lipstick and wide-eyed stare.

he responds by pulling you close with his grip on your hips, a groan slipping past your lips as he does so.

“they can wait,” he tells you, walking you backwards until your knees buckle against the edge of the bed. “i’ve waited long enough to be alone with my wife.”

he’s waited for this moment even when he hadn’t realized he’d wanted this, wanted you. he’s wanted it since the days you’d shared at jujutsu tech, when he’d been a besotted schoolboy, pining after his classmate.

nanami’s always been a patient man—

he yanks the skirt of your new dress up around your hips and kisses a trail down your chest.

— except when he’s not.

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #nanami fluff #[—augustine’s two year celebration!]

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angellcherry · 3 months

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— home.

» pairing: jungkook x reader

» genre: fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort, nsfw

» synopsis: “show me your thorns, and I'll show you hands ready to bleed.”

» warnings: allusions to depression, brief mentions of self harm (nothing graphic!), a little bit of angst, cuddling, reassurance, jungkook is a big green flag, talks of therapy and healing, confessions, lots of kisses, he's down bad and so in love :( (they both are), pet names, soft!dom jk, slight size kink, missionary bc he needs to look at her and kiss her 😩, praise, dirty talk, choking, creampie, aftercare

His hand curled around the nape of your neck the moment your lips touched. Warmth trickled down your spine, and he titled his head; tongue prodding at your soft lips, like he wanted you down to the marrow. Like he wanted to dip into your soul, kiss after kiss, until he was completely submerged; until he's explored every nook and crevice, felt every bump and crack.

He pulled away from the heat of your mouth slowly, reluctantly, eyes half lidded and dark. Lungs expanding to take in more air, voice coming out hoarse.

"You weren't answering your phone..."

"I know," you whispered, "I'm sorry."

Jungkook shook his head.

"No need to be sorry, baby," he lifted your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the soft skin there. "I was just worried."

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in closer. You sank into his embrace so easily; like you just came home. In a way, you have. He hasn't seen you in over a week...

It may not have seemed like much, but your absence was tangible. Suffocating. Especially when he didn't know if something was wrong.

"I'm glad you're here," he murmured.

You turned your head to peck his shoulder, fingers entwining, and then you were walking towards his bedroom as though it was second nature. The change in your demeanor had the corners of Jungkook's eyes crinkling from smiling. You practically skipped over to his bed, hopping onto the large mattress.

"Can I get a shirt, please?"

He didn't think you comprehended how fucking cute you were. He turned to open his closet and began rummaging through it.

"At this point, I'm pretty sure I'd kill someone if you asked me," he muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing, baby."

Flushing, he ignored the curious tilt of your head and threw you his favorite t-shirt.

God, how could someone be so fucking cute?

You were always excited to nap in his bed, share food and wear his clothes. The fact that it brought you comfort made his already lovesick heart swell up and ache. Something so simple, but so domestic — it fucked with his head. He wanted this every day, in every life. You were his comfort, too. Why couldn't you see it?

He leaned against his closet, arms crossed, watching you slip out of your clothes, the heap landing on the floor. It was art. You were so beautiful; inside and out. He couldn't help the way his stomach stirred and heart fluttered, yet instead of acting on his urges, he just walked over to you and bent down to pick up your clothes.

While you got into his shirt, he folded them neatly and placed them on his gaming chair.

"I missed this bed so much," you sighed.

Jungkook glanced over at you, taking a moment to drink in the image of you lying there, the black cotton of his shirt slightly too wide and too long for your body; but fuck, it looked perfect to him. He bit his lip, making his way to climb onto the mattress beside you.

"What about me?" He asked, delighted by how you opened up your arms, instinctively scooting closer to him.

"Hm, what about you?"

Jungkook pouted, eyebrows furrowing. His arms wrapped around your waist.

"Hey."

You giggled, peppering his face with kisses, and he wished he could live in this moment forever, stop all the clocks, kill time. To hell with what that would do to the universe.

"I missed you, too."

Just like that, he melted. Somehow, it hurt so bad; he had you right there, and yet he didn't. Disappearing and reappearing. Out of reach, like a mirage.

He lifted your hand to his lips again, momentarily distracted by how small it was compared to his.

"So tiny."

Amused at the scoff you let out, he turned it to kiss your palm, then paused abruptly.

A raw shade of red caught his attention.

Narrowing his eyes, he examined the wounds around multiple fingers — or at least tried to, before you caught on and pulled your hand away like you got burned.

His heart dropped.

It's been a while. Why were you doing this to yourself again?

Fuck. He felt like a failure of a man.

He swallowed thickly, then pulled you in closer, as if treading on thin ice. Terrified of making a mistake and feeling it crack under his weight. Once he was under, once it all fell apart, he didn't know if you'd let him in again.

"Baby..." he whispered into your hair.

"I'm so tired, Jungkook," mellow, you answered the question he didn't get to ask. "I don't know what's wrong with me..."

"Talk to me," he pleaded. "I can't help you if you shut me down."

You sniffed quietly. There was a loud crack. Not in the ice, but in his chest.

"You can't help me either way."

Jungkook tried to lift his head to look at you, but you gripped his hoodie, bunching up the fabric in your hand.

"Baby—"

"Not everyone deserves help," you insisted, a wet sigh following. "What's wrong with me? Why can't I help myself? E-everyone else seems to be doing just fine, a-and I'm just rotting away, filled with these ugly thoughts and feelings, I can't do anything right."

Jungkook hugged you tighter, like he hoped he could mold you together, give you as much of him as you needed to feel whole again. He'd let you rip him to pieces to fill the void.

"Stop saying that," he breathed, his eyes burning, "fuck, stop saying that."

He stroked your back as you cried into his chest, softly, feeling helpless and furious at the same time.

"When you're always in the dark," he whispered, "you learn to make friends with monsters to survive. It's all you know, so it's what feels most comfortable."

He heard you inhale, felt your head lift with hesitation. Eyes swollen, glossy, lower lip still trembling.

Jungkook cupped your face, wiping at the wet streaks.

"When you're always in the dark, sometimes... it feels like it's all you deserve. But it's not your fault. You're not a bad person," he said softly, his thumb rubbing your lower lip. "Sometimes, it's just the monsters you know talking."

You blinked, small and vulnerable, like a child who just woke up from a nightmare.

"I... I don't know..."

Jungkook squeezed your waist, so close his nose almost touched yours.

"But I know," he promised. "I know."

He stared into your eyes, watched them well up with more tears. He wished he could kiss them all away.

"Let me be there for you—"

You kissed him, and once again, it hurt. Because he wanted you, he wanted you so bad, but not like this — why didn't you want him, too?

Outside of the bedroom, when you weren't tangled in sheets, it seemed like you had no interest in letting your walls down. He's spent so much time trying to climb them, only to end up with broken bones, back down on the ground again.

He couldn't do this anymore.

He pulled away from your lips, denying you the oblivion you craved. He wanted to let you use him, he'd do it every day if it meant he could see you again. But he was afraid that if he didn't speak up now, he'd never find the courage to do it.

"I want to be with you," he breathed out. "Why won't you let me love you?"

There was an instant change in your expression that made his stomach lurch.

"I— I..."

A pause, filled with uncertainty.

Jungkook searched your eyes. The windows to the soul, they said. Broken, and the interior was dark. Nothing good lurked in there.

"I love you," he repeated.

His heart pounded in his chest. He stared right into this endless darkness, crawling with insecurities and fear. As though he was hoping the warm whisper would chase away the frigid, haunted air breaking through, make all the other voices come to a halt.

He was no longer a boy, but a man, and he feared no monsters. He wanted to flood the space with light.

"Move in with me," his palm settled on your cheek, thumb brushing your skin. "I'll help with your classes and therapy. I'll take care of you. You can lean on me until you're strong enough to stand on your own. And even then, when you do — I still wanna be there. I wanna make you happy... Every day."

There it was. His heart, right in the palm of your hand, like an offering. Bleeding through your fingers. Willing to be crushed, if it meant at least he tried.

But you cradled it instead.

Fresh tears, sticking to your eyelashes, and then a rush of warmth in the dark. Your lips pressed into his, tender, and he shut his eyes, tasting a mixture of salt and your sweetness —

"I love you," a shaky exhale, right into his mouth.

It sank into him like sunlight, pulsing, nourishing and bright. And he swallowed it up with a kiss, his teeth clashing with yours.

He shifted to hover above you, finding rest in between your legs, goosebumps erupting when he felt your hand slip under his hoodie, inching it up.

A giggle slipped past his lips, and he disconnected himself from you only to take it off, throwing it aside carelessly before he was kissing you again.

He felt you smile. You went straight to his head like wine. Your taste, your scent — your touch, exploring the muscles of his back, his shoulders.

He was already hard, aching to get lost in you; dizzy on want and love.

Hands groping over clothes, wherever they could reach, hot lips trailing down your neck. He wanted to do so many things to you; kiss every inch of your skin, make you come on his tongue.

But you had the whole night — a whole eternity, really. And the way you squirmed beneath him, arching your back, legs parting, hips raising to feel him, urgent and breathy, wiped his mind clean off anything but the need to be inside you.

Jungkook groaned, his cock twitching, leaking precum into the cotton of his boxers. He remained still, however, letting your hand wander in between your bodies.

His eyes were glued to the way it traveled down his tensing abdomen, pausing to lower his sweats; then dipping inside.

He tried to stay quiet, though his chest was heaving, the sight and the feeling of your hand wrapping around his girth making it twitch again.

He watched you pull your panties aside, wet and ruined, revealing your pretty, glistening folds and the small entrance below.

So fucking small.

It looked almost obscene compared to his cock, long and thick and pulsating in your hand. But you fit him perfectly, like you were made just for him.

The moment you guided him forward, and the wet tip touched the heat of your cunt, he lifted his eyes to yours.

He felt so fucked out, but he was gentle as he pushed inside. The tight, wet muscle welcomed him eagerly, inch by inch, until his hips touched yours and he couldn't breathe.

For a moment, time stood still.

His head fell into the crook of your neck, inked hand squeezing your thigh.

"I missed you so much."

He sounded broken, but he's never felt so whole before.

"I missed you too..."

You clenched around him, prompting his hips to move off their own accord, coaxing the most beautiful sounds out of your body. The wetness, the smack of his skin against yours; the soft whines that fueled the heat boiling deep in his gut.

"Mmm," he moaned, raspy, "doing so well, baby."

He tried to stretch you out slowly, preoccupy himself with biting and sucking at your neck; anything not to focus on how you clenched around him.

But he was doomed, and he understood that the second you moved your hips, fucking him back.

"Oh shit," he gasped, "baby..."

He stifled another moan into your cheek, picking up his pace, so deep inside you he wondered if you could feel him in your tummy. The thought alone made his cock throb, every vein and ridge.

Long, ringed fingers wrapped around your throat, the pressure soft, but definitely there. In return, you grasped his shoulders, nails digging in, and Jungkook knew he wasn't going to last long.

"Good?" He breathed, slamming into you a little faster, stuck on your shining eyes and eager nods. "Yeah?"

The mattress began to protest under the force of his thrusts, but the sound was drowned out by everything else. Jungkook felt your cunt tightening, so warm and so fucking sloppy, his own little personal heaven.

"Almost there? Hm? Gonna make a mess for me?"

Clench.

He groaned, his tummy twisting, the moans spilling past your lips making his head spin.

You merely nodded again, as though you couldn't speak. It made the corner of his lips quirk upwards.

"Yeah?" He tightened his hold on your neck, staking his claim with a coo. "My girl's gonna make a mess on my cock? Pretty angel's gonna cream all over it?"

Your breath hitched, thighs beginning to quiver around him.

"Y-yeah," you uttered, breathless, "yours—"

Jungkook's tongue slid into your mouth, his rutting becoming desperate. He wanted to mark you and brand you and oh god — he was about to see stars.

"Yeah, fuck— mine, my good girl," he stuttered out, "oh, baby, mhmm, I'm gonna come—"

His hips bucked as your pussy spasmed around him, sucking his cock in deeper, restricting his movements. Still, he fucked you through your orgasm, letting himself go with a loud groan. A burst of stars, the tension snapping; and he spilled inside you, white ropes of hot cum that filled you up to the brim.

He slumped against you after a drawn out moment, his body thrumming with bliss. Careful not to crush you, however, he rolled over to the side, his arms automatically enveloping your frame.

With his nose in your neck, he waited for his breathing to even out, lazily rubbing your hands.

"So good," he mumbled, "fuck... Are you okay, baby?"

You hummed, snuggling into him.

"More than okay."

Jungkook smiled, opening his eyes and pressing a kiss into your cheek.

"I'll wash you up in a sec."

"In a bit... Stay with me."

"I'm staying with you forever. Good luck getting rid of me now."

Your laughter sent a pang through his chest. He wanted to keep hearing it.

He brought your hand up to his lips, gently kissed each wounded finger, muttering his I love yous and praises until you both drifted off. Sated and warm under the sheets, tangled up in each other; with a single promise echoing through his head.

Never again would he let you hurt like this.

And whatever was happening outside of these four walls hardly mattered.

This was all that mattered.

This was home.

#hi! 👋#I literally made this blog just to get this fic out of my system lmao 💕#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts fluff

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