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januaryembrs · 17 days

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WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Description: Sunshine rookie gets a boyfriend, and Spencer can’t help but thing he would be so much better for her. But that definitely isn’t the jealousy talking, right?

Length: 8k

Warnings: nothing really, jealousy? talks of sex? embarrassment? Mention briefly of vomit because of allergic reaction.

main masterlist.

author’s note: I want to write for these two until my fingers are two little stubs and even then I’ll learn with my toes. Can be read as a stand alone!

He thought he was going to be sick when he saw her that random Thursday, leaning against her desk, a sweet, bashful smile on her face. Or, more specifically, Spencer thought he was going to need to at least sit down when he saw the man standing next to her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the little daisy earrings Penelope bought her for her birthday almost laughing at his gobsmacked expression.

He liked Agent Taylor Bingley. He respected the fresh faced desk jockey from the third floor that swanned around their bullpen, usually discussing warm up routines with Luke. He was quick on his feet, a pretty decent shot. Never missed a report, never tardy, even offered his parking spot up to Spencer on more than one occasion because he didn’t mind the long walk from the other lot. He flew under the radar, and when he was noticed, it was because he was a particularly kind soul.

Spencer didn’t think he’d ever seen him without those rosy cheeks that made him look almost always sunburnt, or that trademark boyish grin a handsome guy like him had down to a tea. So it really shouldn’t have been such a surprise to see him lingering around his sunshine girl.

Except she wasn’t his, not by a mile. They just spent almost every second of the work day together.

“Check it out, rookie has an admirer,” Tara said, the heels clicking against the floor as she passed the door, where Spencer seemed to have stopped, his eyes narrowing at the happy couple, “Can’t say I blame him. She’s a pretty girl, don’t you think, Spence?”

She didn’t realise she was rubbing salt in a superficial wound, but Spencer felt his jaw feather with annoyance. Because she was beyond a pretty girl, she was honey and all the months of Spring and a hot drink on a rainy day and finishing a good book and the dessert your mom let you have on your tenth birthday. Not that he could admit that. So he just nodded, right as Taylor leaned over to kiss the apple of her cheek.

She shied away, smiling to her lap and playing with her fingertips, not looking up from her little potted plant that sat next to her on her desk, and Spencer knew it was because she floundered when people gave her too much attention.

Like when Garcia had said her blouse and bun combo she’d worn the other day made her look like a sexy teaching assistant, she’d stammered something close to a thankyou and headed to the kitchenette to get herself a glass of water. Or when Rossi had said the bangs she had cut herself two weeks ago looked cute, that his daughter had been desperate to try something similar, she’d spilled her coffee down her front not even two seconds later because she had been so occupied telling the man it was no big deal.

“Morning, Doctor Reid, Doctor Lewis,” Taylor said, his pearly white teeth gleaming with that West Coast, surfer boy tan that made Spencer want to huff. The man was insufferable. Well, correction, he was insufferably nice for someone Spencer was desperate to pick apart with faults the second he’d seen her preening over their sunshine rookie.

“Morning, Agent Bingley,” Tara said civilly, smiling back at the Agent that passed them to head to the elevators. She caught a glimpse of Spencer, and was quick to make herself scarce in the interest of needing to check in with Penelope, because she knew what that stormy look in his eye and the way his lips pressed into a thin line meant, profiler or not.

Spencer didn’t pay much attention to Lewis leaving his side, not that he was trying to be rude, his eyes were zeroed in on the way she fumbled around her desk, looking for imaginary mess to tidy, which included rearranging the pots of glitter pens and highlighters next to her monitor, only to put them back exactly how they were before.

“Agent Bingley, that’s new,” Came a voice over her shoulder, that made her jump in her seat, and her expression was skittish when she swivelled around, Spencer towering over her with calculating eyes. Luke rolled his chair around the divider to lean in on the conversation, having witnessed the whole thing in high definition since her desk was right next to his.

“Oh, Taylor?” She squeaked, and Spencer didn’t need to touch her face to know it had gone hot just by the way she simpered and fiddled with the hem of her knee length skirt, avoiding their gaze, “Yeah, he took me to the aquarium at the weekend and we got lunch. It’s not really serious or anything, I don’t think,”

She seemed unsure, her lips pursed together and a tiny crease between her brow he hated, and it was then Luke’s deep laugh rumbled next to them.

“Does he know that?” Luke asked, and she shot him a look, wide eyed and confused, as he cleared his throat, “I was thinking I could take you out again in that pretty red dress-”

She threw a wad of scrunched up notepaper at him, an embarrassed smile on her face as she shook her head at him, “You have spent way too much time with Penelope, you’re turning into gossiping school children,”

But she seemed happy, like the thought of the conversation she’d had with Agent Bingley made her all the more girlish herself as she giggled lightly, her gaze meeting Spencer’s empty expression. He wished he could hide his jealousy better, perhaps even seem happy for her. She deserved someone soft and saccharine and humane like Bingley, not a rough shell of what once was a brilliant man. He knew he should feel somewhat pleased for her, at least now he had empirical, hard evidence on why he couldn’t have her, but he couldn’t.

“All I’m saying, rookie, is if you got that man bringing you breakfast and sweet talking you after one date, you’ll have him wrapped around your pinky by the time he’s your boyfriend,” Luke chuckled, and Spencer thought he might just burst a vessel with how hard he clenched his jaw at that dreaded b word.

Alvez had no idea just how much he had twisted a knife in Spencer’s gut, which was plunged even further when he saw that sparkle in her eye when she looked up at him.

“Ignore him, he’s a busy body,” She chirped, her teeth peeking from her lips when she hid a grin, “You wanna get coffee later? Taylor brought me tea and I��m dying for the good stuff,”

Spencer nodded with a small smile, because her attitude was infectious, and selfishly thinking that Bingley couldn’t be that perfect for her because she only ever wanted tea when she felt sick, usually towards the start of the month that he guessed was in correlation with her menstrual cycle but would never ask. She wouldn’t want tea for another two weeks, and would likely take an extra shot in her cappuccino today because this was when she felt the most lethargic.

Swivelling back around in her chair to log onto her computer, she remained completely oblivious to his inner turmoil.

For once, Spencer wished he’d been late to work.

–

Two months. They had been dating for two fucking months. As far as Spencer could tell, from Penelope’s need to chatter about their sunshine rookie and her hot, stud muffin of a boyfriend, things had only been official for about five weeks of that time, but it hadn’t stopped Spencer from wanting to swallow glass because that would likely be less inconvenient than seeing the two of them together.

Taylor usually brought her breakfast whenever they would get back from a case, which infuriated Spencer because he always bought her tea. She was a people pleaser, Spencer knew it before he had ever thought of her as anything other than the shiny newbie with too much joy and doe eyes he’d never seen before. But now, knowing her better than anyone else in the office did because she practically shadowed his footsteps, it was blaringly obvious to him that she had either never told him she didn’t like tea first thing in the morning, or he had never bothered to take notice.

Spencer felt an odd puddle of smugness and fury when on more than one occasion he saw her pouring it down the drain, cold after sitting there for hours until it was unbearable and she couldn’t force herself to drink anymore. It was obvious to him, so why wasn’t it obvious to her own boyfriend? Spencer thought bitterly. But then Agent Bingley did leave a sour taste in his mouth these days.

Speaking of which, Spencer felt that pang in his chest the way he always did when the happy couple walked into the office together. Her hand was usually in his, though she seemed to simper under the weight of the team's glances; knowing and teasing as he’d take her to her desk and whip out the to-go pastries that he’d bought them that morning.

“Morning, Spence,” She skipped past his desk, Taylor trailing behind her like a dog, though she seemed not to mind keeping him waiting a moment as she spoke to her friend, “How was Doctor Who?”

He smiled despite his grudge, because she always remembered what he said. He’d told her once that Thursdays were his evening to watch the show, and every time Friday morning rolled around, she’d bound up to lean over his computer and ask.

“It was okay, I’m excited to see what they do with a Female Doctor, even if I’ll miss Capaldi,” He replied earnestly, and her eyes filled with glee.

“Did they give her a new one of the doo-hickies they have?” She asked, his chest butterflying with an aching sort of affection because she seemed to remember everything he ever told her.

“Sonic Screwdriver?” She nodded her head, even though Spencer knew she didn’t quite understand the show entirely, “Yeah, I prefer Sarah Jane’s Sonic Lipstick however,”

“I wish I had one of those, I could reapply and save the world, how cool would that be?” She said, and they laughed together a little, before Taylor popped his head over Spencer’s computer with that dentist white beam and his excitable eyes, bluer than any sea rolling onto shore.

“Morning, Doctor Reid,” Agent Bingley said, and the smile withered from Spencer’s face, morphing into a civil nod, his expression unreadable.

“Morning, Agent,” He said, his eyes tracking back to his screen as he suddenly found Emily’s group email about staff room fridge etiquette invigorating.

Taylor must have taken it as a sign the Doctor Reid was busy and finally let him have a minutes peace, that is until she took a seat at her desk and he leaned next to her, handing her a warm bagel.

Spencer heard them chatting for about ten minutes, of which he was trying anything to tune them out, including roping Luke into their own conversation. It wasn’t until there was a lapse in the chatter that Spencer’s ears pricked up, and he heard her stand up from her desk, eyes wide as she spat a mouthful out into a tissue.

“Does this have coconut in it?” She asked somewhat fearfully, Spencer’s head whipping around to her little corner of the bullpen. Her little self help stickers dotted around her desktop stared back at him, her reminder to ‘drink water’ almost horribly ironic the second he’d heard her question.

His stomach dropped when Taylor frowned, “Yeah, it’s coconut and raspberry, is-is that not okay?”

Spencer was quick to stand up out of his own seat, rifling through his satchel to dig out his water bottle, making it to her desk in just two long paces and handing it to her without another word as she looked up at him worriedly.

“If you need to puke, it’ll probably be for the best so that you can get the traces out of your stomach. You can’t have the steroids before you hurl or it won’t work,” He soothed, and she nodded, sipping on his water with shaky hands, and Spencer was quick to catch the way her skin had a slight sheen to it that hadn’t been there before. He put a hand on her shoulder, trying to gage if she was well enough to make it to the bathroom on her own or if he would need to drive her to the ER. Either way her expression worried him.

“I-I thought it was white chocolate,” She peeped, looking extremely sorry for herself as she dumped the chewed up brownie in her bin, and Taylor almost appeared at her side, looking entirely lost as he stroked a hand down her hair.

“Talk to me, what’s wrong?” He asked, seafoam hues trailing down her sweating face in terror.

“She’s allergic to coconut,” Spencer cut in, his tone a little harsher than needed, and her boyfriend’s expression wilted like a kicked puppy.

“Shit! You never mentioned, I’m so- I’m so sorry, honey,” Taylor went pale, and she didn’t look much better as she pushed past the two of them, heading for the bathroom, Spencer a single pace behind her.

“I got her, don’t worry,” He called over his shoulder to Agent Bingley standing there like a gaping fish, his hand running through his blonde sweep as he watched her all but running out of the office, Spencer’s long legs keeping up with her.

“Is your skin getting prickly yet?” Spencer asked. Swouldn't go into anaphylaxis, at least not as far as they knew, but the large hives that would appear on her chest and neck and the vomiting was not ideal. She kept a tray of steroids in her desk incase an accidental cross contamination happened (and because Spencer had forced her to have some on hand), but seeing her panicked eyes as she tasted the chalky fruit had made him fawn over her like she was marked for the plague.

“Neck is getting itchy,” She replied, tugging at her collar and pushing the door to the unisex bathrooms open, heading for the nearest stall, “You don’t have to stay for this bit, it’s not-”

He cut her off by sweeping her hair into a ponytail, as if to tell her to stop worrying about him, and he stroked a hand over her arm to let her know he was right there, because he knew she really hated anything gory and gross like that.

He hushed her when she’d try to apologise, hand her his bottle of water in between moments where her whole body seized.

And for a minute, she thought that Spencer might be the only person who she’d ever let see her like this. Not Luke, or Garcia and certainly not Taylor.

The thought of it kept her quiet for the rest of the morning.

They seemed to move past the whole debacle quickly. Luke said Taylor had taken her to a fancy restaurant uptown to apologise, making a huge point to avoid the coconut banoffee pudding like it was an explosive.

“You guys are so cute, you’re like Jane and he’s literally your Bingley. I swear your kids are going to be sweet enough I could drizzle them right next to ice cream,” Penelope said over the SUV console speaker, Spencer in the driving seat and her in the passenger, flicking through her files as they approached the victim’s house.

The rookie blanched, “Woah, woah, kids?” She protested, and even Spencer felt himself nearly swerve the minute the bubbly IT geek said it. She looked shaken, awkwardly chuckling and reaching to tuck hair behind her ear, “Slow down, Garcia, we’ve not even- you know what, I think we’re talking about the wrong thing here-“

“You’ve not even what?” Penelope burst out, her need for the lastest gossip overwhelming the reading of the room. She swallowed heavily, shifting in her seat to face out of the window, her knees touching the door with a thud, “Have you guys not had sex yet?”

“Penelope!” The woman screeched, her face hot and gobsmacked that she’d even said it out loud.

But it was telling enough, and Spencer’s face whirled over the console to her, guilt written on her features.

“I just assumed you guys had done it seeing as both of you are the hottest couple I know, I mean I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you if I was a guy-“ Penelope tried to save herself in the only way she knew how, by digging herself a deeper hole.

Spencer’s hand shot out for the centre screen, “We’re losing you, Garcia, you’re breaking up, bye,” He pressed the end call button, and he didn’t need to look at the girl’s face to know she was the epitome of mortified.

Spencer opened his mouth to say something, the awkward silence of the car killing him as much as he knew it was her, but he thought better of it and clamped his mouth shut. It took him a minute before he opened his mouth to speak again, if not to ask her if she wanted to stop at a drive thru for breakfast, but she beat him to it.

“I was going to say we’ve not even said I love you yet,” She murmured, keeping her body entirely swivelled away from him, her arms crossed over her chest in an attempt to make herself smaller, as if she could just smush herself into the seat so he wouldn’t say anything. She cleared her throat, scratching her wrist nervously, “But I guess that’s also true too,”

“Why not?” Her eyes snapped onto Spencer when he braved those two words, and he sensed he’d overstepped some sort of boundary before he realised it sounded like he’d been speaking about the latter, “Why haven’t you said it?” He clarified.

She went quiet, her shoulders shrugging being the only sign that she’d heard him, gaze trailing back out her window.

“He’s not said it yet either, and I don’t think I want him to. Not yet at least,” Her voice was soft, heavy as if every single one of them was coming from her heart, “Love is such a big emotion I think if he did say it, I wouldn’t know how to respond. Like, if I’m going to say it back to someone, I want to be sure I feel it otherwise it’s like I’m betraying everyone else’s version of love, you know?”

He thought she might just be an angel bottled up and thrown into his life, and he sometimes wished he could take a look inside that head of hers because how she had protected her beautiful look on the world after seeing so much hurt staggered him. He had become cruel and cold and heavy where she looked at the lecherous shithole heading for disaster they called Earth and saw right to its soul, gave it a hug, told it she would care even when no one else would.

He tore his eyes from the road, and took in the outline of her face, mindlessly watching the pedestrians on their daily commute to grab lunch, a dog peeing against a lamp post, a motorcyclist bobbing and weaving in between the midday traffic, her doe eyes never missing a trick.

Forcing his gaping expression back on the road, because he might just swerve and hit the damn rider off his bike if he let himself get lost in his little dreamscape that consisted of nothing but her and her face and her thoughts and her words, he cleared his throat, not sure how to add to the poetic, rose tint she seemed to see the world in.

“That’s good, that you’re taking things at your own pace, atleast,” He said, not particularly profound but at least it was something, “You shouldn’t do things just because someone else wants you to, even if you think it would make them happy,”

“But I like making people happy,” She countered, her expression troubled as she looked over at him with a quirked brow, “I like making you happy especially,”

“What makes you think I’m not happy?” Spencer asked, his mouth drying up, his stomach flipping in cartwheels when she giggled to herself like for once she was the smart one snd he was the one who needed teaching.

“It took you three and a half weeks to crack a smile when we first started working together,” His jaw clenched, because he was the one who counted the statistics. Perhaps he was rubbing off on her. “Honestly, I thought you hated me. I thought a seasoned agent like yourself probably would get frustrated teaching the dumb newbie the ABC’s, even ones that admire him. But then I thought, instead of getting so butt hurt about it all, I could just give you a reason to smile and you’d see that I’m not just a useless rookie learning to roll over for treats.”

Spencer’s throat bobbed. He’d hate himself forever for being so cruel to her those first few weeks, the clipped tones when she’d add something in a particularly chirpy voice, the way he would forget his manners sometimes when she’d bring him a coffee, because his head had been so deep in survival mode that being nice didn’t matter. Being nice had got him nowhere in Mexico, in fact it had shown his soft underbelly and drawn a target on it.

“I never hated you,” His voice croaked out, weak and pathetic, and it's times like that he remembered ten years ago talking to her would have made him blush, pop a boner, and lose half his IQ all in one go. Coughing, his knuckles turned white at the wheel, and he avoids her gaze that feels like a pitfall trap, “It’s difficult to go back to how you used to be when you’ve got a thousand eyes on your back waiting for you to lower your guard,”

“I know, I know that now, I jus-” She floundered, worried she’d touched a nerve, but he stopped her by leaning over the console and putting a gentle hand on her kneecap.

“Relax, I know I wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around,” Spencer said, his timbre quiet but honest, “You were one of the few things I looked forward to, if I’m honest.”

“Really?” She said, agog, like she was waiting for him to turn around and say it had been a joke, “You didn’t think I’m too loud or, like, too much?”

“How can there be too much of you? If your body wasn’t in correct proportion, your organs wouldn't function-”

“Spencer,” She said, though he knew she was smiling even without having to look, “You know that’s not what I meant,”

“I know,” He replied, a smug little smile quirking on his own lips because he loved making her happy too, “No, I could never find you too much.”

She simpered under his words, his hand a stoked flame on her skin as she brought her fingers over the top of them to squeeze them together, before she changed the subject because she knew her cheeks might just explode if they heated anymore.

–

They were back from a long case, one that had made everyone tired and grumpy, especially because they needed to swing by the office for an hour of admin even Emily couldn’t wriggle them out of.

And ofcourse, as he always was when Spencer was feeling like he was already about to strangle someone out of annoyance, Agent Bingley was right there when they entered the lobby.

She hadn’t slept well on the jet, despite Spence loaning her his jumper to use as a pillow, and she was in desperate need of coffee, the kind that Spencer and Penelope forced her to try instead of the cold caramel thing she liked. She’d even go for one of Luke’s zero sugar, zero milk atrocities right now.

“Hey guys, how was the flight?” Taylor jumped in to ask, and everyone gave some sort of variation of a groan because that was exactly how it had felt. His attention turned to her, as she pulled up the rear with Spencer attached her her hip because she had been practically sleepwalking the entire way there, “Hi honey,”

“Taylor, hi,” She said, her eyes perking up when he held out a hot take away cup for her, “You really didn’t have to,”

“Nonsense, herbal tea is supposed to alleviate headaches and help get you to sleep,” He replied, his other hand behind his back quickly whipping out to produce a bunch of flowers in front of her face.

She barely had time to flash him a grin to hide the disappointment that it was nowhere near as caffeinated as she’d like, nor that she didn’t even liked herbal tea, before a bunch of lilies were thrust her way.

“Lillies,” She said, her hand covering her chest at the touching sentiment, “Taylor, you shouldn’t have,”

“I know they’re your favourites,” The blonde replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and effectively putting a wall between her and Spencer, whether he meant to or not. Her expression wavered, and Spencer's eyes went straight to her, waiting for her to correct him. Because they weren’t her favourites, not even in her top five. Hyacinths were. Or Foxglove. Or Delphiniums. Not Lillies.

She nodded wordlessly, and the three of them headed for the lift, where the rest of the team held the door for them, her expression tiptoeing between guilty and smiling, Taylor’s almost ecstatic to see her after her long few days away, and Spencer’s entirely pissed off that the sun kissed jerk couldn’t see every sign blaring in his face.

“I might have to cut off the stamen when Ace comes over,” She queried, her eyes roving over the beautiful white petals opening towards her like a book.

“Ace? Who’s Ace?” He said, and Spencer and JJ exchanged a glance, because the whole elevator was now privy to their conversation as David pressed the six button. Taylor reached forward to push the three for himself.

“The dog I foster sometimes, the one I told you about. He helps me when I need to talk through some things. He’s a very good listener,,” She said with a dopey smile on her face, her eyes casting over her boyfriends face with a willing expression, because she knew for a fact she’d told him at lengths about the bouncy Spaniel that adored her, “He comes over for playdates, but the pollen inside lilies are poisonous to dogs,”

Taylor scrunched his nose up, “Ugh, I hate dogs, they’re so slobbery and the always seem to smell awful,” He commented, her face dropping the slightest in a way that made Spencer’s hand curl into a fist, because how dare Agent Bingley take that away from her, “I thought you were a cat person?”

“I like them both equally, but Ace is sweet. He curls up on my legs after we’ve gone for a walk,” Taylor still didn’t seem convinced, and she felt stupid for even mentioning it, well aware that the rest of her team were listening in on her childish description of the old dog that wanted nothing but love.

“Why do you need a dog to talk anyway, babe? You have me,” Taylor said, in a way that was supposed to sound comforting but made Spencer want to shake him and tell him to listen to a damn word she was saying. Her eyes dimmed, and she looked at the lilies again, feeling entirely ungrateful for wishing they were something else, and the elevator doors opened onto the third floor. Taylor kissed her cheek and waltzed out of the lift with a quick goodbye to her team that was returned in murmurs. Turning to look at her, his body already in the anteroom of his own floor, he smiled sweetly at her, “I love you,”

JJ and Emily whipped their heads to her face, expecting to see some kind of puppy love blossom there, only to find wide-eyed panic, her smile slowly slipping. Rossi cleared his throat when she said nothing, the air turning stale as the team waited for her response, Taylor looking at her expectantly, and she wished the ground would open up then and there to swallow her whole, because that would probably be better than whatever this was.

Tara nudged her shoulder, waking her out of her daze, Luke scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, and it was then after a beat more of silence that Taylor opened his mouth again, “Babe, did you hear what I-”

She leaned forward to press the close door button, her doe hues in full flight mode, her fingers only picking up the pace when her boyfriend took a step closer towards the elevator, and Emily brought a hand over her mouth in muffled laughter when the doors slammed shut in front of him, their sunshine rookie entirely spooked and needing a quick exit.

The tiny metal box went silent, Spencer watching her face meld from alarm to horror, to sheer embarrassment.

“I mean, I’ll give it to you kid, that’s one way to do it,” Rossi said, patting her on the back and she shoved her face in her hands, the stems of the dove white flowers brushing against her cheek roughly.

“Please tell me that didn’t just happen,” She groaned through her fingers, JJ chuckling as the doors to their own floor opened up.

“Oh honey,” She said, rubbing the girl’s back gently, leading her out onto the BAU carpet that felt harsher against the souls of her shoes than it ever had before, “I think what you need is a coffee and a long talk with someone who isn’t a dog,”

Spencer watched her shuffle to slump down behind her desk, her expression still rattled and lost, JJ’s eyes flicking to him every now and then in a way that urged him to be the one to do just that because it was obvious by now who she talked the most openly to in the office.

But by the time he’d braved walking over to her desk, she’d already rushed through her report, excusing herself home for the day, and he knew her well enough to know she needed some breathing room before he could approach the subject, otherwise she would shut the doors on him too.

He hated the spiteful part of him that revelled in Taylor’s expression when that metal screen had slammed in his face.

—

It was three days later, and she had enforced a strict ban on talking about that day in the office. For once she didn’t look like she was going to break her resolve either, since every time someone tried to weasel information of her she would either pretend she hadn’t heard, or would excuse herself to make her fifth coffee of the day, or even had thrown her paperwork on the floor when Luke had pushed her for an answer just for an excuse to avoid the topic.

In fact, Spencer himself had been tempted to get her alone because he knew she would crack without much pressure from him, though the thought of using her trusting nature against her seemed wicked, and so he stopped himself and settled for curiosity.

It wasn’t until they were away on a case and they were shoved in a room together that the subject of Taylor was even brought up, and even then it was entirely out of his control.

“I’ll take the couch,” Spencer said, his eyes falling on the double bed in the centre of the room, striding over the other side of the room to throw his to go bag down on the two seater sofa that would wreck his back.

“Don’t be silly, we can just share the bed.” She said, as if it was the most obvious solution, which it was, “I sleep talk a little, but just give me a shove and I’ll shut up,”

Spencer paused, watching her fumbling around her bag for her toothbrush and paste.

“Won’t your boyfriend mind?” He asked, his palms clammy because he worried for a moment it was wrong to bring it up, and his chest butterflied when she froze, “Sorry, I know you didn’t want to talk about it, I just thought I wouldn’t like my girlfriend sharing a bed-”

“We broke up,” She said, taking pulling a large pink shirt out her bag and some strawberry printed shorts, her toiletries stuffed in her pockets, “So don’t worry about any of that stuff, we can share,”

And she waltzed into the bathroom without any more explanation, the lock clicking behind her and leaving Spencer alone with his thoughts.

They had broken up? Was it because of what happened in the elevator? Was it because of what Penelope said in the car? Was she the one to break up with him or the other way around?

Spencer felt like a gossip, even though his thoughts had gone no further than his cranium, and by the time she emerged from the bathroom, fresh faced and in her pyjamas, he had already changed himself, tucked himself under the cover in the hope she understood they didn’t need to talk about it if she didn’t want to.

She smiled at him, tucking her dirty clothes back in her bag and heading for the bed, slipping under the plush duvet with a soft ooft.

“Light on or off?” She asked, her finger hovering over the switch beside their bed.

“On, if that’s okay?” He replied and she nodded wordlessly, shuffling down under the covers, pulling them up to just below her armpits. Crossing her arms over her stomach like she was snow white waiting to fall into a poison-laced slumber, her eyes bore holes into the ceiling, and his thoughts banged loudly against his temple. The silence of the room seemed to only turn their avoidance tactics into a cacophony they couldn’t ignore.

“If you’re going to ask questions, I might as well tell you before we get back to Quantico.” She said finally, her sigh heavy and exhausted and she looked over at him, his brunette locks splaying over the pillow in waves, his facial hair scratching against the sheet when he flicked his head over to her too.

Hazel had never been such a pretty colour than when they sat in silence for a moment, staring at one another, almost daring the other to speak first. He swallowed, his mouth watering at how she looked, tucked under the sheets, her body lax and soft under her pyjamas, her hands skimming over her stomach nervously.

“Is it because of the day in the elevator?” Spencer asked after a few minutes, breaths suddenly becoming difficult to regulate naturally unless he forced them to be, because he was so close to her under the covers, his entire body too long and gangly for just a twin bed, he could smell her shampoo and conditioning combo in full force. Her spearmint tongue rolled words around her mouth for a minute, dropping down to his Star Wars shirt he felt childish for wearing the minute he saw her looking at it.

“Kind of, he just wanted us to move so fast, it just kinda made me nervous, but I always thought being nervous was supposed to be good, you know?” She sighed, forgetting to breathe in between her splurge of words that had been building up inside her for weeks, “Like you said the feeling of excitement and fear are almost identical so I think I just convinced myself I was being dumb and I was being a bad person for not just giving him what he wanted. I’m supposed to love him, right? Being his girlfriend and all that,”

He had said that; because scientifically that was exactly correct. The hormones released during love and during fear were, down to their core, chemical matches, and it felt funny she’d remembered that fact considering she made him feel somewhere in between too. He knew she was special, just as much as he knew the idea of tainting her with his core terrified him. Like he secreted some kind of radiation that would ruin her if she got too close for too long. But he couldn’t help it. How do you stop yourself from wanting something good? It was just science. A Pavlovian response.

“You’re not supposed to do anything. There’s no timeline for how you feel, and you can’t force yourself to feel something any quicker or stronger than you do,” He said, shaking his head when she bit her lip, her fingertips playing with one another ontop of the sheets.

“He wanted to know when I was ready to have…” She swallowed, her cheeks heating, “Intimacy with him. A-and it’s not like I’ve not done it before, I had a boyfriend in high school, but I just felt like with him…”

“He didn’t pressure you, did he?” Spencer asked, his brows furrowing as he felt a surge of annoyance flash through his blood that she had wound herself up so much just because of some guy who couldn’t keep it in his pants for a few months.

Her eyes widened, taking in the storm brewing in that beautiful woodland gaze of his, and she shook her head quickly, “No, no, nothing like that. This was all on me, it was all just me being dumb,”

“You’re not being dumb just because some guy didn’t like the answer you gave,” He corrected, exhaling deeply and letting his frown drop, because he knew she hated when he did that, “Why didn’t you want to, if you don’t mind me asking?”

She shrugged, looking back up at the dusty lamp shade hanging from the ceiling, the cobwebs that smattered around the wooden panels.

“I don’t know, I just kind of never saw the two of us.. becoming intimate, you know?” She said, her tone sheepish like she was in confession and he was a priest sat on the other side of the divide. He looked over at her, scanning the outline of her face, but she seemed adamant on avoiding his gaze, because she knew she would spill everything the minute she looked at him. With Spencer, there were no secrets, and that was entirely the problem.

Spencer’s lips pursed, thinking of exactly the right thing to say to such a delicate soul when she was laying herself hypothetically bare for him.

“You don’t have to be intimate in a relationship if you don’t want to. No one who loves you should ever make you feel like there’s an expectation or like you owe them that,” Spencer explained softly, edging his pinky finger out the tiniest bit to catch the back of her hand that now lay flat on the bed, her head turning up to meet his round forest hues that looked down at her with more softness than he’d felt in a long time.

He wished he could stay here with her forever. In the quiet of this room, they were just the two of them, not Doctor Reid and the Special Agent he had a huge hopeless crush on that was years his junior and thought she could fix everything wrong with the world.

“I know,” She sighs, and his heart caught in his throat when her pinky raises up to meet his own, the tips of their fingers brushing against one another like they were meeting each other for a slow dance. He had touched her many times before, but there was something illicit about this time. Like their skin had become oppositely charged and was pulling the other one in with an electric crackle, “He never pressured me but I felt like I could have tried harder to want it.”

“If you don’t want it, you don’t ever have to have it. A lot of people reach your age when your frontal cortex is developed and realise they might be asexual, it’s not a bad thing-” He tried reassuring her, but she was quick to shake her head again, bashfully ripping her eyes away from him to look at their caressing fingertips.

“No, no. It’s not that I never want to be intimate ever, I just never really felt comfortable around him enough to let myself want it. Like I couldn’t just be me with him, I was just being what he wanted me to be. Like he never really knew the real me,” She explained, and she rolled over onto her side to face him, her other finger coming up to absentmindedly trace over the prominent vein that ran up his arm, stopping just below where his old needle scars were at the crook of his elbow. If she saw them, she didn’t say a word, but Spencer felt like she was trailing a flame over his skin. He thought if she took his manhood in her hand she’d probably get the exact same response from him, because with every invisible swirl and line she drew over his skin, he felt a heat ripping through his loins. “Does that make sense? Like I didn’t think he would like the ikky parts of me so I ended up putting on a charade,”

“Y-yeah,” He replied, and his stammer made her look up, eyes wide and innocent as she watched him all but falling apart under a single fingertip. God he was pathetic. Mid thirties and nearly finishing in his boxers over a pretty girl touching his arm. Only it wasn’t just a pretty girl. It was her. His sunshine girl. “But I don’t think you have any ikky parts, to be honest,”

Her eyes deepened into pools of awe, and he watched her trail a glance down his nose to his mouth vulnerably.

“Spencer, you’re being too kind,” She whispered, and he swore his chest lurched.

He cleared his throat, and moved to roll over towards her too, hoping to disperse some of the energy that was clogging between them, only for it to become dialled to a hundred, trapping them in a tiny box where they were looking at one another, laying on the bed they were being forced to share and almost holding hands, because committing to full thing was scary like they were ten years old in a playground.

“Of course that makes sense. It’s much healthier to form intimate relationships with people we trust and feel safe with than rushing into things,” Spencer tried to breeze past the tension, but her breath was fanning over his face, almost tripping him over his words, because she was still looking at him like he knew all the answers. Because he usually did. Except for this time. This time, he felt like he was walking blind towards his point, “Not that one night stands should be shamed or anything, but it’s much better to engage in sexual intercourse with someone when it feels right,”

She breathed out deeply, licking her lips, and her finger movements stopped.

“So it’s just a when you know, you know, kind of thing?” She asked, her brows pulling together in a saddened frown, “I’m not, like, broken or anything?”

He sat up on his elbow, grabbing her wrist tight enough she would listen the minute he said it to her, because he never wanted to hear her say that again, “There is nothing wrong with you, you hear me?” She looked up at him with glassy eyes, wide and shocked to see him so desperately insistent over her, “You feeling secure is more important than any guy out there, no matter how nice they are, got it?”

She nodded after a beat, because she thought her brain might have stopped working with the way he was leaned over her, looking down at her with a glimmer of the harshness he’d been drowning in when she first met him. These days he seemed to have mellowed out the tiniest bit, except the straightforward tone he held with everyone else who wasn’t her, or the general heavy handedness he didn’t seem to realise he was capable of. Like in the way his warm, rough hands gripped the skin of her wrist, his expression somewhat frustrated though not with her as he looked down at where she was half beneath him.

“Spence?” She whispered into the electricity between them, her eyes trailing over his nose again and ghosting over his half attempt at facial hair. They were just whisps, but they suited him embarrassingly well. He didn’t reply, just stared at her to wait for her response, “I feel safe with you, you know that?”

He swore his heart was thumping out of his chest. She looked divine under his hand, sweet like a pudding begging him to taste, and he couldn’t help it when his thumb trailed up the side of her jaw, brushing just under her bottom lip, and she seemed to press herself further into his touch, a cat being scratched behind velvet ears.

“You’d tell me if you ever wanted me to stop, wouldn’t you?” He murmured, gooseflesh crawling up his arm when she nodded, her eyes boring holes into his soul when she looked up at him like that.

“Always,” She answered honestly, blinking at him once, twice, before she took a deep breath for courage, “But what if I never wanted you to stop?”

Spencer nearly moaned when he crashed their lips together, and he heard her squeak in delight beneath him, his large hand cupping her jaw, weaving into her hair, tugging her closer. She felt like her was consuming her whole, and she had no qualms about it, not when she reached a hand up to his shoulder and tugged him even more on top of her, the weight of him on her chest comforting and achingly right.

He pulled away to breathe for a moment, but she was chasing his lips, her touch maddening and he swore his brain switched off when she ran a hand up his spine, slipping under his shirt and tracing over every one of his vertebrae making him shiver. Her lips were stronger than any craving he had ever felt, the instant dopamine rush embarrassing for a man of his age, so hardened by the world reduced to putty, ready to beg for more because now he’d had a taste of her ambrosia, he didn’t think he could ever think straight again. A man sent crazy by forbidden wine.

He pushed her hair away from her face, using his long fingers to wrap around the back of her head and pull her impossibly closer to him, his other arm skirting down to her clothed waist and pressing their bodies together. She whined in his mouth, and Spencer thought he could finally die happy.

He pulled away to let her catch a gasp, her fingers carding through his long, brown curls, scratching against his scalp in a way that drew a low growl from his throat. He needed more, needed her, more than the air he gulped down ravenously and he found himself kissing at her soft neck, her head tipped back in bliss as he kissed every inch he could.

“The reason I didn’t want it with Taylor,” She choked between manic breaths, her hands holding onto him so tight he knew she didn’t have any intention of asking him to stop, “Was because it didn’t feel like this,”

Spencer wove their fingers together, pushing her hand above her head as the other came up to tilt her face towards him, looking into her bleary eyes for a second, their noses ghosting past one another, her mint breath delicious on his lips.

“It never feels like this, baby,” He whispered, their foreheads pressing together before he gave into her again and pressed his lips against hers so hard she whimpered into his mouth.

And she believed him.

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #matthew grey gubler x reader

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fatecantstopme · 6 months

Text

Spell Bound

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: It's sex pollen...I couldn't help myself.

Warnings: cursing, use of pet names. An excessive amount of heavy SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), rough sex, oral (F receiving), multiple cream pies

"I freaking hate witches," Dean mumbled as he picked the lock on the apartment door.

You chuckled softly, very used to hearing him grumble every time you were hunting a witch.

He slowly walked into the apartment and you followed in after him.

"So what exactly are we looking for?" you asked quietly.

"Big scary magic book. Sam said it's probably on or near some kind of altar."

"Big scary magic book," you muttered under your breath. "Makes perfect sense."

You sighed as you walked into the living room and noticed several bookcases lined with large books. "You've gotta be kidding me."

Dean shot you a weary smile. "Guess it might take a little longer than I thought."

"You think?"

You took one side of the room and Dean took the other. Sam had described the look of the book to the both of you, but there was really no way to be 100% certain if you found it.

About 15 minutes into your perusal, you spotted a large leather-bound book tucked under what appeared to be an altar cloth. You slowly removed the cloth, wary of what you might uncover. The book was almost exactly as Sam had described, so you had a feeling it was the right one.

"I think I found it," you said aloud.

At almost the same exact moment, a crash sounded from behind you and Dean let out a string of curses.

You spun around to see the hunter brushing off some sort of florescent pink dust from his face. "What the hell did you do?"

"I was moving some of the books and this box fell out and some powder just kinda...sprayed my face."

"Seriously?"

He looked sheepish. "I didn't even see it."

You sighed. "Great. God only knows what the hell that was."

He looked at the box carefully, but there was nothing written on it to identify the powdery substance he had inhaled. He gave you another sheepish look and shrugged. "Maybe it's not harmful."

You shot him a stony look. "Dean...it's a witch. It's not gonna be fairy dust."

He sighed, knowing you were right. He started shifting his shoulders a bit as if he was uncomfortable.

"Let's get out of here. I'll call Sam on the way back to the motel and see if he has any idea what it could be."

Dean nodded and followed you out the door. By the time you got outside the building and to the car, he was twitching like an addict in need of a fix.

"Dean?" you asked tentatively.

"My skin feels like it's on fire and--and it's like--itchy. And there's a weird feeling inside that I can't describe, but it doesn't feel nice."

"Okay...how 'bout I drive?"

He looked up at you with concerned eyes, but he handed you the keys and got into the passenger seat. You knew he must really be feeling terrible if he was letting you drive Baby.

You started the car up and pulled out of the parking spot while simultaneously calling Sam on your cell. He answered on the third ring.

"Dean got some sort of witchy powder on his face and now he's...itchy?" you said quickly in lieu of a greeting.

Sam sighed. "What are his symptoms?"

You put the phone on speaker. "Dean, what are your symptoms?"

Dean couldn't look at you and when he spoke, his voice was barely above a growl. "I feel like crawling out of my own skin, everything aches, and I'm having a hard time breathing right. Oh and I can literally smell (Y/N)'s skin, which is totally not normal!"

"You can smell my skin?"

He grumbled under his breath. "I can smell your skin and your shampoo and your goddamn body wash, and I want--fuck. What the hell is wrong with me, Sam?"

"Uh, I honestly don't know. Let me call Bobby and see if he has any ideas."

You set the phone down on the seat beside you. "Maybe you're turning into some kind of animal?"

"What?"

"Well, I mean...you can smell me...which is weird and kind of--animalistic."

"I don't think that's it," he said harshly. "My body is aching in a way I can't even begin to describe to you, but I don't think I'm morphing into anything."

You eyed him carefully, worry etched into your face. He was your closest friend and trusted hunting partner, and you hated seeing him like this. Witches scared the shit out of you...you knew what they were capable of.

"Maybe drive a little faster," he hissed.

You pressed harder on the gas and the Impala shot down the road. When your phone rang, you answered it immediately.

"So I think I might know what it is, but I have something I need to ask Dean first," Sam said.

"Okay." You looked at Dean. "Can you hold the phone? Sam wants to ask you something."

Dean took the phone from your hand, hissing as his skin made contact with yours. "What?" he grumbled.

"This is gonna be awkward, but I need to know, okay? Do you feel--umm--aroused at all?"

Dean was silent for a moment as he let his brother's question sink in. Ohhh fuuuuck, he thought to himself. He glanced down at his jeans and noticed the bulge straining against them. With the intense pain he was experiencing, he hadn't really noticed. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled. "Yeah."

"Okay, well the good news is, I know what it is. It's called sex pollen."

"It's called what?"

"Sex pollen. The name doesn't really matter, but you have all the symptoms. They're only going to get worse until--well until you die."

"Die? Is there a cure?"

You looked over at Dean in terror, your foot pressing down even further on the pedal. Dean's hand was shaking slightly as he put the phone on speaker so you could hear.

"You have to--uhh--well--shit. You have to umm...fuck it out."

"I have to what?"

"Dude, I know, okay? But you don't have a choice. If you don't you'll die a rather painful death."

"Son of a bitch," Dean said again. "Can I, umm, take care of it myself?"

"According to what Bobby read, the only option is actual intercourse with another person."

"How long do I have?"

You were acutely aware of Dean's close proximity to you, and now you understood the nature of his pain. Your own breathing was more labored, but you desperately tried to maintain control of yourself. Don't make it weird, (Y/N), you thought to yourself.

"30 minutes from the time of contact until...until death," Sam answered.

"30 minutes?" you gasped. You started doing the math in your head as Dean continued talking to his brother. "We have maybe 10 more minutes until we get back to the motel and that leaves about 10 until..."

Dean looked over at you, his normally green eyes dark with need. "I'm so fucked," he muttered.

"That doesn't really leave us time to find someone for you to--you know," you said worriedly.

"Shit."

"Might wanna make it fast," Sam said.

"Obviously," Dean snapped. "How long will it take to...get out of my system?"

"That depends," Sam began. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."

"Another story?"

"It could take a lot longer."

"Great," you mumbled.

"Sam, don't be there when we get there," Dean growled at his brother before hanging up the phone.

"Dean?" you questioned softly.

"Just drive, (Y/N)."

You continued driving, but your focus was most definitely not on the road. You could hear the heavy breathing and the soft pained sounds coming from the man beside you and it made it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else. It certainly didn't help that you had wanted him for years and seeing him like this was making you feel things you absolutely shouldn't be feeling.

Dean flirted with you regularly, but he flirted with almost every person he came into contact with. It's just a part of his personality, so you never read into it. While Dean quite obviously adored you (and you him), you were not his type. You were a good fighter, sure, but where you really excelled was research. You were brilliant--almost as knowledgable as Bobby, though you still had plenty to learn. You were also significantly more--voluptuous than the women Dean gravitated to. Soft, chubby, more to love--whatever you wanna call it. As such, you'd never made any sort of move to announce your feelings for him. You didn't want to face his rejection.

"Sweetheart, if you don't speed up, I'm liable to die before we make it there," Dean hissed.

You shot him a look. "We're less than two minutes away, so don't die on me yet, Winchester."

He exhaled sharply and nodded. "I'm not gonna make it either way, (Y/N). Like you said, we don't have enough time to find a, uh--partner."

You took a deep breath. "I can't let you die."

He looked over at you and you felt his gaze boring right into your soul. "I can't do that to you."

"I really don't see how we have much of a choice here."

You pulled into the motel parking lot before he could respond.

"Let's go," you said quickly as you got out of the car and made your way to your room.

Dean was right behind you, so close you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. As soon as the door was unlocked, Dean was pushing you through it and locking it behind you.

"Shit," he muttered. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"It's okay, Dean," you said softly. "I'm not afraid."

His eyes widened and he grabbed your chin. "You should be...I'm going to lose control."

"It's alright...use me."

He let out a low growl and squeezed your chin tighter. "I--I won't be able to make this good for you."

You pressed yourself against his body, feeling the hard ridges against you. "It's not about me. You need this."

That was all it took for Dean to let go. His lips attacked yours with a hunger you were not expecting despite the intensity of the situation. He was not at all gentle as he tore your clothes from your body, ripping his own off with equal force.

He tossed you down on the bed with shocking ease. He had absolutely no difficulty manhandling you. You weren't sure if it was the sex pollen or just him.

His lips and hands were everywhere, touching every inch of your soft skin he could possibly reach. He needed to be inside of you so badly it was almost impossible to breathe. His skin burned with each touch and his instincts screamed at him to just break you.

He moves his way down your body and you're surprised as he stops just above your core. "Dean, what are you doing?" You knew he needed a release--and soon--or he wasn't gonna make it.

A voice in the back of his mind kept reminding him this was (Y/N), his (Y/N). Even in his current state, he wanted to avoid hurting you if he could. "Need to get you ready," he grunted.

The words were barely out of his mouth before he was devouring your pussy. The sounds he made were incredible, the feeling almost electrifying. He slid two fingers in and moved them in a scissoring motion to help loosen you up.

He was only down there for a 30 seconds before he came up and locked eyes with you. "I can't hold off anymore."

You nodded. "Just let go. I'll be okay."

He knew the moment he slid inside you, he'd be a goner. Whatever tiny amount of self control he'd managed to hang onto would disappear in an instant. But he could also feel the roaring agony inside him and he needed to feed it before it devoured him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against your ear a split second before he sheathed himself fully inside you.

You cried out--pain mixing with pleasure as his large member stretched you in ways you'd never before experienced.

Dean couldn't give you time to adjust--he was too far gone. His hips began to move and his sole focus was on his own pleasure--his own release.

His thrusts were powerful and fast, so much so that your body started to scoot farther up the bed. He grabbed your hips and held you in place, pace never faltering. The sensations were almost painful given his size, but you wouldn't have stopped him even if you could have.

"Fuck, baby--you feel so good," he grunted.

You were more than a little surprised when he spoke--you hadn't pegged him as a dirty talker. Then again, it could very well have been the pollen. The same could be said of the sounds coming from his mouth. You'd never heard such sinful noises and you loved them.

"So tight--squeezing me so good. Feels like heaven."

You squeezed his cock purposefully, making him groan each time you clenched down. He needed his release and you were gonna make sure he got it. Your own enjoyment was far from your mind--this was essentially a transaction--a lifesaving measure. You had to view it that way to protect your heart...at least that's what you told yourself.

"Baby," he moaned. "Imma fill you up--so close."

Despite the voice in your head telling you this wasn't real--that you shouldn't have any emotional attachments--you reached up and touched his face, caressing it lovingly. "Cum for me, Dean," you whispered.

His eyes locked on yours and he bit his lip--hearing you say his name in the heat of the moment was a bigger turn on than he'd ever imagined. It pushed him right over the edge and he spilled inside of you with a grunt.

You lay beneath him, panting despite the minimal exertion on your part. He'd had his orgasm, but he was still moving, much to your surprise. "You're not done--?"

He shook his head. "Need more."

He pulled out and quickly flipped you over with no warning. You instinctively lifted your hips to allow him access, which he took without hesitation. His cock was still throbbing and the need still burned in his veins. His mind remained singularly focused on his relief--his pleasure.

He slammed into your pussy and set a brutal pace, earning a cry of pain from your lips. This new angle allowed him better access, sending his cock deeper inside of you. His head brushed against your cervix with each thrust, a stinging pain accompanying the pleasure.

Dean's large palm came down on your ass with a hard smack, eliciting a gasp of surprise from your lips. Your pussy clamped down on his cock as he landed another slap to your round cheek.

"Fuck baby, you like that don't you?" Smack. "You like it when I slap this sexy ass?" Smack. "Fuck--squeezing me so tight, sweetheart." Smack.

He was right though, you loved it. You always had, but there was something extra enjoyable about having your ass smacked by Dean Fucking Winchester. Even if you couldn't verbally express your pleasure to him, your pussy made it well-known.

Dean's right hand gripped your hips tightly, pulling you flush against him as he continued pumping. His left hand trailed up your back until he grabbed a fist full of hair at the base of your neck and pulled. Your head snapped back and you cried out, but you didn't fight him.

"Do you know how badly I've wanted to pull this hair, pretty girl? Fuck--I think about it all the time." His pace was relentless and his hand remained entangled in your hair.

You'd never really noticed him looking at your hair in any particular way, so you assumed once again the pollen was making him say such dirty little things.

After several more thrusts, Dean let go of your hair and pushed down on your upper back, forcing you to press your upper body into the mattress. Dean gripped your hips with both of his hands and slammed into you with an intensity that was unmatched by any of his previous actions.

You had a feeling he was close to another orgasm, at least if his grunts and curses were anything to go by. You clenched down around him again, intent on pushing him past the brink.

It worked like a charm. Dean came with a cry of your name, thrusts continuing as he emptied inside of you once again.

You were exhausted and you hadn't had a single orgasm. Part of you really hoped Dean had gotten it all out of his system, but another part of you didn't want this to end. Even if it wasn't real--even if he didn't actually want to be having sex with you, you liked pretending, if only for a little while.

Dean pulled out of you slowly and rolled you over with a surprising gentleness. You assumed that meant he was satiated and the pollen was out of his system.

When you met his eyes, you were surprised by how brilliantly green they were. You'd almost gotten used to the dark forest color that had taken over as a result of the pollen. He was looking at you with an odd expression you couldn't quite place, but for some reason it made you want to scurry away and hide.

"Better?" you whispered.

He cocked his head to the side and a small smirk played on his lips. "Not even close," he murmured.

His lips met yours in a fiery kiss before you had time to respond. Unlike the previous kisses, this one was more passionate, more intense. It made your body tingle all over and a warmth spread through your veins.

Dean's brain fog had finally cleared enough that he could actually slow down and focus on what was happening--on what he was doing, or rather who. He hated that he'd cum twice without even thinking about you, let alone making you orgasm. Dean prided himself on being an excellent lover and he wasn't about to let you leave this bed unsatisfied.

His cock brushed against your pussy as he shifted to hold you closer. You both inhaled sharply, enjoying the sensation. Dean's lips began to travel down your neck, leaving soft, wet kisses in his wake. He nipped at your pulse point, earning an excited moan from you. He liked hearing that sound, so he sucked on that spot until you were panting heavily beneath him.

His hands traveled over your soft curves, touching and squeezing all the parts of your body you were self-conscious about. Dean didn't seem to give a damn that your stomach wasn't flat, that your hips weren't narrow and your thighs weren't skinny--in fact, he seemed to be reveling in the feeling of softness.

His lips were so gentle as he continued his downward movements. He kissed and licked and sucked on each of your breasts, spending several minutes focusing on each one. "You have such perfect breasts," he murmured.

You were too surprised, and perhaps too lost in pleasure, to formulate any kind of response to his words. Luckily, he didn't seem to need one, and he refocused his attention on you.

Once he was satisfied your breasts had received enough love, he continued moving down your stomach, stopping to place soft kisses to every mark and scar he saw.

When he reached your sweet pussy, he spread your legs as wide as he could and settled down between them. You were surprised at his actions, especially since you knew he was still hard--that he still needed another release.

Dean was now singularly focused on one thing--and that was you. Now that his damn brain was working properly, he wanted to make sure you enjoyed this--even if it was a one time thing because you didn't want him to die, he wasn't about to walk away from this without making you scream his name at least once.

He breathed in deeply, smelling your arousal mixed with his own spend, and he smirked. His eyes flicked up to yours and his mouth latched onto your clit, unleashing an overwhelming assault on your swollen mound.

You gasped as the sudden pleasure washed over you. You couldn't take your eyes off the man between your legs--nor did he take his eyes off you. Every time your hips bucked or you tried to move, his strong arms held you in place so he could continue to watch you.

You were writhing against the sheets in what felt like seconds--it was probably longer, but either way you felt embarrassed at how quickly you fell apart under his touch. Your orgasm tore through you like a hurricane, broken moans dripping from your lips.

To your shock, and perhaps concern, Dean didn't stop his assault on your pussy. Even as you tried to squirm away, he held you in place, desperate to give you another orgasm. You whimpered that it was too much, begged him to give you a break, but all of those words quickly morphed into pleas to keep going--don't stop.

"Dean," you gasped as your fingers slipped into his hair, grabbing hold of the short locks by the roots. Your nails scrapped lightly against his scalp and he let out a soft groan.

His tongue seemed to dance across your clit, creating beautiful designs and languages only he seemed to know. He paid attention to what motions made you quiver, which ones made you moan, and which ones had you tugging on his hair with an iron grip.

"Dean, please--I--so close," you moaned.

He smiled, enjoying the immense pleasure he was giving you just as much as you seemed to enjoy it. A few moments later, you were once again coming apart against his mouth and he eagerly lapped up everything you had to give him.

This time as you tugged on his hair and squirmed away, he obliged, lifting himself up from between your thighs. He licked his lips as he looked down at your blissed out face.

"You taste like heaven, baby," he murmured. "Wanna taste?"

Your pretty (y/e/c) eyes widened and you nodded hesitantly. He smiled wolfishly as he leaned down to kiss you, tongue invading your mouth almost instantly, allowing you to taste yourself.

You moaned into the kiss and he held you even more tightly, lips sealed to yours like he needed your air to breathe.

He wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed to control his urges long enough to coax two orgasms from you, but he could feel that control waning. "I need you, baby," he whispered against your lips. "I need you so badly."

You looked up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. You lifted your hips to brush against his cock and he groaned at the contact. You nipped at his jaw and pulled him back down to you. "Fuck me, Dean. Please."

He groaned. "Yes ma'am."

He didn't hesitate as he gripped his cock firmly and lined it up with your entrance. He slipped inside easily, having plenty of lubrication to assist him. Despite having been inside of you multiple times at this point, he was still taken aback by how fucking incredible you felt.

"God, I love this pussy," he murmured. "She was made for me."

You moaned softly at his words and the feeling of him inside you once again. As he started to move, he was much more gentle and you found yourself enjoying the sensations--perhaps more than you should.

"You're so good for me, (Y/N)," Dean mumbled, already lost in the feeling of you.

You would have given anything to hear him say that, but the words broke your heart a little. Had he had any other choice, he likely wouldn't be here right now--you wouldn't be the one he was fucking.

"Hey," he whispered, a rough, calloused hand running along your cheek as he looked at you. "Where's that pretty little head at?"

You smiled at him. "Right here, Dean."

Somewhere inside of him, he knew you were lying, but the damn pollen was still affecting his senses. He accepted your response and went back to his actions, focusing on the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock like a vise.

He wanted to feel you cum one more time...wanted to feel the way you'd squeeze his cock as you came. He wanted to watch you come undone beneath him, lost in pleasure he gave you.

He grabbed a pillow and gently lifted your hips, sliding the pillow under them. This provided him a new, improved angle, allowing him to cage you beneath him and hit that sweet spot inside you.

"Dean!" you gasped as the first thrust hit your g-spot.

He grinned and picked up his pace, slamming into it repeatedly. Each thrust sent you closer to the edge of an orgasm you knew would ruin you. Dean Winchester already made you feel things no other man ever had and his ability in bed was no exception. Damn him.

His thrusts were firm and measured, each one sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through your body. The familiar tightening in your gut was so intense you thought you might actually explode.

Dean's strong arms were on either side of your head and he was looking down at you with that same strange expression from earlier. "You're so damn beautiful, baby. I wanna watch this pretty face as you cum for me."

You gasped, unprepared for the way his words made you feel. You felt emboldened, so you asked for what you needed. "I need more, Dean."

His hand slipped between your bodies, a single finger gently massaging your clit as he continued to fuck you. "That better, baby?"

You nodded rapidly, earning a soft chuckle from his sweet lips.

"You gonna cum for me beautiful?"

You nodded again.

"Yeah? I want you to keep those pretty eyes open when you cum, okay? Wanna see you fall apart."

"Dean..." you whispered.

"I know, sweet girl. I've got you."

Your brain seemed to short-circuit in that moment. All you could feel was a blinding hot pressure immediately followed by an intense euphoria. You heard someone scream "Dean!" and you belatedly realized it had been your voice.

The intensity of your orgasm sent Dean spiraling over the edge of his own. He hadn't even been prepared for it--the mixture of you screaming his name and the sensations of you squeezing him so tightly and the gorgeous way your face contorted as you came was all he needed.

He emptied into you a third and final time, his cock finally beginning to soften as he helped you ride out your high.

He pulled out and flopped down beside you on the bed, his body aching from what had to be some of the best sex of his life--sex pollen or not.

You were just as sore as Dean--probably more so given you literally couldn't move. The two of you laid there in silence, slowly coming down from the electrical highs you'd experienced, both trying to catch your breath for the first time in what felt like hours.

Dean was the first to recover. "Did I hurt you?" he asked so softly you almost didn't hear him.

You turned your head to look at him and your heart clenched at the expression on his face. He was genuinely worried, brows furrowed in concern. You contemplated lying to him, but you knew he'd see right through you.

"A little," you said honestly.

He winced and his beautiful eyes closed. "I'm so sorry, (Y/N)--I would never hurt you on purpose--ever."

You offered him a small smile he couldn't see, until your hand touched his cheek and he opened his eyes again. "I know."

There were a thousand other things you wanted to say--a thousand words you wanted to string together into just the right sentences, but you couldn't. You wouldn't put yourself through it.

"Shower?" he asked softly.

"I honestly don't think I can stand."

A smirk played on his lips. "That should not make me feel so damn good."

You laughed lightly, glad to hear the teasing tone in his voice that you loved so much.

He managed to pull himself into a sitting position. "It's not ideal, but there is a bathtub..." he trailed off.

"I wouldn't mind a bath," you admitted.

He nodded and got to his feet. He was a little unsteady at first, but managed to make his way to the bathroom. You heard the water running as he filled up the tub.

You laid there thinking about everything that had just happened. This was a position you'd never imagined you'd be in--with anyone, let alone Dean Winchester.

You knew this wasn't something you were going to be able to forget about, but you hoped things would go back to normal between the two of you and eventually this would just be a funny story.

Suddenly, Sam's words from earlier snapped into your mind. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."

One and done...one and done. This most definitely had not been a 'one and done' scenario. But didn't that mean...? No. No way. Impossible. Dean Winchester does NOT have feelings for you.

You began to rationalize your thought process. Maybe "care about" included a friendly relationship. Yeah...yeah that made the most sense. Of course Dean cares about you. You're his best friend. There couldn't possibly be anything more to it...right?

As if on cue, Dean stepped back into the room. "Bath's ready."

"Okay." You tried to pull yourself up, but you immediately fell back against the mattress, body too worn out to sustain any kind of movement.

Dean chuckled lightly and came up to the side of the bed. He pulled the pillow out from under your hips and slipped his arms under your body, hoisting you up bridal style.

"Jesus!" you yelled. "Put me down! I'm too heavy--you'll throw out your back."

Dean laughed. "Calm down, (Y/N). I just threw you around this bed repeatedly with zero issues. I promise I can carry you to the bathroom without dying."

"But--"

He glared at you and tightened his grip on you as if to prove his point. "Ain't a damn thing wrong with your body, so shut it."

Your mouth closed immediately. His words sent a jolt directly to your core and you were almost annoyed by it. As if three orgasms wasn't enough...

Dean very gently set you on your feet in the bathroom and slowly helped you into the tub. As soon as he got you into a seated position, he got into the tub as well, slipping in behind you.

"Umm...whatcha doing?"

"Taking a bath."

"Isn't the tub a bit small for both of us?"

You could feel him shrug behind you. "I think it's perfect size. Now come here." He grabbed your shoulders and gently pulled you back so you were laying against his chest. "That's better," he muttered.

Your mind began to race once again as you laid there, body tense and uncomfortable.

"Okay, (Y/N), I know you better than anyone, so don't you dare lie to me. Where's your head at?"

"I--" you sighed. "I'm not really sure how to feel."

He nodded. "I know you didn't want this--I feel like I had to literally force myself onto you and I hate that. I know you only agreed so I wouldn't die, but--"

"Woah--stop." You sat up and turned your head to face him. "That's not true at all. You didn't force me to do anything."

"Okay, maybe 'force' is the wrong word...but you did have sex with me to save my life. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

"I'm painfully aware," you muttered.

He ran his hand over his face. "I'm not saying any of this right."

"Then what are you trying to say?"

He bit his lip. "Remember what Sammy said? About...how long the effects would last?"

You nodded.

"Well in case you didn't notice, I had three orgasms."

"Both me and my very sore vagina noticed," you said lightly.

He sighed. "Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, (Y/N)?"

You turned a little more so you could see his face better. He had that same look he'd had when he was making you feel incredible. "I need to hear you say it..." you whispered.

He nodded and leaned forward so his face was mere inches from yours. "He didn't mean 'care' as in 'we're friends, so I care about you'...he meant 'care' as in 'love'."

Your lips parted and you inhaled sharply.

"So you see, I don't just care about you as a friend...and I don't just love you as a friend...I'm in love with you."

"You--you love me?"

"In love," he repeated. "For as long as I can remember."

"You're in love--with me?"

He chuckled softly. "Who else would I be talking to, baby? Yes, I'm in love with you."

"I--I don't know--" you stuttered.

"The only thing you need to know is how you feel. Do you know how you feel about me, (Y/N)?" he whispered.

You nodded slowly.

"And?"

"I'm in love with you too."

He grinned widely. "Yeah?"

You nodded, cheeks turning red.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back against him. He looked down at you with that expression he'd been wearing and you suddenly realized what it was...it was love--real, true, beautiful, heart aching love.

He leaned down and placed a soft kiss to your lips, which you returned in kind. He held you tightly, loving the feeling of your body in his arms.

"We better get cleaned up before this water gets cold," he said softly, lips pressing to your hair.

"Mhmm," you hummed.

He chuckled. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me, babe."

"But I'm comfortable," you whined.

He smiled against your cheek. "Give me five minutes to clean you up and then we can sleep, okay?"

You looked over at him and smiled. "Deal."

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#supernatural #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x plus size!reader #dean winchester x plus size!reader smut #dean winchester smut #supernatural fanfic #supernatural smut

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omophagias · 1 year

Text

losing it over this little man

#.img #.txt #.bookposting #the secretive little smile. the way they gave up on the third ANTONIUS #i cant read the back tablet and it looks like they got so mad writing ANTONIUS again that they just started scribbling #book is drawing down the moon: magic in the ancient greco-roman world by radcliffe edmonds iii

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ashwhowrites · 13 days

Note

Requesting for cliche story fuck boy eddie simping over a nerdy girl. Maybe angst in the middle?

Ugh one of my favorite dynamics to write. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

⚠️no actual smut but talks of it

She's different

Eddie spent years being made fun of and being insecure. In ways, it helped him build a tough shell and made him stronger. But it also made him void of any feelings. He turned cold-hearted and didn't let anyone get close enough to him to hurt him.

He was still a teenager, and he had his own needs. And when his hair grew out and he dressed in chains and leather, more girls were at his feet than he had ever seen. Most girls were from the hideout, groupies that lived to watch him on stage. They threw themselves at him for a chance to get backstage and be under his touch.

Being in a band was the happiest thing that happened to him and he loved the easy access of girls to choose from. School was hell, but the second he was on stage, he was what all the girls wanted. And no one would take that feeling away from him.

~~~

Eddie was half asleep as he sat in class. His hand on his palm as he felt his eyes grow heavier. He had a late night with a girl's name he didn't remember. He moaned in discomfort as he felt her marks still stinging on his back.

"Hi," a soft voice spoke in front of him. He snapped open his eyes to see a girl in front of him. She had glasses, and her hair was down. She wore a little sweater and a skinny pair of jeans.

"Can I help you?" Eddie yawned

"Um..." She said as she looked around the classroom. Everyone is moving to sit with their partners. "We are partners. Were you listening?" She asked with a little giggle.

Eddie couldn't help but smile as the sound left her lips. He had to admit, for a quiet nerd, she was adorable.

"I was not, but take a seat," he said with a smile. He used his foot to push out the chair next to him. She moved delicately as she put down her books and sat next to him. He smelled her perfume and examined her even closer. She had these big curious eyes, a soft nose, and incredibly pink lips, and her skin looked soft.

"Well..." She began to explain everything he missed. He tried to listen, but he couldn't stop watching as her lips moved to form the words. He nodded along as she continued to talk.

She turned her head to look at him, she felt her face burn as he stared at her with a small smile on his face.

She coughed and removed her eyes from his. "So! Let's start."

~~~

By the third day of working together, Eddie loved saying her name. He loved how sweet it sounded as it left his tongue.

He was shocked to find himself so lost in her. Not that being a nerd was bad, he used to be one. But he never thought of himself being attractive while being a nerd. But God, did she do it well.

He was captivated by how smart she was. Way too smart to be in his class. She was mature and he could tell by the way she spoke with a high vocabulary. She didn't make him feel dumb, which was different. She was sweet and took the time to explain anything he didn't understand.

He was smitten.

~~~

Five days into working together he wanted more. He wanted to see her outside of school, outside of her shell. He wanted to see how she looked in the outside world and how her personality might change. He wondered if she had another side of her. A side that didn't stress about grades and let loose.

"What are you doing tonight?" He asked, not realizing he cut her off as she explained another part of the project. He was too lost in his head as he thought about her.

She closed her mouth and gave her answer a thought.

"Well, it's Friday so nothing." She laughed, "Why do you ask? Are you worried we won't finish? Because we have five minutes and just one last paragraph." She explained as she pushed up her glasses.

"Nah, respectfully, I could care less about this project," he chuckled, "I want to hang out, just the two of us and not focus on the project."

She froze as she looked over at him. His eyes sparkled and the sun shined perfectly on his face.

"Why would you want that?" She nervously asked. She couldn't form a single idea why he would want to hang out with her. She wasn't anywhere near his usual crowd of friends.

"Because I want to get to know you. I was thinking about a date?" He offered. He felt a little nervous and didn't understand why. Asking out girls was something he could do in his sleep, but she had his stomach fluttering and his hands sweaty.

He felt more nervous as he waited for her answer.

"Why not," she smiled. She clicked her pen and grabbed his hand. He flinched a little as the pen tickled his hand as she wrote down her phone number.

"Call me," she smiled as she picked up her stuff. A second later the bell rang and she was gone in a flash.

Eddie bit back his smile as he looked down at his hand. Her number and a little heart written next to it. He jumped out of his seat, a bounce in his step as he walked out.

Eddie didn't realize he was causing much of a commotion until Wayne walked into his disaster room.

"Edward, what in the hell are you doing?" Wayne asked as he took in the sight of Eddie's room. Clothes were thrown everywhere, and shoes were missing their pairs.

"I'm trying to find a nice shirt but everything is a band!" Eddie cussed to himself.

Wayne couldn't help the smile that went across his face, "And why do you all of a sudden need a nice shirt?" He was young once, and he knew exactly why his nephew was stressed.

"Don't look at me like that," Eddie groaned as he yanked off his shirt and added it to the no pile.

"What's her name?" Wayne asked, he leaned against the door with his arms crossed.

"Y/N," Eddie sighed, "I asked her out and I have nothing to wear!"

"Looks to me like you have a lot of options," Wayne laughed, "But what if we go get a nice shirt? I'll take you."

Eddie looked at his watch, he had a good few hours before he needed to leave.

"Fine but we don't speak of it," Eddie said as he pointed at Wayne.

Eddie's leg shook in the car as they pulled up to the small strip mall.

"How come you are this nervous?" Wayne asked as he got out of the car. "We share a wall so I know you aren't shy with many girls."

Eddie blushed in embarrassment, and he mumbled an apology.

"She's different, I guess." Eddie shrugged, he walked behind Wayne as they walked into the shop.

Eddie stood in front of the mirror as he sprayed on cologne. He used water to pat down his hair, and he ran his hands over his new button-up.

He was nervous but he was excited.

Wayne wished him luck as he walked out the door. Eddie got in his van and headed to the address she gave over the phone. His heart raced when he talked to her for a few seconds. He was not sure what he was going to do when he was with her all night.

Before he knew it he was outside her door and knocking.

"Hi, Eddie," she smiled as she opened the door. "You look very handsome." She was surprised to see him in something else other than a band shirt and ripped jeans.

"Oh, thank you," he smiled, "you look wonderful." His eyes skimmed up and down her body. She wore a simple and casual dress. It was white with little sunflowers. It matched her personality. She wore her glasses and light makeup.

"Thank you," she smiled.

Eddie gestured for her to walk in front of him, they walked to his van and got inside. She listened to his music as he drove to the location of their date. She was nervous. She had never been on a date before and definitely not with a guy like Eddie.

"I hope you like water," Eddie said, Y/N looked out the windshield and saw that there was a little pond. He got out of the van and opened her door. She thanked him as she got out. She waited as he grabbed a basket from his backseat.

He led them down a little hill, his hand holding hers as she wobbled.

Once they made it to the flat ground, he let go of her hand. He reached into the basket and pulled out a blanket. He threw it on the ground and offered her to sit first.

She smiled as she sat down, smoothing down her dress to cover her thighs. Eddie sat next to her and took out a few snacks from the basket.

Within an hour they were talking like they knew each other for years. Eddie was learning so much about her and it made him like her even more. She had an amazing personality and she was funny. She made Eddie laugh so hard that water came out of his nose. Which made her laugh so hard she had to hold her stomach.

She didn't think she had ever been so happy to be with someone.

And for once, Eddie loved getting to know someone.

As another hour passed, Eddie's urgers got the best of him. She was telling a story and he was lost in her eyes. The way the moon shined down on her and the sound of the water, it couldn't get more romantic in his eyes.

Eddie didn't notice he was leaning in until she froze. He looked down at her lips as he closed the space between them. He softly kissed her lips, and his hands reached forward to wrap around her waist.

She was nervous but she kissed him back. Her hands shook as she moved her arms around his neck. She was new to this and she wasn't sure how to kiss him back. But as he kissed her harder, she got the hang of it.

The kiss got heated as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, she shivered and was surprised to hear a moan slip from her throat.

Eddie took the moan as a green light to move forward. His hands moved down to her thighs and began to slip under her dress.

Her lips stopped and she yanked back. Her hands stopped his hands from moving even further.

"Don't be nervous," he whispered, he went to attach his lips to hers again but she turned her head.

"I'm not, It's our first date, Eddie. I don't want to rush anything." She explained honestly.

"It's not rushing. I do this on all my first dates." Eddie shrugged like it wasn't a big deal.

Y/N felt a blow hit her chest. All of his dates? How many has he been on? How many had he brought to this exact spot?

"You're a pig," she scoffed as she shoved him off of her. She stood up.

"Woah, what's going on?" He asked as he stood up. He wasn't aware his fuck boy ways were sneaking out of him.

"Absolutely nothing anymore," she glared, "take me home." She marched to his van without a glance back.

The car ride was silent. She didn't speak a word, just stared out the window.

She should have known better.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked as he pulled up to her house.

"I'll see you Monday." She spat as she got out and slammed his door.

"Y/N!" he yelled after her as he got out. He grabbed her arm and turned her around.

"What did I do?" he asked genuinely.

"I do this on all my dates," she mocked, her voice deep as she repeated his words. "I should have known it was all an act."

The realization smacked him in the face.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push like that." His eyes were soft as he apologized. "None of it is an act! I really like you and I'm not used to feeling that way. I'm used to something different, you know?"

"Maybe you need to figure out everything you feel, and maybe we can talk when you are ready to face those feelings." She smiled sadly and pecked his cheek. He watched as she walked inside.

~~~

The next night Eddie was all over the place. He performed and ran straight to the bar. He wanted to drink his sorrows away. He had one shot and he blew it. He showed just how washed up he was. He slammed down his shot and called for another.

"Hard night?" A random girl asked as she sat next to him. He turned his head to take in the blonde.

"Yep," he said, slamming down his second shot.

"Let me make you feel better," she whispered into his ear.

Eddie sat in the back of his van with the random girl on his lap. Her lips were on his neck, but everything felt wrong.

He wasn't enjoying it, and it wasn't making him forget about her. He tried to close his eyes, but all he saw was her sweet smile as they laughed by the water.

He stopped the girl's hands as they went for his belt.

"I can't do this. I'm sorry," he said, he didn't look at her as he grabbed his shirt and slipped it on.

"Are you serious? Since when?" the girl scoffed

"Have you ever really liked someone? Not like being in love, but in that area where you can see yourself falling in love with them?" He asked, the girl sighed and slipped on her shirt.

"Yeah. Chances are if you can already see yourself falling in love, it'll happen. You stuck in that spot?" She asked

"You know my reputation around here. I fuck and move on. She's different. I asked her out and we had an amazing date, then I fucked it up." He sighed, "Not sure how to fix it."

"Admitting it to yourself is the first step,"

"And the next?" he asked

"You admit it to her."

~~~

Monday morning arrived and Eddie was ready to win her back.

Since the project was finished, she wouldn't be sitting next to him. But that was not going to stop him.

He wrote a little note this morning, asking to meet outside during lunch. He walked in and saw her already sitting at her spot. He took a deep breath and handed the note to her.

She looked up at him but didn't say a word.

Eddie walked back to his desk. All throughout class he kept looking back at her.

Eddie waited outside and checked his watch. Lunch started ten minutes ago and she wasn't there. He was nervous he might have messed up too much and that she didn't care to fix it. She probably realized he wasn't worth the hassle or the emotions he caused.

He crunched the flowers in his grip as he looked over his shoulder.

"Hi,"

He heard her soft voice before he saw her. He turned around and smiled as she walked closer.

He was nervous as he handed her the flowers, "these are for you."

"Thanks," she said quietly as she took the flowers from his hands.

"I'm really sorry for acting like a dick. You were right, I needed to figure out everything I felt. I went to the bar and I met someone."

Y/N ignored the pain she felt as she listened.

"My plan was to do what I always did. Sleep with someone until I forgot why I was there in the first place. But I stopped it because it felt wrong. I hated myself for being with her. I kept thinking of you." He stepped closer as he held her hand.

"I was doing the wrong thing and with the wrong person. And it made me realize, that I really like you. And I want my main focus to be just on you. I want you." He looked deep into her eyes. "I would love to have the chance to take you out again. I've never actually been on a date, that was my first real one. I know I fucked up the beautiful night we had, but I really think I can make you feel special."

"I guess there's no harm in giving it a shot." She smiled

Eddie jumped to his feet with excitement.

"Thank you!" he crushed her in a hug as she laughed.

~~~

They had been dating for a month and Eddie was true to his word. She felt more special than ever and it was all because of him.

She felt a little nervous as they walked into the hideout. He was honest about his past here and the reputation he had. But she wanted to be a supportive girlfriend and watch him perform. She had to try to forget about all the girls there and just focus on her man.

"The second I'm done, I will be coming straight to you," he smiled. He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. She was in a territory where Eddie was never taken, and she wanted to prove herself.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him harder. She wasn't shy as she snuck her tongue in his mouth. Her body rocked against his as his hands landed on her ass.

He felt his head spin as she pulled away. His eyes slowly opened as he caught his breath

"What was that?" he asked, his eyes dark as he drank her in

"Good luck kiss," she said with a shrug and smirk

"I'm going to need luck hiding the front of my pants," he teased as he adjusted his tight jeans.

"I'll help you faster," she whispered in his ear. She enjoyed the way he shuddered.

He kept his eyes on her as he walked into the back.

She understood why so many girls adored her boyfriend. The way he performed was incredible. It was hard to look anywhere else.

She waited at a table in the back as he wrapped up. His sweaty body came walking towards her but a girl stepped in.

Y/N couldn't hear the conversation but she could tell the girl was flirting by the way she ran her hand up Eddie's arm.

Then another girl came after that one left. And then other.

Y/N felt sick as she watched countless girls walk up and flirt with him. It was a painful reminder of what Eddie's past was.

She was quick to run outside, needed fresh air and to be away from the scene she was stuck watching over and over.

Eddie was quick to push everyone aside and follow her out.

"Hey baby," he said softly, she was leaning against the wall.

"You were amazing!" she praised as she pulled him into a hug. Eddie hugged her back and thanked her. He pulled back but kept his arms around her.

"Want to tell me what happened in there?" Eddie asked

Y/N sighed and looked down at her feet

"I was just a little jealous."

"Why? You are my girlfriend, they've got nothing on you." Eddie explained

Y/N scoffed and unhooked her arms from him.

"They have all had sex with you, Eddie! They've got plenty on me. I mean, I am nothing like those girls."

"Exactly!" Eddie said as he placed his hands on her face. "I don't want you to be anything like them. I want you because you are you. Yes, I've been physical with them, but that is all. There is no connection or emotional ties. It's different with you because I really see myself falling in love with you."

"Really?" she smiled as she looked up at him.

"Of course." He said as he crashed his lips on hers. She moaned as she kissed him back, her hands in his hair.

After a few seconds, she pulled away. Smirking as he chased her lips. She had him right around her finger.

"You know..." she started, her hands slipped down his body and rested on top of his jeans. "Maybe I'll eliminate the one thing they have on me." Her smirk made Eddie shiver in excitement.

"As in sex?" Eddie choked out. His eyes lit up like Christmas as he practically bounced with anticipation.

"Van, now." She said as she turned around and walked towards his fan.

He watched her walk away with a dopey smile on his face.

"YOU COMING?" she yelled as she turned. She walked backward and kept her eyes on him. She laughed as he seemed to snap out of his daydream. He fished out his keys and dropped them on the floor.

"SHIT, I'M COMING!" he screamed as he bent down and grabbed his keys.

She giggled as he ran straight to the van.

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #ashwhowrites #fuck boy eddie munson! x reader #fuck boy eddie!

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livinginshambles · 3 months

Text

You'll never compare to her | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: you're in a relaionship with James, but he keeps on comparing you with Lily subconsciously until he says it to your face on a drunken night.

Notes: Hi, sorry I got into a major writer's block and couldn't for the life of me find a fitting ending, because I can't forgive this easily from own experiences, but I do like happy endings cause copium. Anyway if y'all have suggestions, I'll make a part two :)

Not proofread, grammar mistakes, spelling mistakes, etc etc. ENJOY!

Masterlist

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“James, wait up!” you yelled across the courtyard, catching the attention of about everyone except James. You watched James turn the corner with Peter, an exasperated expression on your face. You looked down dejectedly but then you saw the stares of people around you. You grinned widely at them, covering up any signs of embarrassment.

“There’s just something about boys and hearing problems,” you joked with a nonchalant shrug, and the surrounding students giggled in understanding.

You hummed to yourself while you walked off. You’d give James his wand later. He probably wouldn’t need it for Potions class anyway.

Peter looked up at James in confusion. “Prongs, did you not hear her call out to you?”

James sighed. “We’ll be late for class if we stopped, you know. I mean, I love my girlfriend, but she’s just sometimes a bit oblivious, and once she starts, we’ll be stuck there,” James explained in a complaining manner.

“But you love her,” came a voice behind him. Sirius parted James and Peter to walk between the two of them. “Right?” He swung his arms across the other marauders’ shoulders.

James gave him an annoyed look. “That’s what I said, but great hearing.”

“Better than you if you couldn’t hear her calling you,” Sirius laughed, but his eyes seemed to have lost a mischievous spark. “Do you think if you keep saying you love her, you’ll actually believe it?”

James glared at him and shook of Sirius’ arm. “If there’s literally any guy I wouldn’t take advice from, it’s you, Pads.” Sirius raised his hands in surrender. “Touchy today, are you Prongs?”

You sat down on the seventh staircase, opening your book. It was a muggle book that Lily had given to you as a birthday present. You looked at the necklace that James had bought you for your birthday. You had been afraid that he’d forgotten and been so thrilled when he had shown up at 10 in the evening.

The pendant was a flower, and even though you were not a botanical expert, you were very well aware that the flower was not a romantic rose or anything typically cheesy. You had a hunch what flower it was, but had refused to look it up, knowing that you would only be hurt.

Lily took a seat next to you. “The seventh staircase? Really? What’s wrong with the third?” She asked, utterly out of breath. You laughed, “hey, you invited yourself,” you defended with a fond smile. “Besides, since this is the highest staircase, it is the only one that is always in in a downward position, and won’t tilt and go upwards.”

“I guess,” she grinned, and she scooted over to see how far along you were in your book. “Oh my goodness, you’re getting to the good part!” she squealed happily. You gave her a warning look and closed your book. “No spoilers,” you sternly told her. Lily rolled her eyes playfully and nudged you. “I would never spoil this for you.”

“Alice and Marlene invited us for Hogsmeade this afternoon,” she casually mentioned, but she fumbled with her hands, signifying that she was nervous about something.

You raised your eyebrows. “Oh, well James and I were going to go together, so I don’t think I can join you guys this time,” you hesitantly told her.

Lily bit her lip. “James and the rest of the marauders already told Alice that they were going to join us this afternoon,” she softly explained. There was a conflicted expression in her eyes. “He overheard Alice and me talking about it.”

You pursed your lips. “Oh,” you nodded.

“Y/N, why do you let him do this to you?” Lily decided to ask you anyway.

“I’m not letting him do anything to me,” you defended. “He forgot to mention it to me, not a big deal.”

Lily protested. “We’re literally leaving as soon as their class is over. He wouldn’t have been able to tell you, Y/N. You would’ve-“

“-been waiting for him,” you finished her sentence. You bit on your cheek in thought. “I know, Lily,” you sighed.

“Then why-“

“Because I do believe he loves me,” you quickly tried to defend him, your voice raised in volume and Lily looked down. “He’s not perfect, but no one is,” you convinced yourself, recollecting yourself. You leaned against the stair post and looked down at the other stairs that changed directions, and the panicking first year students, who still hadn’t gotten the hang of it quite yet.

“He makes me feel so loved, you know,” you sighed when you looked back at her. Lily looked at you sadly. “When he remembers you, Y/N. When he remembers he has a girlfriend.”

You didn’t know what to reply because she was right. James could be the loveliest boyfriend when he wanted to. “It’s enough for me,” you eventually replied.

“It shouldn’t have to be,” Lily pointed out, but she sighed, knowing that this was a pointless battle. But she felt the need to bring it up whenever she noticed James discard you like that. She felt guilt. Both of you knew that the girl who was most often on his mind, was Lily.

Lily had finally given James a chance in their third year after a good two and a half years of James’ advances. Having outgrown James and the marauders’ childishness and bullying, specifically after the ‘Snape incident’, she’d broken up with him only three months in, leaving him devastated. You had been his friend, mostly through Sirius and Lily, and you had found him in the common room, disheveled from crying, so you had comforted him.

Something inside James had felt a pull towards you then. A sense of comfort or familiarity no doubt reminiscent of Lily, and his mind had been set on you. Of course, you had rejected his advances for over a year, absolutely appalled by his seemingly quick recovery from his breakup. And so another year would pass.

You hadn't even seen it coming. You didn't have a romantic interest in James, until you did. All of the sudden, you found yourself in love with James Potter. Not that you would ever admit that, of course. No, you remained steadfast in your resolve to keep things platonic, as the mere idea felt like a betrayal of your friendship to Lily.

But Lily had noticed of course. You had looked away ashamedly while assuring her that you were sure that it was just a fleeting crush, something that would blow over soon. Instead of judgment, her face expressed understanding and compassion as she encouraged you to stop pushing your feelings aside, going as far as calling James over, effectively starting your relationship for you.

And now, she watched as James treated her closest friend like crap.

“How about we head down in advance,” you suggested, dusting off your Hogwarts robe.

“Yeah, about time, don’t you think?” You peered over the stairs to see Marlene with her hands on her hips in a waiting manner.

“Hey guys, what are you doing here,” you laughed as Alice dragged herself up the last few steps to stand next Marlene.

“Picking you up of course, the guys are all waiting outside.”

Your heart warmed at the thought. Of course your friends would never have left you waiting by yourself to no avail. With a fond feeling, you and your friends descended the stairs again to go to Hogsmeade.

Sirius was sitting on the ground, knees propped up while they were waiting for the girls. He twirled his wand between his fingers. “Why are we going with McKinnon and such again?”

Remus next to him shrugged his shoulders. “They invited us, I think.”

Peter shuffled his feet uncomfortable. “Alice was inviting Lily and James invited himself and us.”

James grinned widely. “I mean, how awesome is it to go in a big group?” He enthusiastically asked. It was a rhetorical question, but Remus still felt the need to respond. “That’s great and all, but I thought you were going with Y/N?”

James blinked once and then twice. He jumped up from his leaning position against the wall. “Shit.”

Sirius burst out in laughter and threw his head back, hitting his a little too hard against the wall. “Oh Prongs, you crack me up,” he shook his head. “And you say that I am the worst at being in a relationship,” he huffed. James didn’t have time for finding the humor in this situation though.

He started to pace around. He completely forgot to tell you, he realized. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go find her,” he quickly made up his mind.

“Find who?”

James’ head whipped around to find Alice and Marlene looking at him curiously. Trailing a few steps behind them were you and Lily, engrossed in a conversation about the book you were holding.

“Your girlfriend perhaps?” Marlene tilted her head innocently, but every fool could see the warning look in her eyes. “Don’t worry, we’ve got her back.”

You and Lily finally caught up to the group. “Hey,” you awkwardly waved, relieved when Remus and Peter threw you a smile, and Sirius got up to pat you a little too hard on the back, making you stumble a little. You smacked him in return, but a friendly laugh on your face. “I will hex you Sirius,” you threatened half-heartedly.

“Not with James’ wand, you’re not,” he replied and nodded towards the wand in your pocket. You huffed. “Well I don’t need a wand, I can beat you up with my bare hands,” you joked. Sirius took a step back to scan you up and down. “Not with those arms, you’re not,” he grinned.

Something tugged inside James, and he surged forward to catch your attention. “Y/N, how was your class?”

You frowned, but before you could answer, Remus spoke up. “She didn’t have class today, Prongs,” he remarked.

You nodded in confirmation but held up your book. “I read this book instead.” James instantly recognized the book “Little Women”, one of Lily’s favorites.

“That’s a nice book,” he airily commented. Your brows shot up. “You’ve read this book?” James nodded. “Well, I listened to it, you could read it to me if you want sometime. I mean, Lily-“

“I knew you would never willingly read a book,” Sirius interrupted him suddenly. And Lily shot Sirius an appreciative look. James quickly looked away. Right. He quickly glanced at you, to see if you had noticed the way he had almost mentioned when Lily would read to him on date nights. If you had noticed anything, you didn’t seem to show it.

James offered his arm, and you tucked the book under your arm before linking the other with his. “What fine weather, do you not agree, Milady?” James exaggerated in a posh accent.

You laughed and looked up at the sky. The sky was covered in dark clouds, and it looked like it could rain any given moment. “Why the weather certainly is… weathering,” you managed with a covered grin.

You handed him his wand from earlier this morning. “And you forgot this in the library,” you added. James twirled it around and the wand disappeared up his sleeve. “Is that why you were calling out to me, darling?”

“So you heard me?”

James’ heart skipped a beat, and he racked his mind to find a suitable reply. A lie. “Well, Peter did, but we were already gone,” he managed to excuse himself. You frowned a little and looked back at Peter who couldn’t look you in the eyes and you sighed.

“You heard me,” you repeated, and your grip on his arm was loosening. He felt you letting go and quickly adjusted himself, grabbing your hand instead. “You’re right, I heard you. I’m really sorry I didn’t wait for you,” he admitted. He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it.

“Okay.”

When you arrived at the Three Broomsticks, James expertly pulled back a chair for you. “Just a butterbeer?” he asked. You nodded in response, but you hadn’t said much to him anymore and James frowned at the lack of your enthusiasm. When he returned with everyone’s order he sat down to your right, with Lily to your left. “Tadah,” he said, and he held up an extra package of sugar triumphantly.

“Merlin, I still can’t believe you drink butterbeer with extra sugar,” Sirius fake gagged. You kicked his leg under the table. “I just like sweet things,” you stuck out your tongue. “Besides, why are you not saying anything about Moony, he is literally crumbling pieces of chocolate in it right now.”

Sirius snapped his neck to Remus who looked up flustered. “Hey, why are you attacking me,” he complained.

James grabbed your mug and quickly sipped away the foam on top that you disliked and dumped the sugar into the mug. “There you go, on the house,” he proudly said. Your heart filled with fondness, and you appreciatively sipped from your drink.

James leaned in. “I love you,” he whispered, and he pressed a kiss to your temple, succeeding in making you flustered. “I’m in love with you too,” you mumbled back.

Gryffindor had won their first Quidditch match of the season and naturally, they threw a party in the common room. You had wanted to go when Remus and Peter had invited you, but James and piped up. “No, she doesn’t like those things. Too loud,” he confidently said, absolutely assuming.

“I like parties though?” you replied. You wanted to hang out with James and the marauders, and you were not scared of disagreeing with James. James looked at you with an unreadable expression. “Oh, well obviously you can come if you want. I just didn’t expect you to want to be among loud drunk people,” he recovered.

“What if she is one of the loud drunk people,” Sirius remarked from behind James. “Just because Li-“ James elbowed him in the stomach and Sirius groaned.

Perhaps it would have been wiser of you not to go. Maybe you should’ve been a little more like Lily, who had stayed in the dorms, snacking and reading. It sure would’ve hurt less.

“You will never compare to her.”

All you could manage was a bitter smile. James looked defiantly at you, but his eyes seemed to find it difficult to find focus. Your throat tightened and you tried to swallow, but still couldn’t find an adequate response to James’ hurtful words.

“I know that, James,” you eventually wryly replied. Of course you knew that, despite your attempts to be a better girlfriend by being more like Lily. You cleared your throat and furiously blinked away tears that threatened to show the impact of his words.

“You should go get some sleep,” you murmured, and you tried to coax him into laying down on his bed, desperately trying to ignore the issue at hand. Perhaps if you paid it no mind, you could pass this off as nothing more than a drunken insult that you could pretend never happened.

But James doubled down.

“You will never compare to her,” he repeated. This time he added some emphasis as well. You inhaled sharply. His words were no longer slurred, and his eyes seemed to bore right into yours. You’ve never felt so small in your life, your skin crawled uncomfortably as time passed in silence. You frowned deeply now and stared out the window behind James. What were you supposed to do with this information? It wasn’t new, but it was the first time the words had outright left his mouth.

You looked him back in his eyes. “Okay. I’m going to go and get you a glass of water for a hangover,” you slowly spoke up, trying to keep your voice calm. “Don’t forget you said this. I want you to remember that you said this because I need you to apologize for it when I get back, James.”

James groaned; his headache started to get worse. “Fine, go, but don’t come back today, I’ve had enough. And I won’t apologize tomorrow either.” James turned around a faced his back towards you. He was drifting off. “You’ll forgive me anyway, you always do. It’s the one thing you’ve got.” He mumbled. “At least you’re easier than her.”

Your face burned in embarrassment; your eyes shifted across the room as if trying to make sure no one had heard him. How long could you hold back your tears to keep your dignity, you wondered. Would you at least make it all the way to your own dorms?

“Okay,” you resigned shakily with a nod, slowly getting up while staring at his back. “I won’t be back.”

His breaths seemed to slow down to a steady pace, and you knew he had fallen asleep. Your arms hung defeatedly next to your body and your hand tapped your leg restlessly before reaching for your wand. You murmured a spell on the glass of water on his bedside. It would help him with his hangover tomorrow, and it would be the last act of affection you would direct at him, you decided.

You closed the door behind you and quickly untucked your hair from behind your ears, letting it cover your face. The path back to your own dormitory seemed longer than usual, each step weighed down by the burden of uncertainty.

You passed Remus in a hurry, who seemed to look at you in a concerned manner. Remus turned his head to see Sirius looking worried as well.

James stared at the ceiling. Against his own wishes, he remembered yesterday evening crystal clear. He frowned as he closed his eyes and sunk deeper into his matrass.

Of course he felt bad about what he said, but you were in so many ways like Lily. From the strange muggle expressions you had picked up from her, to your mannerisms, like the way Lily laughed with a hand in front of her mouth to cover her teeth, to your handwriting. Though he knew it wasn’t fair to you, it was so easy to compare you. If anything, it was difficult not to do so. But he was sure he loved you regardless.

You never left James’ mind as he got ready to head downstairs to the great hall. He should apologize to you, James figured. He walked over to his bed and downed the glass of water on his bedside. He laughed somewhat fondly to himself when his mind cleared up immediately. You had enchanted it, he realized. So how angry could you possibly really be, this time.

Feeling rather confident, James headed towards the Great Hall. The Hogwarts Great Hall buzzed with the usual morning chatter as students filed in for breakfast.

As he scanned the room, his eyes found you sitting beside Lily at the Gryffindor table. There was something different about your smile, a subtle sadness that didn't escape James' notice. He felt a pang of guilt wash over him, knowing he was the cause of your distress.

Lily, ever perceptive, shot James a cold look before nodding toward the empty seat next to her. James approached cautiously, unsure of how to navigate the tension that hung in the air.

"Thanks, Lily," he offered gratefully, though the discomfort in the atmosphere was palpable. Lily didn’t spare him a glance and got up. “I’ll wait for you outside,” she smiled encouragingly. She clasped her hands together and nodded at you before leaving. James stared at Lily.

You cleared your throat, drawing James' attention fully to you. His heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of your determined expression.

"You look dashingly beautiful today, darling," James remarked, hoping to lighten the mood with his usual charm.

But you met his gaze head-on, your resolve unwavering. "I'm not going to be the one you settle for," you declared firmly, your words sending a chill down James' spine.

Confusion clouded James' features as he struggled to comprehend your words. "Wait, darling, come on," he pleaded, reaching out to grasp your hand gently.

You pulled away; your tone was unwavering. "I'm not joking around, James. To me, we ended yesterday," you asserted, your voice steady. James felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, realizing the gravity of the situation. That this wasn’t a joke or a call for an apology. An apology wouldn’t fix this, he realized. How could he fix this? James’ mind raced.

"Yesterday- What? If it's about what I said, I was just drunk," he protested weakly, desperation creeping into his voice.

You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation. "You literally doubled down twice, James. Well, it doesn't matter anymore, but I wanted to close this off properly. That's it," you explained, placing your knife and fork on your plate, and pushing it to the middle of the table, where it magically vanished towards the kitchen. You rose from your seat.

James reached out to stop you, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Y/N, I swear, I was drunk. And I love you," he confessed, his heart was pounding in his chest. He felt his friends look at him in pity and he understood that they had already been filled in the situation.

But your resolve remained unshaken. "Yeah, I'm sure you love a certain part of me," you muttered under your breath, forcing a smile onto your lips. "Look, we can stay friends, yeah? You're a nice guy, James. And a damn good friend too, I just don’t think you were ever ready for another relationship," you concluded.

James was stunned by your resolve, unsure of how to respond, just feeling defeat. He could see that you had closed off. Trying to maintain some dignity, he nodded in acceptance. "Okay.” He whispered quietly.

“Well then, I guess I'll see you later," you managed to say, as you awkwardly nodded, catching yourself as your hands were mid-air, ready to clasp together the same manner Lily always announced her leave. Instead, you awkwardly held two thumbs up before turning on your heels.

As you walked away from James, a whirlwind of emotions churned within you. On one hand, your heart ached with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings and heartbreak. You had been so in love with James.

On the other hand, somewhere deep down, you knew that the only way to get him to keep wanting you, was by imitating the girl he actually wanted. You had let so many things pass, not wanting to break up with James. But you’d done it. It was over. And you almost felt guilty for feeling so relieved.

Taglist: Some of the tags didn't want to work so sorry if you didn't make the list, the rest will be in a reblog

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@joeytribbiani18 @rafeslovergirl @peacheerries @littlenerdybee @anglfclulu @folksmione @daisydark @moonys0chocolate @fearlessmoony @vcosette

@moonyslibrary98 @poetsneil @olivshe @ihatethinkingofnames10 @petparkr @iamlizardgod @ttkttt @rosieandthethorns @eedwardss @meepmoopmopsworld

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@daisiesformylove @lixzey @uwiuwi @jeansworld16 @v-loves-frogs @liv2post @nokkoongie @tylerstacobell @momdisappointment @jasminesacademia

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter imagine #james potter angst #james potter fluff #james potter fic #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #marauders era #marauder x reader #young james potter x reader

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infictionalwonderland · 10 months

Note

Hey, I hope you’re having a good day! I had an idea, Marvel cast flirting with y/n for x minutes?

. . MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N Y/L/N FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT!

Coming home from an extremely long and stressful day/week was unfortunately something very familiar to you—so familiar that you and your best friend (your not famous best friend who was your pilar through all the chaos fame brought) had created a little routine; she’d send you various videos and links to movies and online books she knew would relax and amuse you.

So, cuddled up in your bed with your pyjamas and your star lights on (a true child at heart, always) you opened up your chats with them and eagerly swiped to see that they’d sent.

‘Marvel Cast Flirting with Y/N Y/L/N For 10 Minutes Straight!’ was the video for tonight.

Immediately you cackled to yourself, hurriedly sending your best friend thanks in the form of ironic emojis and frantic proclamations of undying love, before loading up the (true to prior word) ten minute long video.

Surely this was an exaggeration.

The video began, large letters in a cute font appearing on the dark screen ‘the marvel cast all being in love flirting with y/n for ten minutes’. The quick ‘AS THEY SHOULD’ before the clips started playing made you giggle to yourself.

The first clip was from some years back, you were pretty sure this was a premiere for The Avengers, given how you looked and the quality—you were standing opposite on interview, smile on your face and dressed in a pretty outfit the same colour of your character’s aesthetic.

“How do you feel about your costume?”

Before you could even answer the interviews question, Scarlett intercepted your interview—hair in a short red bob and a smirking grin at her lips as she wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Well I know how we all feel about this ladies costume, it’s a beautiful piece that just makes the women wearing all the more beautiful. If that’s even possible.”

The edit quickly gave Scarlett beating heart eyes for you as she didn’t tear her eyes away from you for a second—making present time you laugh.

With that she kissed your cheek, leaving a red mark of her lipstick and walked away, dramatically winking in your direction.

The second clip was a blooper, from .. Captain America: Civil War, you thought. You were on Sebastian’s shoulders, thighs locked over his head—in character, as your character and his were mid fight.

He stumbled back over a table accidentally and you let out a startled yelp, hands flying to steady yourself in his long hair and one of his landing on your arse cheek to steady you as he steadied himself with the other.

“Is it bad that I’m loving this?”

“SEBA—“

“Cut!”

The third clip was you and Lizzie (Elizabeth Olsen) reacting fan tweets; Lizzie unrolled the piece of paper, her eyes lighting up as she giggled with a little smirk.

“Elizabeth. .” You wearily trailed off, looking at your friend.

“Sorry, sorry. Okay! This tweet says if i could just pretty BEEP please with the juiciest most mouthwatering cherry on top get a not kid friendly scene of Wanda and (Your Character) I could die peacefully, my wish fulfilled. I implore you marvel, listen to your dying fan.”

“That tweet had over fifty thousand likes as well.” A feminine voice added in from behind the camera, laughter in her tone.

You and Lizzie turned to each other at the same time, grinning.

“I mean the fan is dying babe. .”

“Right? We should totally make this happen, like, totally.” She gave you a cheeky once over, eyes appreciating all of you. “Because it was the fans wish, not mine, duh.” Lizzie added.

“Mhm.” You hummed with a smirk.

The fourth clip was a evidently some sort of ‘guess the body part’ game: a photo of what you were pretty sure was your bottom half was the picture currently used for guessing, in the picture you were leaned over in a pair of yoga pants and in your personal opinion, you looked good. Well, your arse looked good (amazing, otherworldly—you humbly added)

Lizzie was the first person to answer, the video showing each persons turn one by one and immediately she said, “that’s my girl. Y/N.” Then giggling she added, “now get my girls booty off the screen, I don’t need you all ogling her. We get enough of that, sometimes causes a strain on us. But we’ve remained strong together.”

Paul Rudd was next and he stared at the picture of you for a few solid seconds, “it’s Y/N.” He sheepishly admitted. He pointed an accusing finger dramatically towards the camera—“I only know this because of all the edits you guys make!”

“You don’t have to watch them.” The interviewer pointed out innocently; Paul pouted, grumbling.

Next was Anthony who instantly answered, “That’s Y/N right here!” He hyped you up, grinning. “Don’t even try and make it creepy, we do glutes together man, it’s why we’re the best asses in the cast. Up top!” Anthony exclaimed, holding his hand up towards the picture as if pretending to high five you or something—the interviewer timidly gave him a high five.

Sebastian was next as you (and everyone) watch his eyes flicker and grin that was more of a smirk spread across his cheeks, “that’s definitely y/n.” He assumed instantly. “Would’ve been able to tell you that blindfolded.”

“But—“

“I’d have just sensed her.” Sebastian giggled.

Chris Evans was next—a grin picked up on his face immediately, eyes trained on the photo of you and he ran a hand over his beard, lightly biting his lip (HEELLLOOO????)

“That’s Y/n.” Chris stated confidently, smirking lightly and the camera caught some of the team in line of sight exchange raised eyebrows.

The fifth clip was of Brie Larson who was being interviewed on some sort of premiere event again—presumably or her (marvellous) movie, Captain Marvel, smiling at the interviewer.

“Out of all of the people on the Marvel Cast, those who you’ve met, do you have a favourite out of them?” The interview questioned.

“I’m not really one for favourites but I would definitely say I’m closest to Y/n! She’s—she’s just so lovely and funny and she’s like a ray of sunshine, honestly. She’s been a great help in the filming process as well, she coached me through everything with so patience—I would’ve strangled me if I was her, but no, she just had that adorable smile on her face. She’s truly an amazing person and a better friend than I thought possible.” Brie answered enthusiastically with a soft smile.

“Awwww! We love to hear that—are any of the rumours about her true?”

Brie blinked, seeming taken aback for a brief moment— “Yes she does smell amazing, she’s always effortlessly beautiful, she’s unfailingly hilarious and yes no one in this world deserves her. But like. . if she’s open to it,” Brie paused, winking at the camera and making a call me sign with her hands and mouthing the words with a flirty grin.

The sixth clip was of you, Tom Holland, RDJ, Paul Bettany, Zoe Saldana and Pom Klementieff on Jimmy Kimmel, tasked with drawing your characters. The clip started just as you turned around the drawing of your character and well, it was actually surprisingly good in your own opinion—the audience immediately erupted into loud and obnoxious cheers.

“As great as that is, love, it still doenst capture the extent of your beauty.” Tom Holland, who was sat to your left, grinned cheekily at you and the audience practically shouted and hooted.

“Would anything ever?” Zoe shot back from your right side, twirling a lock of your hair affectionately and smiling as she leaned against you.

“I sincerely doubt that anything could.” RDJ piped up, giving you an unapologetic grin when you looked over at him with fond exasperation as the crowd was practically inconsolable in their glee and enthusiasm, shouting out your praises. “Give it up for sunshine, people. Our gorgeous ray of sunshine!”

“I—“

“They are quite right, Y/n.” Paul Bettany spoke over Jimmy who was obviously going to try and calm down his crowd.

The seventh clip started playing: it was a clip taken from Jacob Batalon’s story, clearly in a party setting—the video showed you and Zendaya in the centre of the dance floor, everyone around you clearly watching you both as you danced up against each other to the sounds of Yeah! by Usher.

“Mate I think your girls about to be stole.” The voice of Tom’s friend, Harrison, sounded from beside Jacob and presumably Tom himself and to empathise Harrison’s words, Jacob zoomed in on your faces, wide grins of ecstasy, and the way Zendaya was admiring you.

“Right in public as well, the scandal.” Jacob cackled.

The eighth clip was an interview of Chris Evans and McKenna Grace (you adored that little girl to pieces). The two of them were answering the ‘Webs Most Searched Question’s’ together.

“Who was.. Chris Evans, date at the Oscars?”

McKenna immediately ooed, smiling teasingly and Chris laughed from beside her.

“This is getting juicy!”

“Well, it was my mom one year and then my sister last year—“

“He wishes it was Y/n though.” The little girl laughed with a beaming smile on her lips and you, present time, arched a brow.

Chris bashfully chuckled with a smile and you swore you could see a genuine red hue on his cheeks, “I mean—it’s Y/n. Anyone would be happy to go with her.”

“I would be!” McKenna excitedly exclaimed as she grinned so sweetly you were now going to make sure you took this sweet child with you to the Oscar’s, Chris seemed to melt as well, recovering from his brief flustered moment.

The ninth clip was Sebastian and Anthony reading out their thirst tweets in a Buzzfeed interview, the clip started as Sebastian was pulling out a tweet from the large bucket.

He read it to himself and blushed faintly, Anthony’s eyebrows practically reaching his forehead as he tried to lean over and read it but Sebastian jokingly shoved him back.

“Oh for—That scene where (Your Character) chokes baby Bucky out with her thighs, his—his head all up in there; the shit I would give to be her, I would give my soul, my fridge, my moms purse, my dads golf clubs. Please, sir. Put your face between my legs like you did Y/n.”

By the end of the tweet, Sebastian had a deeply awkward and slightly perturbed look on his face and Anthony cackled at his side.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he was more than happy with it being Y/n, wouldn’t change it even for your dads golf clubs.” Anthony laughed.

“That’s. . I’m gonna have to decline that, um, respectfully.” Sebastian spoke in regards to the tweet, ignoring Anthony.

In turn, Anthony ignored Sebastian as well and just dramatically kept winking at the camera.

The tenth clip was Cobie Smulders, who was being interviewed on some sort of carpet event, smile on her face as she spoke to the interviewer before her.

“How does it feel knowing that the lesbian community, myself included, are firmly rooting for your character, Maria and Y/N’s character (Your Character) to end up together?”

Cobie’s smile turned genuinely delighted, “I love it—we love it. Y/n and I actually have made so many PowerPoints and presented them to the Russo brothers, but alas. I do really want to end up with her—oops, sorry, wait. I really want my character to end with hers. . would be the appropriate wording. But I’m all for inappropriate if Y/n wants.”

Cobie jokingly bit her lip at the camera and you, watching the video, could not contain your laughter as the interviewer practically burst out with excitement.

The eleventh clip was a blooper from your filming of the avengers—you were standing next to Chris Hemsworth who had an arm around your waist, holding you to him as in the scene his character, Thor, flies the both of you away. But Chris quickly tugged you in front of him and began tickling you mercilessly, hysterical giggles falling from your lips as the people around you laughed as well.

“Chris, HAVE MERCY!”

“Aw, but I enjoy hearing your laughter. It’s a very pretty sound.” Chris laughed to himself, finally stopping his attack and letting you slump against his, back to his front. “I particularly like this as well.” He smirked down at you.

“CHRI—“

In the twelfth clip, you and Tessa Thompson were reading out thirst tweets together: “The feminine urge to fall asleep cuddled into Y/n’s boobs is too real, pls come here mommy.” You read out, giggling all the while.

“The urge is so strong.” Tess commented, nodding her add as she sneakily glanced at your chest with a innocent smile.

“Come here, baby.” You joked, laughing as you opened your arms for her and she practically leaped into them, resting her head on your chest.

“I’m living the dreams of millions right now and it feels amazing.” Tessa gloated jokingly, pulling away from you with only final squeeze and a little wink the camera caught.

“I concur.” You grinned back.

The thirteenth clip was you and Tom Hiddleston, talking with an interviewer on a carpet event. His arm was around your waist and both of you were wearing smiles greeting the interviewer.

“So, obviously, you both act in marvel movies, but not really close together! If you could, would you want to work more closely and have you characters be more involved?”

“I absolutely would.” Tom immediately replied with an honest, heartwarming smile. “And personally, it’s not even a fact of our characters being intertwined it’s more that working this fantastic woman beside me is a gift I have come to deeply cherish, truly it’s an honour. And I suppose, if our characters were to get involved, so to speak, that I would enjoy that because this is the y/n y/l/n, I’d be a mad man not to want that.” He finished charmingly.

You grinned, taking a bow, and both Tom and the interviewer laughed before that clip cut as well.

The fourteenth clip was at Comic-Con, mostly everyone on the cast had already been called out and taken their seats and then your name was called, the audience erupting into loud cheers.

Sebastian, who was sat next to your assigned seat, hopped and and jogged over to offer you his arm as you grinned and waved at everyone—the crowd screaming louder at his actions.

The screams only increased as Chris Evans and Don Cheadle got up to pull out your chair for you to sit down in—you pretended to swoon into Sebastian before kissing all of their cheeks and taking your seat.

“Where was the treatment for me?” RDJ joked.

“Man, they’re just whipped. But, like, who isn’t for Y/n?” Anthony stage whispered back to him and the crowd literally roared in excitement.

The fifteenth clip was Aaron Taylor-Johnson being interviewed with Lizzie for the Age of Ultron press, most probably.

“So, Aaron, obviously your character—spoilers, sorry—isn’t with us anymore but if you had the chance to explore Pietro more, who would you have wanted to explore a romance with?”

“(Your Character) definitely, Y/N.” Aaron answered with a little sheepish grin at the speed and Lizzie giggled into her palm.

“I’m not making fun, I agree, for myself.” Lizzie commented unprompted.

“Why is that?” The interviewer questioned.

“Why—mate, I think it’s pretty obvious. Y/n is such a stunning person, inside and out, I would have loved to—and obviously her character is extremely sick and I’m certain the relationship between her and Pietro would’ve been the stuff of legends but. . come on, Y/n Y/l/n is my real reason.” Aaron joked.

“Get your own girl, she’s mine.” Lizzie glared.

There were still many minutes left of the video left and that alone astounded you; overcome with cackles, you forwarded the video the your Marvel groupchat—so yall bitches like obsessed with me or sum 🥰🥰🥰

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imthatqueerkid · 1 year

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#crush blogging day 47 #for December 21st #went over to his house after therapy #we made dinner and wrapped presents and i could actually eat a normal amount! woo hoo!#then in true us fashion we cuddled while playing 'guess that tune: Christmas edition'#various family members kept walking in on us whoopsies #he made hot chocolate and burned the milk and made a huge mess #then we read picture books together which took a substantial amount of time to actually begin #his mom gave me a gift and believe it or not it triggered me! because wtf im not used to a partner whose family likes me #and it made me disassociate for a hot second #his brother and my best friend got home and third wheeled us for about a minute but got bored #we read more books but it was late and i had to get home #fast forward to us standing on my porch #doing that stupidly desperate thing we do #his glasses were off and i looked up at him and i realized- oh my God. we are about to kiss.#and i wanted to. i really did.#but i was wearing green lipstick (he didn't care he would have definitely kissed me anyway)#and i was scared (he did care about that)#so we agreed that can wait but oh god i adore him so much #i want him. like in a dumb hormonal teenager way snd thats scary and new #hes so wonderful ughhhhhhh #fire boy #from the couch #Spotify

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strange-aeons · 10 months

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you remember how the onion man said that everything is his books were real? and also that in his (third??) book a documentary on a dinosaur-human hybrid was shown to him as a child, causing him so much trauma that he learnt how to astral project? well i think ive found the documentary.

so i have been reading a book on evolution for school and this book talks about a canadian palaeontologist called Dale A. Russell came up with the ‘dinosauroid’ this as a thought experiment. the idea was that if dinosaurs had never been wiped out, would a non-mammalian human like bipedal, intelligent thing have evolved and what would it have looked like.

so this was theorised in 1982 making it definitely the right age for this to have been the thing that traumatised ole greggy-poo. what did it look like to terrify such an alpha you may ask?

as far as i know, the only documentary that has come out about this was discovery channel, paleoworld ‘troodon: dinosaur genius’ released in 1995, when onion was ~10. the full thing is up on youtube (skip to 18:45 for The Creature) and i think it might be the very video that gave greg the ability to astral project.

thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

Oh my god????????

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strawberryspence · 2 years

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I will never not be OBSESSED with the Famous trope + Found Family trope with the Party 😭 The headlines would be so chaotic? Like:

Famous Rockstar Eddie Munson is seen eating lunch with two time Pulitzer winner Nancy Wheeler, Highest Paid Photographer Jonathan Byers and Successful Entrepreneur Argyle Alvez. How does he know these people???

Three time Grammy Winner Eddie Munson seen in a McDonald's with World Renowned Astronaut Dustin Henderson and New York Times Best Seller Will Byers-Wheeler and Mike Byers-Wheeler. What the actual fuck???

Eddie Munson, seen in a Chicago Bulls game looking confused as hell, mere seconds after finding out his second album just went Multi-platinum, with his husband, Steve Munson. Also seen in pictures, Eddie Munson hugging point guard Lucas Sinclair and his wife, Max Sinclair. How???

MSG Sold Out Performer Eddie Munson seen in Chicago Medical Center with World Renowned Surgeon Dr. Erica Sinclair. Our insiders say that the rockstar is FINE and was only having lunch with the doctor. What in the multiverse is happening???

Eddie Munson and his husband seen in line at the book signing of rising Linguistics Author Robin Buckley. They ended up laughing so hard when they reached the author, they almost got kicked out. Turns out they all knew each other???

Rock Star Eddie Munson bringing packed lunch in pajamas to a small Chicago preschool where husband, Steve Munson and known friend, Jane Hopper works. Why??? How??? What???

Third most followed person on Instagram Eddie Munson, just broke the internet by posting a group picture with Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley, Jonathan Byers, Argyle Alvez, Dustin Henderson, Lucas, Max and Erica Sinclair, Mike and Will Byers-Wheeler, his husband Steve Munson and family friend Jane Hopper. HOW DO THEY ALL KNOW EACH OTHER?! WHAT A WEIRD GROUP?!

The more people speculate, the more they say shit. Like people ask them how they know each other and they all just throw out the weirdest answers.

Nancy gets asked in a press conference how she knows Rock Star Eddie Munson? Nancy answers with, "I was driving myself to California when I was 19 and I picked him up as a hitch hiker along the way. We’ve been friends since then."

Robin gets asked in a lecture how she knows the Sinclair Clan? Robin answers with, "I go way back with Dr. Erica. She once saved me from Russian Doctors trying to cut my toe nails."

Eddie goes on an interview in National TV and the host asks how he's friends with Argyle and Jon? Eddie answers with, "I got kidnapped by a killer clown when I was 17. They saved me by crushing the clown's still beating heart with their own bare hands."

Steve gets bombarded with questions online of how he knows Nancy, Robin, Jon, Argyle and even Eddie (his husband)? Steve answers with, "We were stuck in detention every Saturday when we were in senior year. We all became friends when Eddie Munson started singing Don't You (Forget About Me)."

Will and Mike gets asked in an interview about their friendship with Basketball Star, Lucas Sinclair? Will says, “Lucas once gave my dog CPR, ultimately, saving it’s life and we’ve been friends since then.” and Mike just goes, “Who???”

Erica once got asked how she knew Genius Astronaut, Dustin Henderson. Erica rolls her eyes, “That boy owes me his life. Ask him, not me.”

Dustin gets asked how he knows Eddie Munson. Dustin goes with, “Eddie once saved me from a feral army of bats and almost died. I’ve never let go of him since then.” The fans think this one might actually be true, they’ve seen the scars on Eddie, they’ve got theories and Dustin just gave them a puzzle piece.

Argyle got asked in a Business Magazine how he knows this weird, interconnected group. Argyle says, “Oh dude! Those are my life long friends! It started with a pizza van, a dead man, and a road trip to Utah. There was also a bald girl involved. In the end, the real treasure really is the friends we make along the way.”

Jonathan gets asked how he knows Eddie Munson. Jon gives the softest, sweetest smile and says, “We were in a satanic cult together.”

Jane Hopper gets asked once in public (how she knows all these famous people), someone filmed it and it went viral on Twitter. El says, verbatim, “Oh. It all started when I was kidnapped by an evil scientist who tested stuff on me like I was a lab rat. Long story short, they saved my life and they are my family.” By then people already don’t believe any of them because they all give out the most ridiculous answers. Hopper still grounds her for that even though she doesn’t live with him anymore. (Owens, who hasn't called them in 15 years, reached out with a warning).

→ Current Additions: Lucas Lie Detector & Max's Future (Scroll down the link)

#people will be speculating #but they wont say shit #steddie rants #dae writes #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things headcanons #steddie headcanons #steddie #stranger things #the party #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things rants #daeheadcanons

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complete-clownery · 5 months

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Hahaha okay rant about this amazing fanfic (you probably heard of this one already but still)

So whenever it comes to explaining and writing under my posts I just get lazy but I need to push through this cuz I need to talk

So the fanarts were made for the lmk fanfiction sunbreak, that a lot of you (probably mostly shadowpeach shippers) had read, and it is amazing, I read trough it as fast as my brain let me and as you can see it has pleasantly scratched my brain so much so that I even (attempted) to make fanart for it

Ngl if I wasn't a major pussy I would try to illustrate the whole thing or make covers for each chapter but Im unable to work on something more than 2 hours and I would want those to look good, but good looking art (if I don't mess up) takes 6 hours ughh--- annoying much---

Anyways I'm not good with literature but man is this fix a masterpiece *chefs kiss* its everything its amazing, I was unable to put it down once I started it

Okay i dont think I have the brain capacity to explain how much I worship the writer of this masterpiece @ladygreenfrisbee , so i'm just going to talk about the drawings a tad

So first picture with Red Son and MK its sort of like an au in the fic where the whole lbd plot is somehow nonexistent and after Macaque gets to his sisters domain they settle down and raise the kids together without much of an issue aside from assassinations keep happening and trying not to get in trouble with the heavens

Id like to think that Gongzhu still wouldn't let the court tailors to put any form of red or gold on MKs outfits and only allowed the yellow after when MK was old enough to declare that yellow was his favorite color, but even now she would insist on some form of purple and shadow motives to let others know who the mother is

We also got baby MK and toddler Red Son and sassy LIF and Mac

Third pic with the lion: I don't know what it was or why but I just love general Song so much--- he's a major dickhead but sgvshshsevkdididhr (actually I kinda love all the original characters in this one, from the generals to the old lady in the beginning of the book, (gosh I also wanna draw some scenes from those chapters I loved how Mac and she interacted hshsjsj))

so chapter 34 was probably my favorite so far I re read it about two more times cuz it was amazing to see Macaque being the schemer he is and try to piss of Song lol

Last picture: its a sketch/a wip or whatever (probably not going to finish it but im still putting it there cuz its somewhat decent looking)

Its the part where Wukong remembered of Macaque finally finding him and asking for him to come back to flower fruit mountain.

I tried to make Macaque look more unhinged on this one but since I didn't finish it I dont think its that noticable so fuck that but I also gave him a halo like the saints to symbolise his suffering and what not (thought it looked cool and fitting think whatever you want about it lol)

And that all ((((hollly mother))))

If you read this trough, thank you and congrats👏👏

#clown does art #lego monkey kid #lmk sunbreak #sunbreak #shadowpeach #lmk macaque #six eared macaque #lmk mk #lmk red son #fanfiction #lmk #lmk pif #princess iron fan

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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 20 days

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THE HISTORY BOOK ON THE SHELF. ( HOTD x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: King Aegon ii Targaryen x Targaryen! Little Sister! Reader prompt: When the small council plans to marry off once again, you turn to your older brother for help. word count: 1, 000+ words

You were the youngest and third daughter of Alicent and Viserys. A few months younger than Helaena and Aegon's little shadow in your childhood. Your older brother at first hated it, the way you cling onto him and gawk at him with an innocent awe.

It was your ninth name day, your Father had not paid much attention to it, but your Mother had ordered a celebration for it. You had trailed after him, babbling about nonsense as he tried to lose you. It was at dinner that night that everything had boiled over. Instead of receiving gifts, you had taken to giving everyone a gift.

He had not expected anything. He hadn't been the most kind to you. But was surprised when you had gifted him an embroidered cloth with Sunfyre on it. It was not the best and some threads were loose, but you proudly had told him you learned embroidery for him. Seeing those big doe eyes of yours his opinion changed. He adored you. You were the only one in the family that did not care about his worsening reputation. You just...adored your big brother, flaws and all.

It was why it killed him on your eleventh name day you were shipped off to the Reach, married off to a Lord as old as your Grandsire. He was haunted by your wails, of the way you clung onto Helaena and Aemond, the two of them wailing as Ser Cole carried you off to the carriage.

His young sister, the only one in the family who truly cared, was sold off like a piece of cattle. Not even your cold Grandsire was able to protest the marriage as politically it was a good match and good enough reasoning for the small council to approve it.

As years ticked by, you gave birth to two children, a stillborn daughter and a healthy son. Your husband kept you away in the Reach, so no one in your family had seen you since you were twelve and given birth to your only surviving son.

He remembered the look in your eyes, so void and almost dead. Of how you tried to stay positive. Saying, "Tis' not so bad. He mostly ignores me, except when he wishes to bed me. But even then tis' not so bad, he finishes quickly."

When he became King, he swiftly ordered you to return home, regardless of your husband's wishes. No one would take his baby sister away from him. Not whilst he was still alive and had the crown placed upon his head.

Watching you bounce your son on your lap, he attempts to pay some attention to the small council, but his eyes keep straying back to you. It was odd to think that you were now a Mother and all grown up. Snapping out of his little daze, he glances back at the small council, each member arguing intently. Furrowing his brows in confusion, Ser Criston slides a piece of parchment in front of him, an uncomfortable look on his face. Raising a brow at what he had just returned to, he glances at the parchment, reading the words quickly.

Your cunt of a husband was dead, finally croaked in his sleep. There was no reason for you to go back to the Reach. You could stay here in King’s Landing once more. Softly smiling at the good news, he goes to speak up when Lord Lannister stands up from his chair, slamming his hands down on the table. His face red from anger, his eyes wild like an untamable beast, and voice booming loud enough that it would make a dragon’s roar put to shame.

“To speak of the Princess in such a manner is dishonorable, I will see to it personally that your tongue is removed, Lord Wydle.”

“The girl is of age, she has proven she can bear heirs, healthy heirs. To not give her hand to another Lord would be foolish.”

“We need allies, the common folk are starving and soon the coin will run out. Surely as Master of Coin you can see reason, Lord Lannister.”

“Your grace, please, listen to reason we should⎯”

It takes a moment to realize what they had been discussing so intently. Then it clicks, they were speaking of having you remarry.

"What?" He whispers, his voice shaky and full of disbelief.

"No, Aegon, please don't make me do this again. Please." You whisper, tears building up in your eyes.

"It would be best to have your sister marry someone⎯"

"Think of the war, your grace⎯"

Seeing the tears building up in your eyes, it reminded him of all those years ago when you were whisked away to the Reach. Struggling to speak up and dismiss their suggestions, you kneel in front of his chair, gripping onto breeches as you beg and plead for clemency to their plans. Your son starts to wail on the other side of his chair, making motions with his hands to be picked up.

Feeling his heart break a little at the sight, he shifts his gaze from you then your wailing son then back to the small council. Everything is hectic and he doesn’t know who or what to focus his attention on. Does he console you? Does he tend to your wailing son? Does he handle the small council? Struggling to find his voice, he just stays frozen in his chair.

“Please, please, do not make me do this again, Aegon.” You beg, “I did what was asked of me before. Please do not ask this of me again.”

“We need allies, your grace. The Princess is still desired by many men, men who will look past her past marriage and son. Think of the kingdom⎯”

“Send treaties, then!”

“Please, Aegon. I ask your sister, not a member of the Court. Please do not make me do this again.” You beg, your voice cracking.

Watching as the tears begin to fall from your eyes, he clenches his jaw tightly, anger boiling up at the sight of you. His precious little sister, the one person in all of the Realm that he truly cared for, was crying by his small council's hand. Slamming his hands down hard on the table, the room goes deadly silent, minus the soft sniffles of you and your son.

“There will be no marrying off my sister! If you wish for such alliances as much as you claim, do offer your daughters instead, for I will not be doing the same to my sister nor my daughter.”

“Your grace, if you would just⎯”

“I am King, no?” He snaps back, “There will be no questioning of my decision. The matter is settled.”

----

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

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bloompompom · 17 days

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Always the Quiet Ones*

*this is a revamped reupload of my previous fic

✽ summary: eren mistakenly took his new lab partner for being quiet, only to discover she was so much more than that. ✽ content: ~12.5k word count. eren jaeger x female reader, college au, one shot, mutual pining, smut, fluff, casual sex, praise, light spanking, explicit consent, alcohol, explicit language, explicit sexual content, reader discretion advised. 18+ ✽ a/n: i just really missed this fic </3

It was the honest-to-God truth when Eren said he wasn’t looking to catch feelings for anyone. But then you came along.

You were harmless enough—nothing more than his quiet lab partner in anatomy. He didn’t know what to think of you, other than you had a tendency to keep to yourself. On the rare occasion you spoke up, your words were always brief, pertinent to whatever assignment was at hand. But more often than not, you’d only address Eren with a cursory nod when he’d take his assigned seat beside you.

The class was awful enough, with two-hour labs being the worst part of Eren’s week because he spent them in a fumbling and awkward silence. But if you wouldn’t bother to glance up from your book when you talked to him, then he would treat you the same. He brought the bare minimum to conversations. He gave one-word answers; a specific grunt for yes, another for no, each you had to learn.

He couldn’t help but wonder why you were, for lack of better words, like that. Quiet. Standoffish. Withdrawn. He had a few theories on the matter—only because lectures were just that boring. His most probable theory was that you were shy. That would make the most sense, wouldn’t it?

Perhaps you were the type of student who took her classes way too seriously. He guessed you to be in your third year, like him. Maybe you were trying to get into a competitive graduate program. Or maybe you really liked anatomy. You seemed to like the textbook an awful lot, always reading far too closely in the way nerds do in cartoons. But other times, it was almost as if you were avoiding looking him in the eye.

Then there were the days—usually when Eren felt particularly disgruntled—that your quietness irked him to no end. He knew it was irrational to care so much, but damn it, why were you like that? And all the time, too. You must be stuck up. What else could he blame your perpetually cold shoulder on? He wasn’t proud of it, but sometimes he believed you were a bitch. Simple as that.

Eren’s theories could go on and on, but they all skirted the truth. At least, you didn’t think yourself a bitch. No, the reason behind your reserved demeanor was much more straightforward than that.

You had a stupid crush on Eren.

A girlish, twirling-your-hair-around-your-finger middle school crush. That made your stomach feel hollow and full, somehow at once, and had you gushing to your roommate despite knowing you’d never act on it.

It’d been like this since last semester, though you weren’t even sure Eren knew of your existence until Professor Hange partnered up the two of you.

God. Thinking about it now still riddled you with anxiety. You swore up and down that you were going to die that day. Like actually keel over from a heart attack in the middle of class and die.

In another universe, perhaps this forced proximity would have excited you. Maybe he would have given you his phone number to text about homework, and in that universe, you would have been giddy over it.

Unfortunately for you, in this universe, anatomy was far from your strongest subject. Very, very far.

You drove yourself mad over all the ways you’d inevitably embarrass yourself in front of Eren, lab after lab. It terrified you to where you wouldn’t dare ask him a question. What if you sounded dumb? So you’d press on without having him repeat himself and only scribble down what little you could manage.

It was despicable. It was despicable, and you knew it, and you still didn’t change a thing because it was much easier to pretend Eren wasn’t there to begin with. Even if it meant you’d started seeing your grade slip.

You hoped to keep that—and your crush—a secret, but there was one day he got a bit too nosy for your liking.

Professor Hange handed your lab report back, face down, like always. You knew professors did that for everyone, no matter the grade, but sometimes the rule felt targeted at you.

You didn’t want to, but you forced yourself to peel back the corner and take a peek. Unsurprisingly, a lousy grade met you on the other side. Again.

For someone wanting to hide their score, you weren’t as careful as you should have been when sliding the paper into your folder. Eren leaned back in his seat, just far enough to steal a glimpse from over your shoulder. For research, obviously. If you liked anatomy so much, then you must be pretty good at the subject.

But what he saw surprised him, especially when thought about his grade in the class. It slipped out on a chuckle when he said, “Wow. Are you even writing anything down?”

You startled, slamming your folder shut. “Huh?”

You couldn’t tell if Eren was joking or not. He was, but it didn’t come across as lighthearted as he had hoped. He often let his thoughts carelessly spill into words, but you didn’t know about that nasty habit of his. All you could think was shit, because he had finally figured out that you had no idea what you were doing.

Admittedly, Eren felt a little guilty once he saw the panic wash over your face. He cracked a smile at you, maybe for the first time. Still, his eyebrows furrowed in pity, like he couldn’t hold it back.

“The lab,” Eren clarified. He pointed to the crumpled paper, half in the folder, half poking out. “We do them together every week. How are you screwing up that badly?”

What kind of question was that? You gave him a hard frown and regretted thinking he’d be anything more than curt with you. Pity brows or not, you weren’t feeling much sympathy from him.

You didn’t reply, just stared past him blankly as you imagined how this horrible moment would torment you as you tried to fall asleep that night. You only snapped from it when you heard his chair drag against the tile. He sighed—a bit too loudly for you to consider natural—then started putting his belongings into his backpack.

“Look,” Eren began. He glanced up at you once he’d zipped his bag shut. His eyes made you flighty. “You don’t have to get stuck with a shitty grade. I bet I can help.”

His voice was flat, and you didn’t like his delivery much, but beneath it, there was a glint of kindness. You weren’t sure where it came from, and frankly, neither did Eren. He attributed it to his guilt for speaking so thoughtlessly. It was hard not to, what with the way your face—always so stoic that he’d think you were made of marble—turned sullen. He didn’t like how it made him feel. More than that, he disliked knowing you could pull such a reaction from him.

“You still have my number, yeah?” Eren asked.

You nodded. You did, in fact, still have his phone number. It was in the top corner of the first page of your notebook. He wrote it down after your first class together like you hoped he would. You decided not to do anything with it. You didn’t even save it, too worried about the possibility of drunk texting him.

“Good,” he said. “We can meet up sometime to study together.”

“Okay, yeah. Thanks,” you said, quietly at first, but your confidence grew with each word when you realized this might not have to become one of your top ten most embarrassing memories.

“Sure.” Eren stood up and swung his backpack over his shoulder. He smiled at you again. It was real this time, big enough to make your stomach flip. “I can’t let my lab partner flunk out on me.”

So that was where everything began. And by ‘everything,’ you meant how you and Eren would study together occasionally. Nothing more. Definitely not the fun sort of studying—you know, like having him study your anatomy rather than the pictures in his textbook. Oh, well. You could still dream.

It took two study dates (your term for them) before you didn’t sit on the edge of your seat around Eren. As lame as it sounded, he made you incredibly nervous, more nervous than you felt around him in class. And like in class, you tried your hardest to keep your eyes on your text. You knew if you looked at him, you’d turn into a pile of goo before you could even look away.

It was shameful to admit, but you’d catch yourself stealing glances at him, but only when you were certain he wouldn’t notice. The times when he was jotting down notes because you liked how he looked when he was pensive. His dark brows would sit low over his eyes, and his bottom lip would jut out ever so slightly. And sometimes, only when truly stumped, he’d run his fingers through his hair in thought. You liked that, too.

By the time midterms had come and gone, you started seeing Eren more and more, meeting outside of class twice a week—a third if you had a report due. By then, it was impossible to allow your heart to flutter every time you were around him, otherwise it was bound to give out.

What you wanted to call study dates quickly became what felt like tutoring lessons. And just to be clear, you were not the tutor. But after Eren had you convinced his willingness to help was genuine, you didn’t worry as much about sounding dumb. He never seemed bothered when he had to explain a topic, even if you went overboard with the questions.

It was nice to not have to think so hard around him. He’d poke fun at you because you always mixed up dorsal and ventral, and you never let him live down spelling ‘brain’ as ‘brian.’ “It was one time,” he’d always complain back to you.

After getting scolded one too many times in the library for goofing off, other spots around campus had to make do. Then that turned into you going to Eren’s place, just a five-minute walk from your lab building.

Eren lived in a house with three other boys. Jean, Connie, and Armin. You found Jean and Connie to be nice enough based on the handful of conversations you had with them. But Eren blamed them for the reason you didn’t study at the house often, accusing them of being too distracting to think straight.

Eren wouldn’t ever tell you this—hell, he couldn’t think of anyone he’d confess this to—but the real reason he didn’t like to study at his place was Armin.

Armin. Eren’s blonde best friend for the last ten years. His roommate that you would describe as cute as a button and sharp as a tack. He knew much more about anatomy than you and Eren. When Armin was bored, he’d join you on the couch and answer the questions Eren couldn’t.

He couldn’t pinpoint why it bothered him so much. He always knew Armin was smarter than him; it had never been a problem before, but now it irked him ceaselessly. Instead of trying to sort it out, he decided going to your apartment was the better solution. Your roommate, Hitch, was more tolerable.

It was near final exam week when it hit you, a smack-across-the-face reminder that you still had a crush on Eren. It happened when your study dates became less of a one-on-one thing and more like a group hangout.

You were friendly, something between classmates and acquaintances, with the peers sitting around you. One girl, Mina, told you she, Thomas, and Samuel were getting together to prepare for the upcoming final. She insisted you and Eren should join.

You didn’t respond right away. You couldn’t, not with the way your stomach churned when Eren answered for you.

“She needs all the help she can get,” he said, giving you a playful pay on the shoulder. He was only joking, but you wished he didn’t sound so eager. You especially wished his hand, innocently placed on your back, didn’t make your face burn.

You got over it quickly. It was difficult to stay bitter at people you got along well with, so much so that you’d accomplish more chatting than studying. Luckily for the rest of you, Eren and Thomas knew enough to help you skate by.

But when Eren began texting in the new group chat more than he’d text you, you weren’t afraid to say you noticed a sting. It felt like you’d let your chances with him slip by because, next semester, you wouldn’t be his lab partner anymore.

You left the exam feeling okay at best. You walked out with your head down, not paying any attention as Mina caught up to you. She invited you to come by her place that Friday night, that some of your classmates would be there to celebrate the end of Professor Hange’s pop quizzes. You thought little about it when you said yes.

You were at the get-together for an hour, maybe longer, when someone was drunk enough to start a game of Never Have I Ever. After your second beer, you felt just adventurous enough to play.

Mina’s living room was on the smaller side for hosting, but it was nice enough. She had everyone crowd around, sitting where they could, whether it was on the sofa or the floor, and in the center was an old beer. It’d warmed from sitting out for a few hours, according to Samuel, and chugging it would serve as punishment for putting the last of your fingers down. And while you were tipsy, you certainly hadn’t drunk enough for that.

You would, of course. But you didn’t know it then.

You sat on the floor, legs folded to your chest, with your hand growing tired in the air. Only your index finger remained standing when Mina shouted it was her turn.

“Never have I ever had a body count higher than five,” she announced.

A few people put a finger down, but it didn’t matter. You let your forehead drop to your knees in defeat. Everyone started laughing, hounding you to drink the beer when you whined, “Do I have to?”

If you weren’t busy downing that lukewarm can, pouting as you went, and your audience wasn’t too busy heckling you, maybe someone would have noticed how Eren went quiet, how a firm crease formed just between his unsettled brows.

He couldn’t articulate the feeling, but it reminded him of the one he got when he saw you laugh with Armin. Some strange burning, uncomfortably deep in his stomach. It made him not want to look at you any longer.

Your body count didn’t offend him. After all, he had to put a finger down for the same reason. Though you surprised him, he had to admit, but that wasn’t new. The more he learned about you, the more he realized his assumptions about you couldn’t have been more off—specifically the ones about you being a bitch and good at anatomy.

Eren studied you from across the room. Your nose crinkled; giggles spilled from you as you tried, for the second time, to finish the rest of the beer. Eren had heard you laugh—many times, actually—but something about it always made his chest go tight.

His thoughts ventured further, wandering, wondering if you crinkle your nose the same way when you come.

He could see you beneath him, naked. Brows pinched together cutely, teeth dipped into your swollen bottom lip. He could feel your thighs under his hands, soft and giving under his palms as he slipped between—

It was so wrong of him. To be in a room full of people and pretend as if you were the only two people there. The only two people to exist.

That swarming in his gut burned hotter. He took another sip of his beer like it would dull it.

There was a moment of doubt. Almost like a hangnail, he could pick and pick at it until he created a wound of his own making. What was so wrong with him that made you uninterested?

He could deny naming the sick feeling as much as he wanted, but Eren knew what it was: insecurity. He was jealous of people he didn’t even know, for no other reason than they had the chance to be with you in all the ways he craved.

He felt fucking pathetic for it.

Eren didn’t stay at the party long after that. You left Mina’s just before midnight and didn’t think of much of that night, or Eren, for the rest of the weekend. On Monday, you checked your final grade for anatomy, and by some miracle, you passed the class.

It was well into winter break when you saw Eren again. You bumped into him at a house party, when there was about a week left until classes started and everyone was trickling back to campus to celebrate the new year.

You didn’t expect to see him this soon—actually, you weren’t so sure you’d ever see him again. Anatomy was the only glue holding you together. You wished you could say you had more faith in the friendship, in him, but he hadn’t talked to you since Mina’s party. You thought he would have at least been curious to know how you did in the class.

It was probably better this way, you told yourself, considering you nearly failed the class because of him. Well, you technically passed because of him too, but you wouldn’t have needed to worry about failing if he wasn’t your lab partner.

All that for a silly crush.

You stumbled into Eren toward the end of the night, the time when parties turn spacey and liminal; the limbo dividing night and day. A few lights were on now, and whoever was in charge of the music had clearly given up a while ago. Everything was a not-so-subtle sign pointing toward the exit.

Believe it or not, you wanted nothing more than to go home. You would have been out of there thirty minutes ago if it weren’t for Hitch. Your loveable, yet self-proclaimed ditzy roommate had disappeared.

By the time you thought to search for her, you had already drunk past your limit. You were dizzy, starving, and having poked your head into every room and around every corner. No Hitch, but you walked in on a lot of dry humping.

The last time you saw her, she was one of those dry humpers. She was all over some guy you guessed to be the reason she wanted to come to the party. Anyway, you were sure you’d catch his name tomorrow morning.

You were too distracted, too bubbly from the leftover New Year’s champagne, to see what was in front of you—even if he was rather tall, broad, and hard to miss. You didn’t even look twice as you walked past Eren. He’d only grabbed your attention once you heard your name, disappointed that the voice was too deep to belong to Hitch.

You spun around and the floor tilted with you. It took you a few steps to straighten back out, but once you did, your vision settled on Eren.

He gave you a lop-sided smile, serving as nothing more than a hesitant greeting. He only made it more awkward by throwing in a cheeky, “Long time, no see.”

You offered a chuckle that was only half-forced, the other half genuine simply because it was easy to impress anyone after they’d spent the night drinking.

And because you’d spent the night drinking, you felt all weird when you looked at Eren. You weren’t upset with him—maybe disappointed. Not disappointed in him exactly, he never owed you his kindness, but disappointed by what could have been.

But now that he was here, getting shoved closer and closer with each passerby, you didn’t know what to think other than you should’ve skipped that last drink. You’d hoped to feel more like yourself the next time you saw Eren. The last thing you wanted was to get tangled up in him again; you weren’t sure you’d be able to unravel yourself a second time.

Eren took a willing pace toward you. Your gaze was boozy, eyes hazy and distant. He recognized the look and had a feeling you wouldn’t speak first, so he asked, “Were you looking for someone?”

“Hitch,” you said. There was a pause. You weren’t sure if he remembered he’d met her. “My roommate.”

“I know.”

“We were supposed to leave to get food, but I think she took a guy home,” you told him, for no reason in particular. “Last time this happened, I walked in on them doing it on the counter.”

Eren laughed, harder once your face winced at the memory, a sight seared into your brain, for sure. “You should really consider finding a new roommate.”

“And in the meantime?”

“You come back to my place,” he said, so casually that you were positive you didn’t hear him right. Your face must have given you away, and he tried to play it off with a shrug. “What’s the big deal? You’ve slept on my couch before.”

He was right. You’d fallen asleep on his couch while studying once. Okay, twice. He teased you about it, saying you got drool everywhere.

“That’s different,” you said sheepishly. “That was an accident.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place,” he teased.

“Maybe you shouldn’t make your flashcards so boring!”

Eren liked his simple flashcards. He actually preferred them. Not everyone needed to spend more time color-coding and highlighting their flashcards than studying them.

He tilted his head with the sort of look that said, stop being so stubborn. "Fine. Then how about you tell me how to make them look nicer on the way to my place? I was just about to leave, anyway.”

He took a step backward, daring you to follow, and then another, until he turned on one foot and headed for the front door. He knew you’d follow him, and thoughtlessly, you did, trailing right behind.

You called out to him, “You don’t really need them now, do you? The class is over.”

“I just thought you might need ‘em.” Eren bounded down the porch steps, tossing a glance over his shoulder, ready to catch the expression you’d make when he said, “Figured you had to retake the class.”

You wished you had shoved him down the steps, but he had already crossed the lawn. He walked with longer strides than you and didn’t seem concerned about whether you could keep up.

“Thanks for that,” you replied begrudgingly.

“Anytime.”

It didn’t take long for you to near campus. You walked along the main drag, lined with various bars and late-night bites that thrived in the college town’s nightlife. It made it impossible to tell the time, what with every club still playing music loud enough to thrum in your chest, its beat perfectly in tempo with your every step—those of which were still struggling to match Eren’s.

“Did you still want to get food?” he asked.

“Hm?” You couldn’t hear him over your shuffling, your feet dragging against the sidewalk. They’d started hurting hours ago, and this jaunt certainly wasn’t making it better. You really shouldn’t have worn the new shoes you received over the holidays.

“You never listen, do you?” Eren didn’t say it with annoyance but with a laugh. “I’m surprised you’ve made it this far.”

“No, you just mumble a lot,” you defended. “And for your information, I’m not retaking anatomy. I passed with a C.”

“A C-plus or a C-minus?”

“Plus,” you said with inflated, drunken confidence.

“I’ll alert the media,” Eren replied. You stuck your tongue out at him, though you knew he wouldn’t see it. “Now tell me, did you still want to get food or not?”

“I didn’t think it was still an option.”

“‘Course it is.” He finally looked back at you from over his shoulder, just in time to watch you stumble over a crack in the sidewalk. “I think you could use something to eat.”

Eren rounded the next corner, a block short of the street he lived on, and led you a few doors down to a diner, breakfast served 24 hours. You expected to flag down a street vendor over sitting down to eat, but you couldn’t complain about some drunk pancakes.

Eren chose the booth in the back after the hostess instructed you to seat yourselves. The place was small and smelled of stale coffee—just as any diner would at this hour. And stale or not, you knew you’d need to down a mug or two if you wanted to sober up.

The server flipped your ceramic mug over and filled it to the brim. If it were nine in the morning, steam would pour out like it did in the movies, but you didn’t want to know how long this coffee had sat out.

You took it with cream, then dumped some sugar in, too. Reaching for a second packet, you caught Eren staring as you tore it open, hands folded around his mug.

“Something the matter?” you asked.

“Want any coffee with your sugar?”

“Ha-ha.” You added the sugar, now out of spite. When you took your first sip, it tasted as bitter as you expected.

Now that you were off your feet, the pain gnawed at you. You wiggled your shoes down, just enough for your heels to slip free from the backs. But it wasn’t enough. You couldn’t bear to keep them on another second—the diner was empty anyway. Once they were off, your feet pulsed as if they had their own heartbeat.

The server took your order before disappearing again, only making rounds to offer a warm-up here or there, one of which you accepted. This time, when you added another packet of sugar, Eren kept his comments to himself. There was a lapse in conversation, one you spent fiddling with the paper scraps.

“You know,” he started. You peered up from the wad you’d rolled between your thumb and forefinger. He sat back in the booth, looking out the window with a quiet sort of chuckle. “I thought you hated me when we first met.”

You matched the laugh, yours more disbelieving. “Hated you? I don’t think I knew you enough to hate you.”

As if he were thinking aloud, he said, “You were always so quiet.”

“Being quiet doesn’t mean you hate someone.”

Eren’s eyes flashed from the window to you. “Then what does it mean?”

It was easier to talk to him when he wasn’t looking at you. His gaze felt smothering. You avoided him, your attention retreating down to the spoon you twirled anxiously around your mug. The clanging of ceramic was the only sound between you because you still hadn’t responded.

“I don’t know,” you said, hoping you would have come up with a more profound answer by now. “It just means you’re quiet, I guess.”

A short stack of pancakes interrupted Eren, slid right between the two of you and decorated with a gooey scoop of butter. He’d only ordered a coffee, even after you insisted on paying as a thank-you for tonight, so once the server left, Eren was quick to jump back into the conversation, much to your dismay.

“But you’re not quiet, and you’re not all that shy either,” he told you like he’d caught you in a lie. You urged him on with a raised brow. He scoffed. “Don’t give me that. I know that’s not you. I saw you dancing tonight.”

Your hand stalled as you reached for the syrup. “You saw me dancing?”

He played it off with, “Well, yeah. My so-called quiet lab partner actually knows how to dance? It just surprised me, that’s all.”

“If you saw me earlier,” you said, forking a slice of pancake, “why didn’t you come and say hi?”

Strike that—Eren almost played it off. He couldn’t hide his shifty eyes, or how long it took him to excuse it away. “Oh, I think someone grabbed me for a game of beer pong or something. I don’t remember.”

That never happened. Eren knew it, and it looked like you knew it, too. The truth was he didn’t go up and talk to you because he’d spent the last two weeks convincing himself he wasn’t into you. The party turned out to be the ultimate test of willpower, which he so evidently failed.

Eren even went as far as reinstalling all the dating apps he’d long sworn off. He dumbly assumed if he went on a date, maybe even brought a girl home, then he’d be in the clear; he wouldn’t think about you anymore. But by the time dinner was over, Eren knew there wasn’t any use in taking things further. He’d spent the evening comparing her to you, finding himself every time she laughed because it didn’t sound like yours.

Then he saw you tonight. Of course, he had to see you tonight. And of all the things you could have been doing, you were dancing. Having fun, enjoying yourself. He favored you like that, when you were carefree. You were nothing like the girl he thought he met in class.

And when Eren heard your laugh—strangely more remarkable than any other, like he’d gone deaf to anything but you—he couldn’t even remember why he tried to stay away from you.

But here you were, seated across the booth from him, cheeks stuffed with pancakes, and he had no clue what he was supposed to do next. He’d spent the entire walk wrangling with himself, scared that if he had you, even in the most innocent of ways, he wouldn’t be able to get enough.

Eren knew he shouldn’t be thinking like this, not yet, because—fuck, what if you still didn’t want him back?

Eren only lied about beer pong because he couldn’t outright confess to needing a drink before talking to you. He was so close to getting away with it, too. If you’d gone for another bite a second earlier, if he’d thought to take a sip of coffee to cover his face, maybe you wouldn’t have spotted the flushed bridge of his nose. So subtle yet telling enough that you had to bite your inner lip to prevent a smile.

You held your fork before your face, inspecting the square of pancake as a string of syrup dripped onto the plate. You were rather flippant about it when you finally told Eren, “It’s because I had a crush on you.”

“Huh?”

You plopped the pancake into your mouth, chewing so slowly that it nearly killed Eren. Once you swallowed, you finally said, “I had a crush on you. That’s why I was so quiet.”

Eren said nothing in return, even with you staring him straight in the face, expectant. You waited—for what felt like an eternity but was more like a second—until you couldn’t take the ambivalence any longer.

Your half-laugh fell flat as you went on to explain, “That, and you always got better grades than me. I didn’t want you to think I was dumb.”

Almost as if he didn’t hear it, still fixed on what you’d said before, he asked, “Do you still?”

It was a simple question, just three words, yet he said so much more than intended.

You knew what he was asking, but you played dumb. “Still what?”

“Have a crush on me.”

You thought it over while you took another bite, eyes on him like he already had the answer. He did. You both did. Still, you let the question hang heavy between you for another moment. You weren’t entirely ready to lay your cards on the table. Yet.

You tossed him a small smile as you answered, “To be determined.”

Eren nodded once, lips folded together in a similar sort of grin. “Got it.”

That didn’t mean your answer satisfied him, though. He watched as you took another sip of coffee, then immediately reached for another sugar packet. Before you could pour it in, he shielded the mug.

“But you better figure it out before all that sugar kills you.”

You swatted him away. “Yeah, it’ll definitely be the sugar that kills me, not the keg stand I started the night with.”

“You did a keg stand?”

He said it like he didn’t believe you. You giggled, “Only because Hitch talked me into it.”

Eren laughed with you despite shaking his head. “See, what did I say? You surprise me.”

You had only taken a few hobbles out of the diner before your heels started hurting again. The pain intensified with every step, and you sucked your teeth sharply. You noticed two fresh blisters, one on each heel, when you put your shoes back on before leaving, but thought you could handle the short walk to Eren’s house. But now, you wished you were still drunk enough to ignore the burn.

“Everything okay back there?” Eren asked.

You were behind him again, but not because of his long strides. “Yeah.”

He thought it sounded unconvincing. He looked back to confirm his hunch just in time to see you stumble.

“It’s my shoes,” you said. “I’m sorry.”

He stopped walking, turning to you. “Why are you apologizing?”

You stammered, “I don’t know.”

“Just take ‘em off.”

“I’m not going to walk around barefoot.”

“Didn’t say you had to.”

You didn’t get what he was saying, even less when he turned his back to you. Then, when he bent slightly at the knee, it made sense.

He couldn’t be serious right now.

“My house isn’t that far. I’ll carry you there.”

Okay. He was being serious. He was ready and willing to give you a piggyback ride.

You didn’t intend to laugh, but it was only because this situation was so ridiculous—and partly because of your own anxiety, fizzling at the thought alone.

Eren took it differently, shooting you a playfully offended look when he said, “What? You think I can’t carry you?” He straightened out, shoved his hands into his pockets, and began walking away. “Fine. Suit yourself.”

“Wait!”

You wanted to blame it on your feet or because you didn’t want to slow him down, but you had to be honest with yourself—aching feet or not, were you really going to pass on this opportunity?

Eren flashed a smile over his shoulder. “That’s what I thought.”

Ignoring his boasting, you ripped off your shoes. He took them from you in one hand, and then let you hop onto his back. His body didn’t give like you would expect, and his arms felt sturdy as they looped around your thighs.

You hadn’t had a piggyback ride since you were probably eleven years old, but you didn’t remember them feeling anything like this. Eren’s neck was warm against your arms, exceptionally so in the crisp night air. His hands were even hotter, having you convinced they’d sear themselves into the backs of your thighs.

He jostled you forward, higher onto his back. “Hold on tighter or else you’re gonna fall off.”

You hugged him, pressing your chest against his back. You’d never been this close to him before, close enough that his hair, only loosely tied back, brushed against your face. Faint notes of his cologne—warm like amber, but there was something you found refreshing about it—tickled your nose. You drew in closer, inhaling the scent, him.

Eren worried you might have felt the roll of his throat when your breath broke over the nape of his neck. How embarrassing that something as innocent as a piggyback ride could send his heart racing. As if suddenly, he was back in junior high, and it was his first time holding a girl’s hand all over again.

If this was all he’d have of you tonight, or ever, he’d be happy with just that. Even if it meant he’d wake up with a sore back. He wanted to earn your heart, even if he wasn’t so sure your crush had ever gone away.

The house was too dark for you to make out a thing. You stilled in the entryway, just behind Eren, and waited for him to walk ahead.

Not a second later, he flipped a light on from the kitchen. Your eyes adjusted after a few blinks, and he appeared again from around the corner. He wore a look of trepidation, staring at you like you were a lost puppy he’d taken in and didn’t know what to do with.

“Can I get you some water?”

“Sure,” you replied. “Thank you.”

He waved a hand toward the sofa, saying, “Make yourself at home,” before disappearing again.

You’d hardly made yourself comfortable by the time he returned. You didn’t even realize how rigid your arms were until you uncrossed them to reach for the water bottle Eren handed you.

He sat on the other side of the old couch and it squeaked beneath his weight.

“I imagine you wouldn’t want to sleep on the couch in a house full of guys,” he started, settling into the couch. “Take my room, if you want. I can sleep out here.”

You almost choked on your water, immediately shaking your head. “I’m not going to take your bed.” You couldn’t, possibly. You’d never even been in his room before. “You didn’t even need to go to the trouble of letting me stay the night.”

“Out of all my troubles,” Eren said with a certain warmth to his face, “you staying the night is the least of them.”

You smiled at him. You smiled at him, and you had no clue how it pulled at his heart. It was shy, no greater than a curl of the very corner of your mouth, yet he craved nothing more than to feel the shape of it under his lips and memorize the taste.

“Okay.” You finally gave in. You could have ended it there, and you probably should have, but you nervously rambled on, “But, really, if it’s too much—if you want me to go, I can call a—”

“I don’t want you to go.”

You stammered, opening and closing your mouth as you pretended you had any clue what you’d say next. Something changed; you didn’t know what. An energy shift, a new glint in his eyes—that look he was giving you.

Maybe it was more accurate to say that everything had changed.

There wasn’t much air to your voice when you said, “I don’t want to go either.”

Your admission was barely a whisper. So delicate that Eren wasn’t even sure you intended to say it aloud. Your eyes were big and genuine, like you had revealed some vulnerable part of you. He couldn’t look away, risking losing what little composure you hadn’t stolen from him yet.

You liked him like that—getting to witness such an unguarded look on a face that was always hardened. Soft and electric, all at once. You never thought he’d look at you in such a way, only in your dreams, and you didn’t want it to end.

Now or never.

“Eren?”

“Yeah?” His voice was just as taken as yours.

You knew yourself as anything but bold, but right then, you were. Purring your words when you asked him, “Why are you always so nice to me?”

The distant light from the kitchen cast shadows along the angles of his jaw, highlighting how it tensed.

“Am I?” Eren asked. His voice had gained a new rasp.

You nodded.

“How so?”

“You know,” you said slowly, knowingly, leaning into him. “You walk me home when I’m drunk. Carry me when my feet hurt.” You tucked your legs beneath you, sitting back on your calves, knees bumping up against his thigh. “You let me spend the night, even offer me your bed.”

Eren thought you might kiss him right then, but you only giggled. “Not to mention, you tutored me in anatomy for an entire semester without complaining once.”

You rested a daring hand on his leg. He looked from it to you before teasing, “I think I might’ve complained once.”

He moved with you, at your pace. He cupped your cheek, and you tried not to melt into him.

“But I can’t help myself.” His thumb traced over your skin. “You’re very cute when you’re drunk and when you’re proud of yourself for passing a quiz.” He unexpectedly grins. “And when you hold your book too close to your face when you read.”

“I don’t do that.”

“Yes, you do.”

You didn’t press the subject any further because it didn’t matter; you were so close that the tips of your noses were nearly brushing against each other. With your face still in his hand, he swiped his thumb along your bottom lip. Unwittingly, you wetted them like you wanted a taste.

Neither of you wanted to be the first to crumble the wall, the one you spent a semester building together, so tall that there were times you couldn’t see over it.

You might have been feeling courageous, but you knew you’d regret it the next time you saw Eren on campus. You could see it now, the smug smile he’d give you from across the hall, or the far side of the green—wherever you’d inevitably bump into him again. He’d turn you into a puddle right on the spot.

That didn’t concern you. Not after you heard the needful groan he stifled from the very back of his throat, and you desperately wanted to hear it again.

Eren caressed your face. You tilted into him until your forehead pressed against his, and you could feel his breath on your lips.

“I still have a crush on you,” you whispered.

“Yeah, I know.” He wasn’t cocky about it, but soft. He sounded relieved.

Your hand left his thigh, traveling higher until you had it splayed against his chest. The muscles twitched beneath your touch. Eren couldn’t help but wonder if you knew what you were doing to him, how insane you’d driven him. You had to.

“So,” you said, long and drawn-out.

Your fingers toyed with the fabric of his shirt, the tips of them grazing and pinching like you wanted to yank him to you.

“Are you going to do something about it?”

Spoken like a true temptress, like a lioness playing with her food. You let your gaze linger intentionally long before locking onto his eyes.

Eren nearly gulped. “Fuck—c’mere.”

The hand he had on your face slipped higher. His fingers wrapped around the back of your head to pull you to him.

What you thought would be a crash of lips was much more affectionate. Instead of kissing you as if he believed he could make up for lost time, he kissed you softly, thoughtfully, like he knew he had all the time in the world with you now.

Your lips parted to invite his tongue in, hot and licking against your own. Your head spun, but not because of the alcohol. Attempting to ground yourself, you snatched a fistful of his shirt with a trembling hand. But the longer he made out with you, taking his time with seemingly no destination in mind, the more helpless you became.

“Eren.” It left you in a gasp, swallowed up before it had the chance to meet the air.

He angled your head slightly, exposing your neck for him to explore. He kissed the corner of your mouth, then your cheek. Then you felt his lips at the hollow below your ear, gasping as his teeth skimmed lower.

“Hm?” he hummed, unbothered. Like he was oblivious to how turned on you were, how just his breath against your skin had your thighs clenching.

“That’s why you didn’t want me to leave, right?” Your voice warbled as you spoke, eyes fluttering shut as he began mouthing along your neck, sucking like he wanted to leave a bruise.

You palmed lower, over the front of his jeans. He was hard, straining against them, and you massaged over his length a few times. You waited and listened for his breath to falter before reaching for his zipper.

“Because you’ve thought about this before,” you murmured. With his jeans undone, you snuck your hand inside his boxer, wrapping your fingers around his cock. You nuzzled your face just below his jaw, peppering kisses, noting his quickening pulse as you began stroking him, base to tip. “Because you were hoping this would happen.”

“Yes,” Eren groaned. He would have tried to hold it back, but he was already staving off his urge to rut into your hand.

“I was, too,” you confessed.

That broke him. Before he knew it, he had you pinned between him and the couch.

Your back hit the cushion with another whine from the springs, louder and more obnoxious than before. When Eren kissed you this time, he didn’t want to take his time with you anymore. Not after hearing that you wanted him in the same ways he needed you.

The couch quickly became too cramped for your liking, with limbs slipping and spilling until you thought you might fall to the floor. Only when your kiss broke—because your head was dangling over the edge of the sofa—did you have a moment to catch your breath, or at least try to.

“You said,” you panted, collecting yourself. “You said I could sleep in your room.” Eren nodded, eyes hazy as he looked down at you. “Maybe you should show me to it now…”

He stalled, his brain short-circuiting for the obvious reason before he picked up on your heavy-handed implication.

“Yeah, okay.”

Eren helped you upright before you untangled yourselves from one another. You climbed the stairs in a hurry, tripping over your feet because you couldn’t imagine keeping your hands off each other. You followed just behind him, your hand in his, as he led you to his bedroom.

His hands were reckless as they pawed over your body, anywhere they could. Yet his touch maintained a certain firmness that had you weak in the knees, struggling to suppress your whimpers. Each tiny sound seemed to encourage him, riling him until he had you braced against the door, slamming it shut with your combined weight.

Eren caged you in place, with forearms planted on either side of your head. But you would have stayed there, willingly. Forever, if you could.

You almost hated yourself for how submissive you felt to him. He kissed you commandingly, yet gently enough that he could take you anywhere he pleased.

You hated yourself more for getting turned on at just the thought.

Taking his loose, unzipped jeans between your fingers, you tugged him close, hooking a leg around his waist. You felt his cock pressing between your legs, ground against it because if you didn’t, you thought you might explode; you were only human, after all.

Eren’s hands gripped your ass, helping you roll against him a few times before mumbling, “Bed?”

His voice was shallow, all breathless, like his lungs were running on empty. You liked this version of him—when he was needy for you.

“Bed,” you affirmed with a bob of your head.

That was all it took before Eren scooped you into his arms, whirling you around until he had you collapsed onto the bed.

You sprawled out with a stretch of your back. It felt so good to lie amongst the billowy comforter, off your feet. You nestled around, almost like you could have lulled off right then—almost.

Eren turned on his bedside lamp, and though the light was dim, you felt keenly aware of his gaze on you as you peeled off your shirt. It bunched as you snaked it over your head, its slinky fabric hugging your body, revealing your bra with a subtle bounce of your tits. Every part of it, of you, was so shamefully sexy, Eren couldn’t get enough.

His hands closed over yours when you reached for the button of your jeans as if to tell you, let me do it. You allowed it, watching as he opened the front of them. His fingers glided along your stomach until he reached your hips. From there, he pulled the fitted denim down your legs. You kicked them to the side once they’d reached your ankles.

The sight of you, ready and beneath him, had him overwhelmed, to say the least. He didn’t know where to look—he didn’t even know where to start.

His fingertips, though lightly calloused, felt exceedingly gentle as he trailed them over your bare skin. So softly that if you closed your eyes, you might not even know he was there. He started just beneath the underwire of your bra, then down the length of your stomach. At your hip, his touch tickled, and you squirmed so cutely beneath him.

Eren wanted to say something witty, but the sight of you stirring below him had him spacey, leaving him quiet. Even the chuckle he gave was practically inaudible, just a huff through his nose.

Despite the fog, Eren had a fleeting moment of lucidity. He blinked, hard, like it would clear his head. You struggled to read him, staring at you like you’d given him reason to be suspicious.

Then he asked, “How are you?”

You mirrored his suspicion, eyebrows knitting together. “I’m good. Um, how are you?”

His face scrunched like he was about to say, not good. It made you nervous.

You perched on your elbows, interested, waiting on him. He ran his fingers through his hair, the same way he always did when he was trying to concentrate.

“We’re a little past exchanging pleasantries, don’t you think?” you joked, mainly because you didn’t know what else you were supposed to say.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Eren brought his hand to his forehead like he could capture his thoughts before they slipped away. “Like, I mean—” Coherency was hard, especially with you laid out before him, head tilted with curiosity, staring up at him through pretty, heavy lashes. Had they always been that long?

Finally, he blurted out, “Are you still drunk?”

You were relieved to learn nothing was wrong. You thought over your answer, taking inventory of your body, every fiber of your being only wanting him.

“Not really,” you said with a slight shrug. “Those pancakes were a real lifesaver.”

He still looked hesitant. You took his hand, giving it a small squeeze before smiling at him. “I want this. Like really, really want this.”

Eren let out a short laugh that softened you up even more. With your assurance, his fingers began dancing along your skin again, pulling lightly at the band of your underwear. He played with it, his once-boyish expression turning more brazen as he asked, “Then is it okay for me to touch you here?”

His voice was gruff, the timbre of it still ringing between your ears. You couldn’t help the sound it pulled from you. A sweet little moan, so delicious that Eren felt his cock twitch before he could even remove your underwear.

“Yes,” you murmured, eyes fixed on him, on his fingers. They pushed beneath your panties despite your hope that he’d simply take them off.

That single, breathy word gave Eren the go-ahead. He crawled over you, holding himself up with his free hand. Propped on your elbows, your face was inches away from his. So close that with just the tilt of your head, you were kissing him again.

Eren’s fingers ventured lower, sweeping between you teasingly, but it was as if he was teasing himself.

"You’re so wet,” he groaned, still playing with you. He’d circle your clit until your jaw went slack, then remove the pressure just to trace your entrance. “All for me?”

“Mhm.” You exhaled indulgently when his fingers returned to your clit, rubbing languidly. When you lifted your hips for more, his circles became tighter, quicker, giving you exactly what you needed. You let go then, allowing your wobbly elbows to give out.

Eren chased after you, nipping down your neck until he found the spot he’d learned you liked best, especially when he sucked on it. He yanked a sharp whine from you, another as he continued leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along your throat.

Eren, Eren, Eren. You were consumed by thoughts of him, only him. Consumed by how good he made you feel and every place you wanted him.

And when you cried out, “Ah—all for you,” you certainly weren’t thinking about how desperate you sounded for a guy who’d been nothing more than your lab partner until tonight.

That did it for him. In one impulsive motion, Eren stood up straight, hooked his fingers around the band of your panties, and tore them off with ease. Once they were out of his way, lost amongst your other garments, his hand was rightfully back between your legs.

He pumped his middle finger inside you first, curling it just right to have your back arching, your breath already hitching in your throat.

You thought he’d be arrogant about it, how he already had you, quite literally, bending to his will. But he’d already lost himself in you, every bit of you. Your tiny gasps, spilling from kiss-swollen lips. Your bra and the way its straps had limply started falling down your shoulder, exposing the supple skin of your chest. How pretty your cunt looked, taking his finger.

His pace ignited that familiar feeling within you, but as quickly as it started burning in your stomach, you’d lost it just as fast.

With a frustrated sob, you opened your eyes to see why he’d rudely edged you like that.

Eren yanked his shirt over his head and threw it aside. “I wanna go down on you.”

You felt his words hot at the back of your neck—either that or it was the sight of his deceivingly toned stomach. Whatever it was, you couldn’t decide before Eren started stripping from his jeans. And if you were still unsure why you’d clammed up, the tent in his boxers, large and threatening to undo you, was most certainly it.

You tried your best to look at his face when you asked, “Don’t you think we should be fast? All of your roommates are home.”

That was the last thing Eren wanted. He wanted to have you, all to himself, for as long as you’d allow. But that was easy for him to say now; his willpower had already started waning.

“They’re sleeping. Don’t worry about them.” Eren thumbed circles against your inner thigh encouragingly, making it difficult to say no to him. At least until he cracked his usual devilish smile. “I thought you said you were quiet.”

The daggers you shot him said enough. You had only started to quip something back when Eren shut you up. He leaned over you, encasing you in his warmth. You felt his lips, his tongue, at your neck, running along the silky skin.

He sucked at the lobe of your ear, and the airy giggle you gave traveled straight to his cock. He kissed your collarbone as he tugged down the cups of your bra. Though his breath was warm, it sent goosebumps scattering across your chest. His tongue flicked over one of your perked nipples, and you rewarded him with a moan—even louder once he took it into his mouth.

You were so, so sensitive. All for him, too. Eren craved to discover every nook on your body he could kiss and every sound you’d make in response. He wanted to learn every last part of you, especially the ones that would have you wrecked.

He continued kissing down your stomach, with him lowering to his knees on the ground. Taking your legs, one in each hand, he pulled them back to make room to settle between. He placed them over his shoulders, bringing you in until your bottom half hung off the side of the bed.

Eren palmed over your thighs. He left kisses there, too, his lips so close to where you wanted him the most.

“Let me taste you.” His voice was a quiet plead. He pressed a kiss against your inner thigh, then another, with his eyes fluttering shut like he wanted to savor you. “Please.”

You’d lost your voice somewhere in your throat. You could only nod in response—a bit too eagerly, perhaps. Eren gleamed up at you. He clearly wanted to smirk but was smart enough not to risk it this time.

You’d felt only his breath at first. It quelled the chill bedroom air. Next, it was the very tip of his tongue. Pointed, it ran through you, painfully slow but still enough for you to suck in a breath between your teeth.

“Spread your legs wider for me.” You did as you were told, completely at his mercy. It must have pleased him because you swore you felt him grin against you as he praised, “Good girl.”

You made an embarrassing sound at that. One you didn’t expect. Eren surely didn’t expect it either, but it excited him, knowing how you were weak to his words, to his voice. To him.

With you now fully on display for him, he couldn’t resist burying his face into you, even if he had fully intended to tease you longer. His tongue flicked your clit, sending pulses of electricity shooting up your spine.

You shifted your hips, raising them to meet his mouth. His tongue was steady, never slowing once as he leaned into a rhythm you liked, that had your fingers laced in his hair and undoing his bun. With just a little more, angling and guiding his tongue to just the right spot, it was like you suddenly saw sparks of white behind your eyelids.

“Eren—ah,” you panted frantically, “right there.”

He had the flat of his tongue against your clit, lapping in tandem with your rocking hips until your thighs began shaking.

“I got you,” he said, wrapping his arms around your legs and locking you into place. “Just relax for me.”

Eren continued having you feverishly, filling the bedroom with a mixture of your wispy cries and groans of his own. It was as if he was just as desperate for you to come as you felt, worshipping every squeak and squirm he could get from you.

“I-I’m—”

His eyes meet yours. You looked breathless, your mouth hanging open in a vain attempt at pulling in tattered breaths. When he let go of your thighs, they dropped to his shoulders.

Not breaking his pace, his thumb replaced his tongue so he could ask, “You need more?”

You swallowed hard and nodded.

“You want my fingers?” His thumb left your clit. You mourned the loss only for him to trace a finger down your entrance before dipping it inside you.

“Oh, fuck.” You writhed in response. “Yes.”

He used two fingers this time, collecting his spit and your slick before pushing them inside you. There was little resistance as he worked his fingers in and out of you. He returned to tonguing your clit, giving it a few kitten licks before picking up right where he left off.

You were getting close, so close, and if time could allow for it, you would have stayed like that forever, just shy of becoming entirely undone.

There were many times, admittedly, when you imagined Eren having his way with you, wondering what it’d feel like for him to finger and fuck you. But never did you think he’d beg to have you like this, nor did you imagine the sight to absolutely ruin you.

Eren’s face flushed a blossomy pink, spanning across his cheeks. You were so wet; he was so wet. Soaked, actually, in your arousal—a mess you might have cared more about if you weren’t about to come.

His green eyes, darkened like you’d never seen before, found yours, and he moaned. He felt pathetic for it, but what had him feeling even more pathetic was how he couldn’t stop himself from shoving his boxers down his thighs. He took hold of himself, seeking any semblance of relief because you were possibly the hottest thing he’d ever seen. But he knew you’d look even better coming on his tongue.

You whimpered when you saw him fisting his cock, nice and fast. He was so hard for you, and you weren’t shy about staring. You couldn’t even fake it, too curious to see exactly how he liked it, watching him fuck his fist with quick breaks to give extra attention to his sensitive tip. You thought about how he’d fuck you, how he’d like it then, and it sent you over the edge.

Your cries came out choppy and strained until your voice cut out entirely. You sobbed silently, carelessly, rolling your hips over Eren’s tongue and using him. You wanted to drag out the feeling for as long as you could. By the end, you were quivering, exhausted, and could no longer keep your eyes open.

Eren had to stop pumping himself, or else he would have come from that alone. He sat back onto his calves, one of his hands palming over your thigh while the other soothed your clit, just to ease you back down. You looked like you needed it, all wrecked, legs limply spread for him, just like he hoped.

God, he annoyed himself for pretending he never wanted you because you—you were a dream.

The only thing that could wake him from such a dream was your voice.

“Eren?”

He loved it when you said his name.

You sat up to look at him properly, but it felt like there were a ton of bricks on your chest. Eren appeared quite the opposite, entirely unfazed. He had his cheek smushed against your thigh, staring unabashedly at the finger he lazily pushed back inside you. You jolted at the intrusion, still sensitive; he could tell by the way your muscles spasmed around his finger.

The feeling mesmerized him: you sucking him in for more. He didn’t even look at you when he replied, “Hm?”

You would’ve thought knowing his eyes were on you would embarrass you, but you were still so touchy from your orgasm that the winding feeling had already returned. It coiled in your stomach, begging to be snapped again.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Eren loved hearing that even more.

He finally looked at you then, and you imagined that if he were a dog, his ears would have perked up like you said the magic words.

“What was that?” he asked, more playfully than you expected. You didn’t like it, not with the grin he wore to match. “I couldn’t hear you. You were mumbling.”

“You heard me the first time.”

He ran his finger teasingly up the crease of your thigh. “Say it again.”

It tickled. You fussed, “Eren, come on—”

“No, I don’t think that was it. I think you said something else.”

“Just—” You sighed dramatically before giving in. “I want you to fuck me. Please fuck me, Eren.”

He beamed at you, proud of both you and himself. He grabbed his boxers, still sitting mid-thigh, and removed them entirely.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Eren stood up and didn’t give you the chance to respond before flipping you onto your stomach. You felt his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. His fingers skated lower, down to your bra before undoing its clasp. When you pushed yourself to your forearms, you felt your bra fall, its straps hanging loosely around your arms.

“You look so pretty like this,” he told you as he grabbed your hips, raising you to your knees. He stroked himself a few more times with one hand and smacked your ass with the other.

“Eren!” you yelped. “Roommates!”

“I thought I told you not to worry about them,” he said, punctuated with another smack.

The print of his hand still stung when you heard rustling behind you. You peered over your shoulder to see him tearing open a condom. He rolled it over his cock, and all the while, his eyes kept you—naked and with your ass in the air for him—pinned to the bed.

He flattened a hand against your lower back, putting an arch in it. With the other, he spread you, aligning the tip of his cock with your entrance.

Eren guided himself in more slowly than he wanted to, listening to you whine as you adjusted to his length. It was a bit of a stretch, but it was easy enough for him to push inside, having already prepped you with his fingers, leaving you aching for him to fill you with more.

When his pelvis was flush against you, he felt your walls flutter around him, squeezing his cock so perfectly he thought you must be made for him. A groan bubbled in his throat, low enough that it was nearly a growl. The sound made your heart skip, right between your lungs, so you clenched again to encourage another.

“You’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that,” Eren hissed.

“Doing what?” you asked innocently. Then you did it again.

Despite the warning, he didn’t protest it. Instead, he started moving, thrusting into you leisurely. He was self-indulgent about it too, spreading you with his hands so he could admire how well your cunt looked with his cock in it.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he muttered, quiet enough that it was as if he were talking to himself. “So fucking good.”

“Eren.” The whine in your voice drove him crazy.

His hands, large and demanding, curved over your hips. The blunt end of his nails dug into the fat of them as he pulled you back to meet every snap of his hips. The indecent smacking of skin-on-skin bounced off the bedroom walls. You didn’t complain this time, only let your head drop between your shoulders. Your eyes screwed shut as you became lost in the throes of pleasure all over again.

“Eren,” you cried again.

He didn’t stop fucking you to ask, “What is it?”

He folded over you, his hand snaking up to your neck and taking hold of your chin. He turned your face to look at him, so he could see what you wanted. You couldn’t form anything other than wimpy chants of ah, ah, ah, sounding mangled as he squished your cheeks.

“Tell me how you want it.”

His words alone made you bite back a moan.

Finally, you managed to say, “Harder.”

Eren smiled, all slack-jawed and toothy. You would have found it irresistible, yet totally ill-fitting if you could have seen it. But how else was he to react?

He placed a kiss on the back of your neck, then another on your shoulder. It was unexpectedly doting, until you felt his fingers curve around your throat. Though you knew what was coming, you still squealed when he hoisted you upright, with your back sealed against his chest.

Eren held you there, fucking up into you, harder, like you asked him. Your flimsy bra flopped around your arms with each of his thrusts. He groped at your breast, taking your nipple between his fingers, rolling and pinching at it until you were mewling.

He continued taking you as if you’d always been his, and you let him have you. You let him use you like you only existed for his pleasure, with your head feeling heavy as it lolled back against him.

But you were so much more than that, and Eren was determined to make you come again. He wanted to feel it.

“Touch yourself,” Eren breathed, right into your ear. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. “I want to hear you when you come this time.”

Your hand slithered between your legs. The very tips of your fingers bumped into Eren’s cock as you got yourself off. Legs wavering at the added pressure, you were practically vibrating when you came, your heart pounding in your ears. There was no doubt he heard you this time around.

It was difficult to remain upright. You fell from Eren’s hold, landing on the bed forcefully with him toppling right over you. You were still riding out the aftershocks of your orgasm as he fucked you into the mattress, and it had your thighs squeezing together so nicely for him.

“I’m—ah, fuck—I’m close,” Eren grunted.

It surprised you when he pulled out, but it didn’t take long before you realized he was rolling you onto your back. Eren manhandled you like you were weightless; he had your arms tossed above your head, pinned in place with a single hand around your wrist. He pushed back inside you, hard and fast, with a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.

“I need to see you.”

Your stomach flipped at his words like they were poetry. Fuck. He had you so irrevocably wrapped around his finger. And maybe you were merely lovelorn and looking for something that wasn’t there, but you swore he looked as though he were just as ensnared as you.

Your mouth sought out his in a sloppy kiss. It was suckling lips and colliding teeth, smothered grunts and groans as you ground against one another, but you didn’t care; you enjoyed every messy, frantic minute of it.

You wanted to touch him, wriggling until he released his hold on your wrists. You took his face between your hands. His eyes were moony and heavy-lidded and had you swooning.

“Fuck, Eren—I want you to come,” you gasped.

Easy enough.

He came hard. As perverted as it sounded, you wished you had a camera. You wanted to remember how his eyes snapped shut, to record every sound. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hips stuttering against you as if he could reach any deeper.

His breath was hot against your already sweltering skin. It was hard to breathe, especially under his weight, but you wanted to hold him for a little longer.

Neither of you spoke for a while. You didn’t realize you’d been grazing your fingers up and down the back of his neck until he lifted himself off you. He let his gaze linger on your face, like he wanted one last look, then nudged his nose against yours before getting up.

You laid still, only watching while Eren straightened out and disposed of the condom. Your legs felt too soft and lazy to move, so you only let your eyes follow him as he stepped into a pair of sweatpants.

"The invitation to stay the night still stands, right?” you lightly sassed.

“No, I was actually going to call you an Uber home.” Eren rolled his eyes. “Of course it does. What kind of guy do you think I am?”

You giggled as you pushed yourself up. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“Down the hallway, last door on the right.” He took one look at you, then started digging around in his dresser. He tossed something at you, aiming it at your head by the looks of it. You snatched it just in time. It was one of his T-shirts. “You can wear that.”

You held it by the sleeves, inspecting it. “Is that weird?”

“It wasn’t until you asked that.”

You pulled the tee over your head before adjusting it. Your underwear came next, but you felt more hesitant about the jeans.

Eren noticed, assuring you, “They’re sleeping, I promise,” as he put on a shirt of his own. “Just be quick.”

“Okay.” You left, but poked your head back in to say, “I’m leaving the door cracked so I know which room is yours.”

He laughed. “All right.”

You followed his instructions, even trying to be quick about it, too. You peed, washed your hands, and only stared at your bruising collarbone for ten seconds before rushing back down the hall.

Eren was in bed when he saw the door swing open. “Look at you, Ms. C-plus, not getting lost.”

You pulled a face. “Whatever, Brian.”

Right on cue, he complained, “It was one time.” You mouthed it along with him.

For whatever reason, you didn’t crawl into bed with him right away. You felt a bit like a deer in headlights, blinking at Eren as you waited for something. You didn’t know what. He looked sleepy, with his hair still unkempt from your fingers. Seeing him like this, with you dressed in his shirt, about to curl up under his sheets—were you supposed to go along with this like it was normal?

When you finally thought of something to say, Eren cut in first. “You can’t seriously try to take the couch after that.”

That was exactly what you were about to do. He chuckled, knowing he was right by the purse of your lips. He lifted the blanket for you—once again, like this was entirely normal for you—and said, “Get over here already. I’m cold.”

Eren was extremely difficult to say no to, but you knew that already. You got into his bed with no contest and let him lay the comforter over you.

Either his pillows were just that soft or you felt that exhausted because your eyes went heavy almost immediately. Eren reached over you to turn out the light, but let his arm fall on top of you. He hugged your waist, not hesitating to pull you into him.

He nuzzled into the back of your neck, pulling a giggle from you. “Are you always this clingy after sex?”

Eren hummed an affirmative sound, tickling you again.He was most definitely never this clingy after sex. But there was no way he could keep his hands to himself, not with how good you looked in his shirt, just barely long enough to cover anything. Maybe his intentions in lending you a shirt weren’t entirely pure—so sue him. You wearing his clothes was a sight he could get used to. One he had a feeling he’d get to see much more often.

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

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myfictionaldreams · 7 months

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Day 29: Coercion/Blackmail - Dark!Marauders

Summary: They were waiting for the ideal chance to find you alone and the perfect opportunity arose when they saw you on the Marauder's map as you were sneaking around the Restricted section of the library.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dubious content, mean!marauders, Slytertherin!Reader, manipulation, coercion, blackmail, threatening, scent smelling, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, restrained, panty sniffing, masturbation, nearly caught, dacryphilia

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“Well, well, well boys, look who we’ve got here”, James boasted, shuffling over to where Sirius and Remus sat on either end of the Gryffindor sofa, leaving enough space for him to squeeze in between. The Gryffindor Seeker sat with a smug grin on his handsome face as he displayed the Marauders map for both of his friends to see, pointing directly in the middle where your name hovered.

“Is she in the restricted section of the library?” Remus asked, leaning closer to James to make sure that what he was reading was true.

James looked between Remus and Sirius, still grinning so wide that his cheeks ached, “Yes, she is, Moony. Our slithery little friend seems to be sneaking around in naughty places that she shouldn’t be”.

Sirius sighed heavenly, his body melting back into the overused cushions of the maroon sofa. “Today really is my lucky day”, he admired, all the cruel intentions flashing through his mind with the opportunity presented to him. You were their favourite plaything and had been since the first year. Being in Slytherin, you were natural enemies with the Gryffindors, but as much grief as they gave you, you were always quick to give it back, so it was a constant repeat as to who could best the other.

Now, the opportunity was too perfect for them to pass up on. There you were, in the middle of the night, in the restriction section of the library with no one around, and oh, they were more than ready to confront you. James thought about bringing along his invisibility cloak, but as they were all grown, there wasn’t much space to squish them beneath, so it was easier to use the map to see if there was anyone on the route that they would bump into.

You cursed quietly under your breath; you hated the restricted section. It felt so eerie and dark. However, you were researching some unsanitary subjects that couldn’t be found in the books without chains wrapped around them. Lifting the lamp above your head, you continued to search for the relevant topic, keeping your breathing slow and shallow to listen for any signs that one of the Professors was on patrol nearby.

As you searched through the third row of books, you heard the shuffle of multiple footsteps. Your heart immediately jumped into your throat as you blew out the candle in your lamp and rushed deeper into the restricted section to hide in a dark corner.

“I’d stop running if I were you, little snake. We know you’re here”, Sirius taunted with a cheerful tone to show how delighted he was to be in this situation.

The tip of your wand, defiantly pointing towards them, was what they saw first of you as they held up their wands for light. “What the fuck are you three doing here?” you asked pointedly, rolling your eyes and relaxing the tension that had built since you’d heard the noise.

The three Marauders gathered around you, forming a semi-circle, boxing you into the bookshelf. Even though the four of you were always at loggerheads, you weren’t actually threatened by them. In fact, things between you were borderline between enemies with benefits. They were always upfront about their attraction to you and would frequently tease you because of it. So far, nothing had occurred other than fleeting kisses, but every time the four of you were alone together, the tension was palpable in the atmosphere. You enjoyed this cat-and-mouse game that had developed; even though they were beautiful men, you couldn’t think of anything worse than sleeping with Gryffindors, especially with the rising suspicion from the other Slytherins.

Lowering your wand and tucking it into the pocket of your robe, your eyes flicked between each of them and sharply asked, “How the fuck do you three always find me? Are you stalking me?”

The back of James’ fingers stroked across your cheekbone. A touch that you didn’t flinch away from but gently shoved his hand away as he reached your jaw. Shaking his messy black hair, James smirked, his hazel eyes devouring you in the darkness of his lamp resting on the bookshelf beside you.

Remus’ head condescendingly tilted to the left, “We were just worried for your wellbeing. The restricted section isn’t exactly a welcome place for students”.

It was your turn to develop a smirk as you looked over his body, remembering the event from last week. “You know better than most that I can look after myself, Lupin”. Last Tuesday, he’d accidentally stepped into the way of you practising a particularly brutal jinx during defence against the dark arts.

Remus’ eyelids lowered, so he looked at you through his eyelashes, “I didn’t properly thank you for that one, did I?” Even though he was being sarcastic, you didn’t miss the severe undertone to his baritone voice.

“Poor Moony here had to spend the night in the hospital wing. You’re lucky he’s still just as handsome as before”, Sirius mocks, reaching to grip his friend's face and shaking his head for emphasis until Remus shoves him away.

Once more, you’re rolling your eyes at their antics. “Well, maybe Lupin should watch where he’s walking next time I practise spells”.

James shifts closer as he stands to your left, his body casually leaning against the bookcase, “So hostile tonight, Princess. Do you need some way to get your anger out? I know the perfect way”.

Your eyes seemed to be in a constant state of rolling, finding James’ words more annoying than serious as he licked his bottom lip suggestively.

“Maybe I don’t like being interrupted when trying to do something important. So, why don’t you three run back to your little Gryffindor hiding hole?”.

James cocks his head to the side as he looks back at Sirius and Remus, who has stepped even closer, causing the apples of your cheeks to warm at the increasing temperature, even in the creepy section of the library.

“You know, Moony, I do recall you being head boy”, James casually remarks to Remus, who grins, the pink scars that were still healing down his cheeks stretching with the movement. Glancing down, he held up the shiny pin attached to his pristinely knotted tie, showing you the badge.

“You’d be correct about that, Prongs”.

Sirius now steps forward, mimicking James’ stands, but this time to your right, leaving Remus between them and directly in front of you. “I’d love to know Moony. What would the head boy say to a sneak snake wandering around the castle in the middle of the night and the restricted area no less?” Sirius asks with a fake, quizzical look on his handsome face as some of his long hair slips from behind his ear, causing a sinister shadow to hide part of his smirk.

“Well, Padfoot, I would say to that certain little snake that she was breaking a handful of school rules and deserves to have points taken away from her, a weekend of detentions and the head of Slytherin to be woken and informed”.

You scoff, looking between the three of them as your arms folded across your chest. “Ha ha. You’re hilarious, boys”, your voice is laced with sarcasm, “Your scare tactics won’t work with me”.

“Oh really?” Remus continued, stepping forward and raising his hands to rest on either side of your head, pressing into the chains surrounding the books as he dropped his head to be eye level with you. “The thing is, Love, I’m not joking. Why would I abuse my powers like that?” Glancing over his shoulder to Sirius, he asked, “How long do you think it would take you to get to Slughorn’s office? A couple of minutes?” he turned back towards you. “I’m sure he could get there before you do. Professor Slughorn will be very interested to hear why his favourite student is walking around the restricted section in the middle of the night, don’t you agree?”

Your stomach twisted with unease as your confident exterior began to crack. “Why the fuck would you three care where I am? It’s got nothing to do with any of you. I could just as well wake up Professor McGonagall and tell her you’re all out of bed”.

Remus purses his lips as he fakes contemplation, but it is Sirius who speaks next, joy evident in his voice, “Ah, you see, the thing is beautiful; there’s three of us and only one of you. All it would take is one of us to hold you here and another to go and wake our friend Sluggie. And oh, would you look at that? There’s still one of us spare to help hold you down”.

Your heartbeat begins to increase, causing palpitations beneath your ribs as your anxiety begins to take over. “You guys aren’t funny, you know. You’re wasting my time.” You attempted to keep the facade up that you weren’t bothered by their words, but you knew they weren’t messing around.

Remus suddenly grips your cheeks, causing you to startle and jolt at the rough hold he had, squishing your lips out and forcing your eyes to look only up at him. “We aren’t joking around. We think it’s about time the Slytherins stop getting away with everything, and what better example to use than their silver star? I’m sure you’d continue to be everyone’s favourite when I take away; hmm, would 50 house points be sufficient?”

Your heart felt like it would pound out of your chest as you stepped closer to him, now toe to toe, and the tips of your noses nearly brushed together as you tried to look as vicious as possible. “50?! What the fuck is your problem, Lupin?” As you spoke, your fingers reached into your robe to grab your wand, but James was quicker, muttering expelliamous and catching your wand with his nimble fingers.

James tutted, shoving your wand into his pocket within his robe, “You know, Moony, I think another 10 points for the bad language might be a good idea. Why don’t you do that, and Padfoot will go and wake up our favourite potions master?”

You were breathing at a dizzying pace as you looked away from Remus to watch with fear as Sirius began to strut away, his arms swinging leisurely. “Wait! Wait, please!” Sirius stopped walking, turning to look over his shoulder to show you the dazzling smile and quipped up his eyebrow as he waited for you to continue. “What- What do you guys want?” you couldn’t help the stutter, shoulders dropping in defeat as you slumped back against the uncomfortable bookcase.

The long-haired Marauder swaggered back over, delighting evidence on his face as he returned to leaning beside you. A single finger grazes beneath your chin, hooking onto the end and tilting your face towards James as he bragged, “You know what we want”.

Of course, you knew, it was all they ever asked with their perverted minds, always talking with their dicks and then their hearts. It had always been a joke because that was all you had taken it for, a hilarious, sleazy joke.

“That’s always been a joke, so quit playing around”, you say, but the fighting your voice has dimmed.

“Does it look like we’re joking?” James asks.

“So what is this? You’re all blackmailing me so that you can get your dicks wet? I’m sure there are plenty of other pathetic girls who would be more than happy to do what you’re asking”, you say with as much venom as you can muster, but there was no denying the core-clenching pulse that ran through your pussy.

“Oh honey, you know it’s not our dicks that we want to get wet, and there’s no other cunt we’d rather be licking than yours”, Sirius says, tilting his head up to talk in his sweet purr that had your thighs squeezing together in an attempt to relieve some tension that had increased tenfold in your clit. All three of the men in front of you noticed the movement and had to adjust their stances, seeming to be as tall and intimidating as possible, but that only made you more horny.

With all of the previous times that they had made sexual advances, they had not once mentioned their own pleasure. All they’d ever asked and begged to do was have a taste of your pussy.

‘Give us a taste’, ‘I bet you’re nice and sweet’, ‘I can get you gushing against my tongue, Princess’.

It was always comments like these that had you either jinxing them, rolling your eyes or simply walking away to the comfort of your bed, curtains closed so you could imagine the acts with your fingers between your legs. It was almost a daily occurrence that you masturbated to the thought of the three of them in your bed, and it would be easy just to give in and say yes to their requests. Still, you would never lower yourself to sleeping with a Gryffindor, let alone the three most arrogant and infamous students throughout Hogwarts.

However, now you were stuck between a rock and a hard place. You knew that if you said no, you could have the detention and deducted points, and they would happily walk you down to Slughorn's office. But, to be truthful, there was a small part of you that was becoming bored with the cat-and-mouse chase, that part being your cunt.

Sirius replaced the finger under your chin, turning you to look up at home, “So? What do you say? We don’t expect anything from you, but each of us gets a taste, and we’ll let you go on your merry way”.

You sigh through your nose, chewing on your bottom lip as you contemplate your answer, even though you know already what you are going to say. “I know I’m going to regret this”.

Sirius moves so close that you can see the different shades of grey in his eyes, “Trust me, Sweetheart, you aren’t going to regret this for a second. I can guarantee that”.

Your eyes flick between his and his dangerous lips, a movement that has him grinning and showing his perfectly pearly teeth, knowing your answer because you even say it.

“Fine. But I’m not touching any of you, and after, you have to promise that you’ll let me walk away without losing any points or waking up Slughorn”.

“Your wish is our command, ma’am” James dramatically bows to add to the performance.

Your sigh brushes over Sirius’ face as you move back to look at them individually. “So how do you want to do this? Shall we go to a classroom or something?”

Remus shakes his head, nodding towards your skirt, “Take off your underwear”.

Okay, so they were expecting to do it in the middle of the restricted section of the library. You were thankful for wearing a skirt to keep some of your modesty as you shimmied the material down your legs and stepped out of it. Before you could hide them in your pocket, Sirius was snatching them from your hands and stuffed them into his back pocket.

As your mouth snapped open to argue with him to give the underwear back, Remus was distracting you by dropping onto his knees. As he lifted the edge of your skirt, Sirius and James grabbed onto a leg each and lifted you to sit on the shelf of the bookcase, holding each limb up until your knees were as close to your chest as possible, spreading you open for Remus.

All you were able to do was hold onto the sturdy shelf above your head, fumbling with your words with how embarrassed you were to be completely exposed to them all as the positioning of your legs now pushed your skirt away.

Remus groaned hungrily, taking a deep sniff as he leaned in close. You gaped at him, internally cringing and embarrassed that he was actually smelling your arousal. Before you could tell him to stop, his hands were roughly parting your folds, presenting your dripping hole further for him as your hips bucked at the contact. It was filthy watching him stick his long tongue out and lick a long strip from your perineum up to your engorged clit.

His big green eyes never left yours, and you were captivated by looking away, crying out and needing more as it truly dawned on you that this was actually happening. Remus seemed to simultaneously be touching all parts of your cunt with his wet, wide tongue, digging into your clenching hole, slurping out the juices that were seeping out and then lewdly sucking on your bundle of nerves until you were whining from the overstimulation.

It was all Remus had ever wanted, and it seemed he was good at it, and for a second, you regretted all the time wasted having said no to them all. Your fingers dropped to hold onto his head, keeping him close and using it to try and buc your hips to ride his face, but with the men holding up your legs, it was difficult to move.

If he was spelling your name with his tongue against your clit, he was delving it as deep within your cunt as possible. The noises coming from both you and him were filthy, and it took an embarrassingly short amount of time before you were cuming, eyes closing and head tilting back as your walls clamped down around his tongue in quick bursts of euphoria.

He didn’t stop stimulating you until you were slumping back against the books, and Sirius was quick to drop your leg and replace the positions with Remus, dropping to his knees in front of you as Remus stood, still licking his lips and holding onto your leg.

To their credit, they only used their mouths, and for a minute, you had contemplated begging for more, but your ego kept your lips sealed tightly. Sirius didn’t give you any time to try and catch your breath before he had his own taste, his mouth warmer than Remus’. With his tongue sticking out, he shook his head like he was trying to dig his way right into the centre of your core.

Your fingers were sliding through his silky hair, pulling on him to try and get him to slow down, but he liked the pain that came with the hair pulling, so it only pushed him on further. Sirius's hands rested on your hips, pulling your body onto the edge of the shelf so he could move his face harder against you. As he fucked your pussy with his tongue, he pushed the tip of his nose against your clit, sending scorching pleasure into your abdomen.

Just as you were on the very brink of an orgasm, Sirius’ mouth disappeared from you entirely so he could watch your body tremble and pulse with the need to cum but not be given the proper stimulation for it.

“Fucking hell Sirius, just let me cum already!” you hissed at him, losing some of the control over the situation.

Sirius doesn’t say a word, but he does laugh heartedly as his face attached to your mound once more, delving between your folds and licking until you were cumming with mind-spinning pleasure.

James didn’t even wait until your orgasm had subsided before he pulled back Sirius’ head and shoved him out of the way, dropping to his knees and beginning his feast. Sirius didn’t argue with him but stood to hold onto your leg, the lower half of his face gleaming with juices and pink from being rubbed against.

The glasses on James’ face were cold against your skin as the rim of them pressed into your mound. He gathered as much spit onto the tip of his tongue and let it drip over your pussy, spreading it around with his tongue until you were as sloppy as possible. This only added more pleasure to do, feeling how wet everything was down there, the whisps of air cooling certain areas before he was back sucking and licking at it.

Just as you were getting into it and falling into the pleasure that was causing your body to jolt as you were becoming extremely overstimulated, a heavy thump sounded from the entrance to the library. A breath later, all of the lamps were extinguished by Remus’ wand, descending you all into darkness as you anticipated them all to stop. Except, they didn’t. James continued as if nothing had changed, but now his hand was covering your mouth to help keep your moans muffled.

You were beyond tense, hands shoving at any body part of the three men you could reach, trying to stop them from holding you in place. A faint light glowed from a few rows away, and to your horror, you realised just how close you were to being caught by one of the professors, being held down and eaten out by three men.

It was so overwhelming that a few tears escaped the corner of your eye as a quiet sob slipped from your chest. Remus pushed his body in closer, “Shhh Princess, it’s ok. Once you cum for prongs, this all stops”.

Thankfully, as he finished talking, the light began to disappear, and the Professor decided there was no use checking the restricted section as there was never anyone this far into the room. With the light gone, you could finally lose control, still crying as James sucked violently for as long as he could against your clit until you were bucking your hips and flooding his mouth with squirt as you came hard.

It took a long couple of seconds for your pussy to calm down from the orgasm, but even as your walls stopped contracting, they still continued to throb in time with your heartbeat. Your entire body was aching, especially your legs and chest from where you’d been crying. The lights of their lamps were illuminated once more to reveal James looking at a piece of parchment, announcing that the coast was clear. You didn’t have the energy to ask what he was holding as Remus and Sirius helped your feet back to the ground.

With your legs now together, you could feel just how swollen and puffy your clit and folds were from being poked and prodded by three mouths. Your knees also struggled to hold your weight as you clung to Remus, who helped you stay upright and find the energy to stand by yourself.

For once, there are no condescending or mean words coming from him as he gently cups the back of your head and strokes the space between your shoulders in calm circles as your sobs slow to a quiet hiccup.

Eventually, as the clock tower bell chimes to symbolise that it is 2 a.m., you are able to pull away from Remus, wiping the wetness from your face with the back of your robe and then straightening your skirt. Glancing over to Sirius, you held out a hand to him and a hand to James.

James gave you back your wand, but Sirius simply patted himself down and looked at you with a frown, “Hmm, seems I’ve lost your underwear. Sorry, Princess”.

You don’t have the energy to argue with him as you sigh, “You don’t tell a soul about what’s happened here.” You point your finger at each of them, but James responds.

“Wouldn’t dream of telling anyone. But I will be dreaming about you tonight when I’m touching my cock with your taste still in my mouth”.

Your face heats with embarrassment as your eyes trained on the floor, lifting your lamp and beginning to limp away, trying to hold as much dignity as possible. Still, it was difficult with how uncomfortable and sensitive you were feeling, depending on bookcases to lean on as you made your way out of the library and back towards the Slytherin common room.

As soon as you are out of sight, Sirius sighs, dropping hushed back against the bookcase you were just leaning on and unzips his pants, pulling your underwear that he hadn’t lost from out of his pocket and holding it up to his face. With his cock free, he has no shame as he touches himself vigorously and, in a matter of seconds, cums all over the floor.

Remus frowns, looking down at the thick globs decorating the floor, “Really, Padfoot? You couldn’t wait until we were back to the dormitory?”

“I’ve never had blue balls like that in my life. It was fucking hurting Moony, give me a break”.

Remus shifts his own cock in the restraint of his trousers as James says over his shoulder, “She's heading straight towards Filch. Shouldn’t we go and stop her?”

Rems peers over his friend's shoulder, looking at the open Marauders map and watches as your name floats towards Filch. The tallest Marauder shrugs, “No, it’ll teach her a lesson about being out of bed after hours”. They all share a dark grin and begin to gather their stuff before walking out of the library.

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